I hate the taste of blood.

So, why am I continuing to lick my lips? The stream of crimson, copper flavored liquid pooling up and dripping down the sides of my lips, all the way down to my throat. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, as Winston steps away from the wall and walks closer to me. On his face, a warm, almost inviting smile. Instinctively, I tense up but something, something unbeknownst to me loosens every muscle in my body simultaneously and hug him. To anyone who would just so happen to check up on me, I'd look like a complete nutjob, hugging absolutely nothing but as time marches on, I let myself become more and more acquainted with the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Winston's a real person and I'm not nearly as crazy as I once thought.

Then again, I could also be asleep right now and this whole thing could be just some excruciatingly long nightmare that I can wake up from any second.

No?

Okay.

Somehow, in the span of time it took for me to have that nice little thought tangent, Winston disappeared. Now I literally am hugging air, stark raving naked. Oh, the looks I'd be getting if someone was watching. My fingers begin to twitch as I hear the beeping tones replay over and over in my head. At varying volume lengths, they drill through my ears and bury themselves deeply in my subconscious, not stopping until all I can see are ever shifting patterns of red and blue. No amount of rubbing my eyes or forcing them closed for long periods of time (which, in my impatient, malady ravaged brain equated to a few seconds) would fix this. Even the darkness I should be seeing is the same.

The only difference was with eyes open, the objects in my vision changed colors.

WIth eyes shut, all I can see are the colors.

What I wouldn't give for a little bit of black right about now...

My arms pull away from my face, through no intervention of my own. No, it's like they developed minds of their own and decided to no longer aid me in attempting to clear this vision hindrance. Falling back to my sides, my arms go stiff as a board and my elbows miraculously begin acting like rusted shut door hinges to every attempt I make at bending them. I start to walk again without my own intervention, but soon enough I find some kind of desire to walk towards the door. Not knowing what's on the other side, I pull the door open and fling myself into the hall.

Smack! Goes my body against the wall.

I stumble backwards, falling on my ass and knocked a few more shades of silly.

Right in time for a nice couple stepping out of their room to see me.

Taken aback, and rightfully so, the pair share a simultaneous gasp before their almost comically overplayed faces go through a series of expressions: fright, remorse, dread, curious, humored, and once their eyes met mine, intimidated. I don't know why for. The man of the couple, dressed in some getup that proved he was from an affluent background, yet wanted to reject his family's wealth and was willing to spend the big bucks for the premium in pre-ripped clothing, drops down his knees. I guess to be on my level, as he inches closer to me and in his best concerned caretaker voice, asks me point blank:

"Are you okay?"

You're safe, Jessie. These two are here to help you.

I pull my eyes away from the two for just a brief second, shooting my glance backward to Winston standing in the doorframe, smiling a big, dopey smile. Looks like he finally got me out of that room.

"N-no," I say, practically in a pain induced groan as the clawing at my own lips has finally caught up to me. Though, it's hard to focus on the pain when the two ventriloquist puppets given life decide to continue their Vaudevillian act and cringe at every syllable uttered from my cracked, mucus laden throat. It's almost funny. So almost funny in fact, that I forgot to laugh and instead glare at the two.

"Of course she isn't Ted," the man's girlfriend cuts in, slapping him on the arm. Her non shocked face is one of spiteful contempt, not necessarily aimed at him nor me. At the world maybe? Look at me, trying to analyze someone's attitude through one facial expression. Good to know I haven't lost all my endearing quirks, even in the face of whatever's going on this time. "Can you tell me your name?"

Frankly, I don't think she actually cares.

"J-Jessie," I barely choke out before leaning over to one side and almost hacking up a lung.

"Can we help you?"

"C-can you take me to the hospital?"

Winston's words coming right out of my mouth, and I'm the only one who could tell. The couple exchange glances for a moment, no longer playing their game of who can out overact the other.

After a few moments of silence, wherein the pattern of colors changed no fewer than thirteen times, the woman walks closer to me and puts my arm around her neck. Hoisting me up, she keeps her head pointed away from me for some reason. The man, Ted, grabs my other arm and does the same. I should probably tell them I'm fine to walk, but then again this is pretty nice, and I don't know when next I'll lose control of my body.

Only a few more steps through the conveniently located back exit, and I'm in the sun for the first time in I don't know how long. It burns my freakishly pale skin and looks blue to me, but it's something at least. Ted opens the back door on the driver's side and lowers me in, so I'm laying on the back seat of the car.

I want to get out.

But my legs won't work.

The pair walk over to the front of the car; the woman getting in the front seat and Ted behind the wheel. He slides the key into the ignition and turns it, and the engine comes to life.

Good Jessie.

I almost didn't think you had it in you.

Now, just like last time-

My vision's back to normal.

No more red, or blue clouding everything I see.

I need you to listen.


I'll, I'll...

I'll listen when I wake up.