Dark Chronicles of a Creative Mind (chapter 11)

Darkness. Surrounded by complete utter darkness. Not the kind of darkness where you can make out little dots. Not the kind of darkness where if you strain your sight hard enough, you see a visible white light. It’s the kind of darkness that plays havoc with your senses.

Reaching out in all directions, but there’s nothing to latch onto type darkness. Nothing but the sound of my heartbeat can be heard. And in between beats of my heart, a minor buzzing sound that comes and goes. As the buzzing gets louder, another sound comes-that sound you hear when a needle first touches a record.

Darkness everywhere. The kind where you can’t tell up from down. The kind of darkness where you can’t tell if you’re floating or swimming. The kind of unsettling darkness that makes you wonder are you falling in slow motion or suspended in air.

The low hum, and record scratching continue over lapping one another. Then it stops, and once again my heart beat is alone. The rhythm of my heart is fast and out of control-I tried to scream, but nothing comes out. I hear a low hum that begins to get louder. It’s like when you plug a guitar up to an amp, and that annoying feedback occurs. And once again the minor buzzing returns and mixes in with the low hum and record scratching.

Still spinning out of control in whatever direction I’m going. The darkness and gravity have its way with me. Voices. I hear one, sounds more like the teacher from Charlie Brown.

“Wah..Wahh Wah”

Nothing that I can make into words.

“Waaa –ke…….wwwwwwwaaaaaak”

More sounds that I can’t figure out or understand. It sounds like an alien language, or possibly like some songs when you play them backwards. Or even sounds like this mumble rap bullshit that seems to fly as music these days.

Suddenly my sense all our awakened.

“Hey there sunshine-thought you died on us.”

I scream bloody hell, as cold water sprays relentlessly on me. Blocking it with my hands the best I can while trying to catch my breath. With one eye open I see Rin standing nearby with a grin on his face mocking me.

Wiping my eyes I realized I’m in a bathtub. The shower is on full stream, ice-cold water assaulting me relentlessly.

“FUCK..FUCK…CUT THAT COLD SHIT OFF”, I scream as he laughs even more.

Stumbling out the tub, I lose my balance and trip out the bathroom out into the open-where more company awaited me.

Mr Styles stood there with L.J. and Zoe talking among themselves, until I appeared wet and naked.

“Well this definitely kills my idea of ordering sausage links for breakfast”, LJ says as he grins.

As I attempt to cover my privates, I feel the pain of a towel connect with my butt.

Rin walks past me tossing a towel at me.

“Go get dressed damn animal, out here showing off your spear of the wild. No one wants to see that shit kid.”

Twenty minutes later we’re all sitting at the dining table eating breakfast. Waiters serve us a variety of breakfast foods. Scrambled eggs, French toast, pancakes, if you could think of it-they made it to order right there.

“Gave us quite a scare. We left you on this floor for two straight days, and all you did was drink and pass out”, LJ says while toasting his glass of apple juice.

“Two days have passed?”, I ask rubbing my temple.

“Oh you had quite the party down here by yourself kid. Though hard as you hit the booze I doubt you’ll remember it”, Rin says while eating a steak.

“I apologize, I usually don’t drink that much.”

“No need to apologize. I don’t recall ever seeing something so funny as someone using their dick as an air guitar to the guitar solo to ‘Smells like Teen Spirit’. He laughs and continues, “I’ll never forget it kid, thank you for showing us your hidden talent. You are officially my naked guitar hero. I’m gonna post that shit on YouTube.”

They all laugh while I lay my head on the table from embarrassment. Taking a deep breath I sit up and pour myself a cup of grape juice. Mr Styles and I gazes meet, he rubs his chin and smirks at me while I drink.

“So I have this idea, that I want to do a book”, Alonozo says as he looks at me.

I nod while sipping my freshly squeezed orange juice.

He continues, “I want it to be a biography. I don’t want to expose myself completely but give the people a better idea of who and what I am.”

Looking around the table, all eyes are on me. My gaze rests on Zoe, as she sits by her king.

“Well what about Zoe, she’s already a published established writer-she’s far more experienced than I am for this project. Besides, I’m not even a writer”, I say stuffing my mouth with pancakes.

Mr. Styles laughs as he adjusts his cufflinks.

“See that’s the thing, I would ask Zoe-but I’m afraid of the backlash it would cause.”

“What do you mean backlash?

“Well it might be seen as some sort of favoritism or tunnel vision. How would that look, my wife writing my biography? Someone could say she buttered the book up to make me look like something I’m truly not. Now that wouldn’t be good for business. Wouldn’t be good for either of us. So that’s at least one of the reasons I sought you out Mr. Washington.”

“But like I told you, I’m not a writer. You really honestly got me confused with someone else”, I say stuffing my face with a steak omelet.

Mr. Styles laughs, while sipping his fresh squeezed orange juice and winks at me. Rin sits next to me with an open laptop with a facebook profile up. He smiles as he roughly slaps me on the back.

“So you’re telling me that not you kid”

Looking at the profile, I see the picture. The owner of the page and myself have a strong resemblance. It’s damn near uncanny the fact we could pass for twins.

Rin says, “You can stop the bullshit kid-we know this is you. If you’re hiding from someone we can protect you. Trust me.” His grip tightens on my shoulder, giving me a rather rough massage and he continues. “……because Lord knows, if this really isn’t you-and you’re playing a game. There is no scenario in which you make it out of this building alive.”

For a moment my gaze travels from the facebook page to my captors. I do the math of pros and cons to myself and the percentage of a successful escape. Do I run with this lie and live, or continue trying to tell the truth and risk dying? I’m trapped on the 80th floor of the Sears Tower-which no visible means of an exit. Surrounded by four strangers, and at least a 45 minute drive from my home in Gary, Indiana. What would you?

As the waiter refills my glass with grape juice, I look at the four faces all around me. Rin sits next to me eating away, with a killer look on his face. LJ carefully watches me with an emotionless faces as he wipes his mouth and pushes his plate away. Zoe sips her mimosa, our eyes meet before she turns away. She’s sat here this entire time and hasn’t so much as spoken a word.

And lastly Mr. Alonzo Xavier Styles, the head man in charge. He sits there watching me intensely, his thumb playfully rolling the ring housed on his middle finger. His head tilts and leans forward awaiting my answer as I sip my juice. Everything has slowed down. I can literally hear the ticks from the expensive designer watch Mr. Styles is wearing.

“Sooooo, what kind of book are we talking Mr Styles? Children’s book, young adult or some Rated R type shit with lots of sex and boobs. Or maybe a cook book, you have the charisma to push a cook book. Gordon Ramsey couldn’t touch you. Let’s do this. I’m excited to be a part of this plan. I’m down like a buried corpse with depression. Let’s do this shit people”, I say in the most upbeat voice I could muster, while toasting everyone.

But in reality I’m about ready to piss my pants like a toddler. And judging by the look Zoe is giving me, I think she senses it as well.

Oh don’t judge me you pricks. The hell would you do?

To Be Continued!!!!!!

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