Scintilla
The Dollhouse: Clandestine
scin·til·la
[sin-til-uh]
noun
a minute particle; spark; trace: not a scintilla of remorse.
Do you even know what’s waiting for you? I mean, do you even realize?
I don’t think Kris does. If he did, he would have left already. Maybe it’s for the better, him being oblivious.
Because I know Kris and if he knew what was going on already, things would’ve turned out differently for everyone.
Let them be blind. Let them be deaf.
I don’t want him to see the horror and hear those screams yet.
I could literally hear my heart beating in my chest. It was as loud as thunder. The way we handled running for our lives was quite out of this world, to be honest. Every action we took could not be registered by our minds first. Our bodies decided to handle everything themselves.
Before the person that was trying to reach the third floor could spot us, we had fled into a random chamber. While quickly looking around and realizing that there was a girl lying in her bed, we ran for the closet, got in and closed the doors as fast as we could.
Tao was breathing heavily and realized just as well as I did that this tiny room wasn’t able to hide both of us if we were to stand like this. He grabbed my arm and stood closer to me, pressing his head against my shoulder, hearing the door opening.
“Chaerin.” Recognizing that voice wasn’t such a hard thing to do for I had never in my life heard someone producing such arrogant sounds like Zico’s. He had reached the level of a professional.
Chaerin. We hadn’t had time to look at the owner of this room before, but it looked as if we were at the wrong place, clearly at the wrong time. This was the girl that had caught my interest before. Tao knew. He looked up and held his breath.
“I know you’re awake. I’ve been hearing things. Have you seen anyone?” Zico walked around and with every step that shortened the distance between him and the closet, Tao cringed and held onto me.
“I’m tied up and blindfolded, you idiot.” she groaned. There was something about this girl. She intrigued me in a way I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
What happened after she had said that, we did not know. Maybe we didn’t want to know even though our imagination took over control. The only thing that was clear to us, was the moment Zico left the room and closed the door with a incredibly loud noise. He was angry and clearly didn’t have any control over his own emotions.
By the time I could convince Tao of leaving the armoire, I could into various thoughts. I needed to speak with this person. But when we got out, she was unconscious. “Who is she?” I whispered and took a better look at her face. I had a strange feeling that I had seen her before.
“Don’t know. I don’t know anyone that lives at another floor.” Tao grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the door. “We need to leave. You need to go.”
It took me a great amount of seconds before I could allow myself to stop looking at her. She seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t place her. But Tao was right, we needed to go. We needed to leave right now.
The weekend crawled by. I couldn’t describe, not even to myself, in words what it felt like. I hated this, not being with Tao. We needed to sort things out. There were still lots of things that I needed to ask him.
It didn’t make any sense. Nothing did. I slammed my fist on the table and exhaled deeply. After calming down, I looked around and realized that my apartment was a mess, a mess as big as my head was.
I needed to sort things out. Right now. Think this through. Inhale. Think. I tried telling the story in a chronological order, something I hadn’t done before.
First we had Tao nearly graduating as a psychiatrist. Someone, Dr. Daniel Armand Lee, set him up and sent him to the wrong address. Tao became a doll and the doctor chased another dream, becoming a neurologist.
Somehow, a year later, the doctor visited the Lennox House and hid an orbitoclast underneath Tao’s bed, without even being seen by him. He also highlighted words in one of Tao’s books. The orbitoclast had a note which said 11-256-257.
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