XIV
"A man in black and the other in white. What are you two supposed to even mean?" He asked himself with the softest of whispers so that he could only hear himself around his perimeter, and he thought of thinking about the very things of him and Jack and how they would be able to see once more again, as someone of question whose end was the only of paramount importance and the curiosity of his had driven him farther than he thought he could, or he would be, and he shrugged his shoulders and went on.
XV
And inside the bathroom he went with his left sole getting the greatest of contact with the wooden floor and his right never had the chance to be able to land a smack, and seemed his right heel had changed places with his wounded sole for the time being. He had a towel with his hand and an aid kit on the other, of which he hid under his clothes so that his mother would not utter anything about his causes, and she did not see him with the kit held tight with his left hand hidden underneath the very fabric of his clothing.
He placed the towel unto its designated rack and the kit right beside the water barrel which was about a sixth of his height, and he went himself naked. His face was not happy while he was taking his undergarment off, not because of the wound but because how he got the very cut on his sole, and the dirt which had covered his body in his dream had been brought into the apparent world, and the craziest of all, the writing of which was attached unto the wall of his room in his dream had also become a reality of his own, of which shocked him right beneath in his very core.
"It was never meant to be broken, Aleck. It was never at the point of your cause."
The voice ran inside his inside in circles as he grabbed a dipper with his hand and poured some water above his head, and sooner his head had gone wet, and eventually his crotch down to his very feet. He then opened the shower and positioned himself under the well-pouring rain shower and while the palms of his hands were against the bathroom tile-adorned walls, and he kept on thinking. "What's with broken? Never have I ever broke one in my entire life any of anything the bunny-masked man could had thought of," he whispered right beneath his eyes while drops of water had passed his very lips and some were blasted off from his mouth, and kept on thinking how, out of all worlds and dreams he had been and got trouble into, what he had experienced and gotten through in his very dark and nightmare-like dreams appeared like a happenstance by the moment he got himself very awoke and sober.
He twisted the valve of the shower and the rain stopped pouring down his very hair which tangled itself from his scalp, and he grabbed the kit with one his hands. He sat on the chair beside the water barrel with his butt kissing the seat, and he placed his right leg above his left knee spontaneously and he opened the kit.
He then reached for hydrogen peroxide, some cotton balls and gauze and tape, and he proceeded to clean his inch and a half-long wound. He twisted the cap the hydrogen peroxide bottle and picked a cotton ball on its bunch and he poured some into the cotton ball, and wiped it into his wound. He grunted like a kid and his eyes were half-open. He was hurt not because of what he was wiping it with but because of how he looked at it like a wound very infected by a pathogen which thrived in his dreams, which then became his ultimate reality since. He kept on wiping, and some of the dirt inside the wound had reached the cotton ball he was pinching with his two wet fingers, which turned its color into a light brown colored, like a half of his blanket's smudge.
Upon cleaning, he heard some voices which was very similar to the cavity of his ears. He knew the voice was not Jack's or the bunny, but it was the voice of a child which he had known to be dancing and had appreciated his very musical enthusiasm and made him his daily, which was irrelevant that he presumed, dose of happiness amidst his very whereabouts.
"Hey." A voice came from the inside the water barrel, and he jumped out of scare, letting go of the cotton balls which was pinched tight by his fingers and his wound had touched the floor of the bathroom, made him grunt and cheeks clenched once more. He knew the water barrel was more than halfway full of liquid and there no, by any means, chance of someone getting himself hidden without Micael noticing him, but a voice came from the very inside. It echoed around the cylindrical walls of the barrel, sounded like it was coming from a distant cave and eventually bouncing back into the cavities of his ears, and it was familiar. A voice of some sort of which he had heard a lot of times while dreaming and one who could switch himself from whatever he wanted to be. It sounded like the child with the torn shirt and a dingy jumper which was hiding. His face was surprised. The shower even more, and the voice talked once more which echoed the four walls of where he was currently bathing himself and his delicate wounds into.
"I miss you. Where have you been? You have not come for ages," the voice sounded conversationally.
"Who are you?" Micael replied with his voice reaching the top of his throat, he had his answers right before he asked one rhetorical question of his. "Don't you remember me? I am a dancer, a crow once, a tree twice and an old man a lot of times," the voice uttered with a whisper and a sigh between every line he thought Micael would remember, and Micael did, followed by the vast silence that bounced around the bathroom of which the voice of him were in.
The silence became deafening that the water dripping down the drain had sounded a dozen times louder than the voice of Micael's. The drain seemed like it was bigger, like a sewer with a height thrice his and a span thrice of his, too. It felt creepy and that the silence was no good, but he knew that there was something much creepier than the decibel of the water drain getting higher than the last, and so he continued. His left foot stepped afront of him, and his right heel followed, and the other, and other. It took him a mere 6 steps in order for him to have the greatest sight of the water barrel, as it was as near as high as his falling about his armpit and eventually, his eyes had reached the edge of the water barrel. And then the side, and eventually the base. He was shocked that the water had been drained without him even noticing, as if the water barrel had been cut out from the bottom and the water inside it had been drained out intentionally. But there was something more than the empty water barrel which shook his head oscillating about his very thoughts, and it was a white cast shadow of a child which was sitting like a sticky ball at the bottom of the barrel.
...