Oh, Catastrophe

The phone’s ring was like a screaming in the distance. Loud in reality but muffled within the temporary safety of Ang’s mind. Within it, he heard silence... Such an empty sound that brimmed his eyes with tears; joyful tears that would spill down his pale cheeks from his tired eyes as he stared at the ceiling. Somewhere his cell phone buzzed, somewhere the television was still on, somewhere his voice mail was going off.

“Angelo! It’s Chris! Pick up the phone! You have to see this! Come on man, I know you’re home. Ang!”
He reached idly for the phone sitting on it’s receiver, “What?”
“Oh good, you answered your house phone for once.”
“I don’t even know why I have one at this point.”
“Business calls I suppose but anyway! Turn on the news like NOW!”
He’d sigh but did as he was told.

On screen was a report about a girl found dead in her apartment. Ang twitched his nose, “What’s so interesting about this? People die everyday.”
“Don’t you think it’s crazy?!” Chris sounded disappointed that Angelo didn’t have the reaction he wanted.
“Why would it be?”
“She was the waitress that served us yesterday!”
Angelo swallowed hard, muscles tensing, “Right... Dinner.”

Specks of memories flashed behind his eyes. Escapades in the bathroom where he found himself in an internal battle over control of his own actions and thoughts. One slip of the tongue and an offering of whiskey.

“-Right?”
“Huh?” Ang pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I said, crazy right? She was fine when she took you to the bathroom?” Chris’ voice was knowing, jabbing fingers at his adultry.
He cleared his throat, “Uh yeah man. She was fine. Nothing weird... She was even laughing with her friends right after.” The couch was becoming extremely uncomfortable... and he had a hard time concentrating on Chris’s voice.
“Man, they’re saying it might’ve been a suicide by the looks of it. No one knows... It’d be pretty fucked up if it was though. She seemed so happy I would’ve never guessed.”
“Yeah.. That’s typically the jist of it.”
“You alright man? You sound... I don’t know, gone.”
“Yeah, I actually have to call you back.”
“Oh? Alright I guess I’ll-”

Ang hung up the phone and held his head in his hands, his temples were throbbing to the point his eyes ached. The TV sounded louder than it actually was and his phone started ringing again
and someone was knocking on his door
and his cell phone buzzed
and someone began to laugh
and then it was dark.

~~

“You’ve missed two appointments again.” Prescott set his clipboard to the side, interlinking his fingers and setting them on his crossed legs, “Why?”
Instead of answering the question, his eyes drifted to the large grandfather clock on the wall. He always wondered why, out of all the clocks you could possibly get, the psychiatrist chose this one. It seemed so old and... noisy.
“Mr. Parente? Angelo?”
“Hm?”
“Kelly called me the other day...” He paused watching Angelo’s body language suddenly change drastically, “Said you were... having some troubles. I wanted to ask you a few questions about them. Is that ok with you?”
He blinked, his heart rate increasing at the sound of Kelly’s name... How long has it been since he last seen her? He couldn’t even remember... The fact that his memories were being corrupted by.. by this, this inner being: frustrated him, scared him, made him want to vomit.

“Ok...”
“Good.. good.” He picked up the clipboard again, “I want to start off with what you and Kelly were doing that day... Can you tell me?”
“I...” He paused, “I don’t know.”
Scribbling...
“Do you remember when she got there?”
“No.”
“What do you remember? About her first arriving?”
Ang shifted uncomfortably, “Uhm.. I-I think... I was in the bathroom.”
“Doing?”
He glared at the doctor momentarily, “I was feeling sick again-”
“You injected?”
“I don’t know!” Angelo snapped, his voice filling with venom.
Prescott adjusted his glasses, “I’m sorry Angelo, I’m only concerned for your well being.”
“Bullshit.” He hissed lowly.
Prescott went on, pretending the comment never left Angelo’s mouth, “So you were in the bathroom...”
Angelo pinched the bridge of his nose, “I was in the bathroom and she woke me up. I wasn’t feeling... ok. I wanted to vomit.”
The doctor waited for a moment to avoid interrupting, “You were upset? Rambling and talking down to yourself?"
Ang shrugged, "I said I wasn't feeling ok."
More scribbling, "Kelly says you spaced out a lot, yes?”
“Yes...”
“Was... the voice.. Speaking to you?”
“...Yes.”
“Can you tell me what it was saying?”
He fiddled with his fingers, “It was talking about Kelly...”
“What did it say?”
“Talking about... How she...” He stumbled over his words, “How she smelled so... sweet.”

Indeed she did.

Ang flinched.

“And...?” Prescott’s pen scratched annoyingly, his old eyes occasionally glancing questioningly.
“I didn’t like it.” Ang’s fists clenched in his lap.

Poor baby.

His muscles flexed.

“Angelo?”
“What?!” He hissed.
The doctor was taken aback.. Recoiling for a moment from the look in his eyes before pushing forward, “Kelly said you went still.. Completely- I would say, Frozen. She took you to bed, do you remember this?”
He shook his head, looking down at his lap; “I... could feel myself moving and I could feel.. the bed. She took off my clothes but...”
“But?”
“I... think I started to dream- No! It made me dream.”
“What made you dream Angelo?”
“I... I saw it, I saw him.”
“Does your voice have a face now? What did he look like?”

Tell him Angelo... Tell him what you saw... Tell him about yourself, your TRUE self. All your darkest desires.. The girl. Oh I hope you like cells! Imagine all the fun things we can do in there! Oh... But Kelly. Our precious Kelly.

“Don’t call her that.”
“Excuse me?” Prescott’s brow arched.

Careful Ang. Don’t wanna lose out temper in front of the old man here. Such a fragile life in front of you... Maybe it’s time he stopped budding in? Maybe he's just the man I wanted to see...

Angelo can see glass crashing... the office in shambles and Prescott-

“Is he talking to you now?”
He looked up, half surprised that the doctor was still there, then nodded.
“Can you see him? What is he saying to you.”
“N-no... I can’t see him... Not right now. He’s... not showing himself to me.”
“What did he look like before? When he first showed himself to you.”

Say it.

“He looked... he looked like me. But... not me. It was me.. but paler. Grey and still... He put on the make up I wore on stage when I was in a band.”
“The one you were in with your friend Chris, correct?” He flipped through his charts, “Motionless in White?”

The name sent shivers down his spine and graphic images of Chris’ near demise.
He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered, “Oh Chris...”

Prescott snapped his fingers, “Angelo.. I need you to focus now. What is the voice saying to you?”

Ring around the rosie...

“He’s singing...” Angelo swallowed, quivering.

A pocket full of posies...

“What is he singing?”

Ashes...

“A children’s song... A nursery rhyme.”

Ashes...

“Which song?”

We all fall..

“Angelo?”

Down.

“He wants to come out.”