Folie a Deux

The bright colours of bliss and extreme wonder were nothing like he had ever seen before. They were vibrant and throbbing, alluring as if one touch would be like touching the rainbow itself. They were speaking to him in a dazzling language, seeping into his mind, his heart, his soul. It had trapped him in a dazed confusion, excitement and joy so strong it was critical.

What would it feel like? He wanted to know. Anyone would. Though the curious mind of a five year old should never venture to such extremes and wonder to the dangers that tempted him.

His mother had firmly told him never to trust things that gave him a weird and strange feeling, but if that feeling was good was it acceptable? Surely no amazement on TV could be harmful.

The bowl of ice cream next to him was slowly melting and left behind as he crawled towards the TV set, eyes glowing in monstrosity. Even the fact that something gooey and green like thick mucus was seeping through the television and across the room, did not put him off. He could not be put off.

Patrick was an adventurer and if the colours were calling him, he was not going to ignore. The sounds of a circus and funny figures flowed from the speakers and into the lounge. He lifted up the bridge of his too big hat and spied the colourful merry-go-round on the screen. Oh how much he wanted to be on it.

His pink lips curved into a giant smile, it was the most extraordinary circus he’d ever witnessed. That was enough to drag him closer. Children’s laughs, funny cartooned people, adults dressed in weird outfits of many colours.

He crawled carelessly through the green goo, his skin slipping and sticking to it. He put out his hand to the TV screen in curiosity. His eyes were glassed over, even as a large green hand of goo emerged from the TV and wrapped around the little boy.

The trace he was captured in at once broke as the slimy hand squished against him, cold and suffocating, pulling him in. One short scream was all he had time for before the lounge disappeared and he was flying through darkness before stumbling and tripping into a somewhere that was not his home in Glenview. It was a world of colours, wonder and amazement. A circusy world of a Wonderland that surely Alice would even been jealous of.

The little boy straightened out his lopsided Bingo hat and ran messily across the green grass that tickled his ankles. A city of colour loomed ahead, offering the only sign of civilization. But only part of this world was real. The rest of the world was cartoon and 2D, frightening him just a little. The merry-go-round music was still ringing in the air as it slowly turned with not one real person was to be seen on it. Moving cartoon people were seated on the horses, smiling so creepily and widely with sneers like open wounds, it caused chills to go to his bones and a sudden homesick feeling to spread.

A river of goo ran through the land like toxic waste brought from the hills, warning not to go near. Panic set in as he began to run faster away from the scene, little short legs struggling to gain distance and speed. His breath was labored and dry. This was a nightmare, there was evil to the colour.

He yelped as he tripped over and crashed into a bush of tangled vines that appeared cartoon, but felt more than real. They wrapped around his limbs and waist tightly, cutting into his flesh with each tighten. He began to scream and thrash, tears pouring down his flushed face.

“MOM, DAD, HELP PLEASE” came his desperate cries, squirming and pushing.

He finally freed himself and ran, trying to force back hysterical sobbing hiccups and screams. All that registered to him was that bad plant had tried to hurt him. The cuts on his skin glowed ugly red on his pale flesh. His brown pants were grass stained and baby blue tee ripped.

He rubbed his irritated eyes in balled fists and slowed down as he heard loud crying, not that of his sobs. He took a calming breath and listened. Another little kid was crying hysterically. He wasn’t alone.

He slipped around behind some real life shrubs to see a little boy, huddled up against a tall tree. Six black cartoon birds were circling his head, twitting in horrible sounding laughs.

“GO.AWAY.BAD BIRDS” he heard the little boy scream before he looked up and saw him.

The boy’s cheeks were raw from crying as his brown eyes gleamed with fresh tears. Relief replaced the terror in his expression and he leapt up, running towards Patrick who bolted in fright.

The colours flashed past as he ran, needing some place to hide. The little boy eventually grabbed Patrick’s sleeve, causing them to tumble head over heels down a sloping terrain.

“GET THEM AWAY” the terrified boy screamed, shaking his golden hair as if the birds were in it and trying to hide between the ground and Patrick.

Patrick looked horrified at the scary black birds, beaks and claws sharp like knifes, before he began swatting at them with his hat. The birds were squawking like vultures, hungry to tear them to pieces. One of the birds was sent flying as the hat came in contact with it. It squealed horribly like a witch, causing the rest of the birds to fly off in a rush.

The panting boy looked around alertly before lunging at Patrick with a huge hug and cried harder “T-thank y-you”.

A stranger boy he’d only just saved from birds was hugging him, making Patrick feel more uncomfortable and homesick. Yet he didn’t force the hysterical boy away. He wasn’t alone after all. The loneliness disappeared.

“I want mu-mum” the boy sobbed, looking up at his rescuer.

“Same”.

“I want my teddy to. Where are we?”.

Both their eyes looked briefly around. All to be seen was trees and shrubs yet it was far from being a garden or forest.

“I dunno” Patrick said voice a shy whisper “I remember colours and then a big green hand pulled me into my TV. It was yucky” he shivered at the disgusted thought.

“Same” the boy said rubbing his eyes “W-what’s your name?”.

“Patrick, you?”

“Pete”.

“Lets find our home” Patrick said trying to figure out their new direction.

Pete nodded quickly and stood up with his new companion and friend maybe. The only hope of them finding there way home was to go into the crazy city beyond. Both young boys followed the river of goo which seemed to run through the city. If anything this was so far quite a deserted place. Nothing much was said as Patrick began to hum songs, nervous of what could be laying in the river. Pete boredly kicked stones and clumps of dirt in their path. The black birds however hadn’t given up and continued to follow both boys, keeping a safe distance away.

“The birds make me feel sad” Pete mumbled not daring to look back at them.

Their cold eyes looked at Patrick with curiosity, but were more focused and interested on Pete.

He looked away feeling uneasy and jittery. Shadows and movement bordered their path. They hesitated as they spotted flashing lights amongst the trees they were near. Patrick nervously stood behind Pete who was entranced with the lights.

“Run” Pete whispered in a dead tone.

Both boys spun around in a chaotic stumble and sprinted as figures burst through the trees, straight towards them. They had no idea where they were running so they kept close to the river.

Patrick dared a look back at their followers, breath gasping and lacking. Normal people were chasing them like celebrities. They wore hats and tidy clothes with jackets, looking like journalists, but the flashing cameras gave them the look of paparazzi.

The two boys were sent in different directions, feeling more exposed and desperate then before, trying to come together through the crazy bodies of people. Terror struck Patrick like never before as he heard a loud scream from Pete as he saw the poor boy twist his ankle and lose his balance on the uneven grass, tumbling helplessly, straight into the river of goo with a splash.

Patrick froze as the scene he stared at was of Pete crying and thrashing in the horrible green substance, clutching to his skin like leeches. The paparazzi people ran off in a flash of lights, ignoring the drowning boy’s agonizing pleads that pierced heart deep.

Patrick ran to where the distressed boy was thrashing and gargling. Tears were starting to form in his eyes as he stretched out his hand to Pete. All he got was slimy green fingers brushed against his, leaving goo streaks down his fingers.

“Grab my hand” Patrick cried not wanting to see the boy go under.

The desperate look of life flashed in Pete’s face as he tried to move closer, fresh tears making the green goo run down his cheeks like a runny nose. The river was thick and would not allow it.

“I cant” he gagged as he swallowed a mouthful of goo and slipped from the surface.

Patrick started to tremble “PETE” he cried, leaning closer “No, NO, PETE, come back, please” the tears blurred his vision of the river “PETE PLEASE”.

But no little boy resurfaced, the river so still as if nobody had perished underneath it. He’d just watched someone die in front of him and now he was alone.

The little boy withdrew into himself, letting go to all the hysterical tears and screams. His head hurt so much within his chest. He didn’t want to be alone in this unknown world. He wanted his mum and dad, his bed and Pete.

He felt coldness seep within him as if part of him was drifting away. He couldn’t feel anything for it.

The evil black birds were perched on a brunch nearby, watching the river intently. It made him feel more upset.

A large shadow was cast over little Patrick and he looked up, cheeks raw, eyes swollen and lip bit. A helpless lost boy, wanting to be home. He began to tremble which turned into violent shaking, his stomach cramping with sick. Looming over him was a big man wearing grey. Part cartoon, part human as if something had gone wrong. His smile was way too wide for his face, eyes too large, teeth to shape. A threatening sneer.

“Well, what do we have here?” his voice menacing and cold.

The boy kept silent. Hysteria tore at his insides. He’d never felt so scared and when he wet his pants that split second he wasn’t much surprised. There was evil laughing and he wanted to go home.

The man lifted Patrick up by the collar who gave a weird gag and whimpered into black eyes of ash.

“Let’s hope you cant swim ugly child” he jeered as he threw Patrick into the air, right over the river.

Patrick screamed as he flew through the air.

I can’t swim.

He quickly descended towards the river and screeched as he hit it with a winded gasp. A gungy goo clung to him like leeches, making him heavy, movement slow and slooshy. Patrick cried and thrashed, heart racing so much it throbbed in his ears. His mind flashed to his family and even to Pete and his life as green goo slipped sourly past his lips, thick and slimy with a revolting plastic taste, choking him and destroying his life. It clogged up his nose, making his head light headed as he got dragged deeper under. The feeling as if hands were pulling him under. Still hysterical he felt something slow slip away in his head, sanity maybe as did to the view of the world he’d been kidnapped to.