Show Them All You're Not the Ordinary Type

Brendon’s Pov

I was in a room. Well perhaps ‘big box’ was a more accurate description. There were no doors or windows and the walls, floor and ceiling were white. Unremarkable, unimaginative and dull in every way. I didn’t know where I was - it was definitely somewhere I had never been, as I am sure that I would remember being trapped in a big white box. Then again, I’ve learnt the hard way that memory isn’t too trustworthy. No. No time for that. I mustn’t get bitter over something that happened years ago. First I have to concentrate on getting out of this box.

I spun in a slow circle hoping naively that I may have missed an exit sign or a door when I first appraised the room. Sadly not. Thing that gets me most about being in here is the silence. I like noise; I don’t really mind what the noise is: TV, voices, music, building site, traffic, anything to block out the silence. Silence equates to being alone. Truly truly alone. It’s what I love most about the city; the endless noise and the busyness that goes with it: the rush of traffic and the sounds of people walking and talking and laughing and fighting. Sometimes it was better than music. Only sometimes though.

How I wished I had my ipod with me. Or a phone. Although there would probably be no signal so perhaps an ipod was the better choice. I sighed and resisted the urge to bang my head against the wall in frustration. It wouldn’t help. Probably.

My arm hurts. Badly. It feels like it’s on fire. Shouldn’t it have healed by now? What did the hunters do to me?

I woke up for no tangible reason, my arm still on fire. It was quite unexpected to wake as, bizarre as it was, the dream had felt like reality. I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling trying to regain my bearings. A box? I haven’t dreamt in roughly a hundred years and my first dream was about a white box? Was I really so unimaginative that that was all my subconscious could come up with?

I sat up slowly trying to adjust to a wakeful state. It was mid-afternoon, I knew that instinctively. Why was I awake so early? I hated being awake in the daytime; it was almost disconcerting. The day was so stark, so bright. It was so much harder to keep secrets in the light, harder to hide; everything you are and have been and might be, on show in the light for everyone to see and judge. At least the mansion was in permanent darkness; the light never more than dim. In the dark you could lie and pretend. And it was almost expected of you, the darkness was corrupt and evil and so we, who dwell only in shadows, must also be evil.

It suddenly occurred to me that I couldn’t hear anything. Of course the rest of the dandies (the remaining five higher dandies and William) would be asleep now and so perhaps silence should be expected. But I couldn’t hear a thing. Not a single thing. Not the humming crackly sound my TV makes when I leave it on standby. Not the rain or the wind causing some of the old timber to creak (I liked these sounds especially - they made it seem as though the house was alive). Nothing.

I looked around wildly searching, irrationally, for a clue as to the loss of one of my senses. I can’t say I was too surprised when I found none. What was wrong with me? First my arm and now this. Was I dying? Is this what happened when vampires died? Why had I never bothered to find out how we could be killed (other than the obvious stake through the heart, burning routine)? Why had it never seemed important?

Mike burst into the room and I jumped. With no sounds to mark his presence I had been completely unaware that he was outside my door until he suddenly appeared in my vision. He started talking - I could tell from his mouth moving - but I couldn’t hear a thing and I had no idea what he might be talking about. His expression slowly turned to frustrated and his talking got more agitated - I could tell this from his expression and his body language - but Mike's irritation didn't seem important as I still couldn’t hear.

I tried desperately to quell the panic that was starting to bubble up inside me. I needed to say calm and focused so I could try to figure out what had happened to me. I needed help badly and although Mike wouldn’t have been my first choice in my hour of need (actually he would have been my last) he was the only person here, so he would have to do. His mouth was still moving but I had no way of gauging how important what he was saying was, and my loss of hearing would be far more important anyway.

“Mike I can’t hear anything.” I said desperately. He gave me a kind of ‘bitch please’ look and I didn’t need to hear him to know that he wanted to know if I thought he was a gullible idiot.

“I mean it!” I practically wailed, I couldn‘t hear myself but I am fairly sure I sounded like a small child. His expression turned exasperated. I concentrated on his mouth desperately trying to lip read his answer. Stop…screwing…around… Brendon.

I don’t know why I didn’t expect that. I began to protest, to try and explain the severity of the situation.

“I’m-” and suddenly it all came back, the TV, the creaking of the house, the rain. I could hear hurried footsteps rushing down the corridors and distant voices. It all came back at once and the sudden noise was akin in loudness to an explosion, but I didn’t care. I was too busy rejoicing in the return of my hearing. How I had missed all these little signs of life. I looked at Mike who was looking at me with an expression which couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be derisive or condescending.

“You know what, forget it. Don’t listen to me and don’t show up, I don’t care. But William will.” and he left slamming the door behind him. I fell back onto the pillow in a joyous daze. At that moment even Mike’s aggressive tone was beautiful. The door slamming was like a symphony, just hearing him storm down the corridor was like - wait what was that about showing up?

“Mike?” I asked not bothering to raise my voice - I knew he would hear me. “What am I supposed to be showing up to?”

“Shouldn’t have been screwing around and listened to me instead” was his only response. Damn.