D6 ♧ { Adan H. } ♧ Done

n o ♧ n e e d ♧ to ♧ p r a y
appearance

She blew a ring of smoke down at me, growing with its decline so that when I looked up at her it framed her face in a silver halo of her own narcotic design. She flashed a smile like a festering wound, a tattered banner stretched across her face to conceal the incorrigible torment alive in her blood. My mother was a prisoner of war, the scorned battlefield lying within her ribcage, shuddering violently to remind her she was still alive.

And I adored her. I adored my sick, senile angel of a mother who suffocated me against her bosom in the dead of night to assure herself I was her son and not another merciless delusion her mind forged amongst the smoke. I adored the mousy brown locks and the eyes the color of mountains as the sun kissed them awake. I adored the tawny constellations that freckled her skin with Andromeda, Pegasus, Capricorn, and Lynx. I adored the way her ears cupped her face like hands instinctively cup a fragile treasure. And I wore each of her gifts to me with haughty pride; like proof of my descent from God’s forsaken daughter.

“The Devil’s a beauty,” she told me when she came back from one of her drug-induced interludes. She always had a tendency to fly too far from Heaven. Her face was streaked in dirty tears flowing from bloodshot faucets. “He’s beautiful, and he’ll never let me go.”

n o ♧ n e e d ♧ t o ♧ s p e a k
personality

He inherited her banner.

Adan inherited the counterfeit optimism his mother used to costume her secreted affliction. He learned to don the warrior paints of smiles and confidence to hide the fear and uncertainty etched unto his skin. Only when the needle in his arm casted him thousands of leagues beneath the sea could he feel like he could come up for air. Only then could he thrash and scream at the world’s unfairity and the back-breaking burden he wasn’t nearly strong enough to carry alone but was too prideful to accept reprieve for. Only then could he pity himself and give in to the bellicose fatigue that consumed his every bone. And it was equally intriguing and terrifying; feeling less and less of yourself with every weak hum of your grotesque heart. Knowing that your blood no longer runs through your veins, but a chemical cocktail of foreign munitions meant to spark a reaction. Knowing that, in a battle against yourself, you will lose. Every. single. time.

But still he dreamed in color, the hospital couldn't confiscate that from him. He dreamed of the day he'd be strong enough to break the shackles anchoring him to the Home, and see more of the world than the small, unchanging sample in his bedroom window. He wanted to to live as fast --or slow-- as he wanted, the only timer confining him being the sands of Death's hourglass. He wanted to see what and who lay behind every mountain, know their name and their first love and what they did when it rained outside. He wanted to see an ocean, and how the moon colored it with its heavenly embrace. He wanted to know a world where he had a choice in what his heart beat for.

Adan wanted to be selfish.

But how could one dare to be selfish as they watch their comrade fall in battle, suffocated by the castle walls that stand thousands of feet away? How could one remain a mercenary as the child soldier marches on, ignorant of his own fatalities? How could one turn from the unarmed civilian as the lethal militia inside her veins rapes her life away? How could he possibly stand idle as she walks out into the battlefield alone, despite being absolutely certain she is stronger than them all? How could he leave her alone with the monsters inside her head who’ve tricked her into believing she is anything other than matchlessly beautiful? He couldn’t.

So he dares his heart to stop beating, comforted only by the fact that he has five reasons to live for and a phantom voice from years past in the back of his mind telling him, “Never let them go.”

n e v e r ♧ l e t ♧ m e ♧ g o
history

Location: Examination Room 2B
Time: 12:38 PM


Good morning! And what might your name be?

Adan.

Do you know why you’re here, Adan?

I’m sick.

What happened?

Me and my mom had to sleep in the rain last week and now it hurts to breathe. It’s hard to breathe. And I’m dizzy when I stand, too. I thi—

Why did you have to sleep in the rain?

I dunno. We just had to.

Your mother didn’t explain to you why?

…the men came to our house.

What men?

The men who work with my mom. They came to our house when she wasn’t home. And…. A-and put a needle in me.

Then what happened?

My mom came home. And she screamed at them. She hit a few of them, but they just laughed at her. And we rain outside, but it was raining. And it was dark, but Mama said it was safer to sleep in the rain.

…I see, well. We’ll have you feeling better and back to your mother in no time. How old are you, Adan?

Eight. What are those?

You’re rather tall for eight years old.

What are those things?

Medicine to get you feeling better, of course.

What is it?

Just trust me, Sweetie.

No! What is that?

Now, Ada—

Why can’t you just tell me what it is? Why is there so much of it?

If you want to get better, you’re going to have to tru—

Why should I trust you? I don’t even know you. I want my mom. Mama! Mama!


Location: Reception center.
Time: 12:41 PM


Hello Ma’am, can we help you?

I’m just waiting for the nurse to finish treating my son Adan.

…Adan? Nurse Delaney, did we take on any patient named “Adan” today?

No, Doctor.

As I thought. I’m afraid there is no Adan in our records today.

(…)

I’m sorry Ma’am, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.

B-but my son—

—is not in our system, I’m sorry. Now, if you would so kindly follow me...

Why are you trying to take away my son? Adan! Adan!

Your son is not here, Ma’am.

I just saw him go through those doors—

You see a lot of things, don’t you?

…..what?

Things you are so certain are real, living and breathing before you? They even have personalities and names? Until you try to touch them, however. And then you realize you’ve been alone all along. You always end up alone.

(…)

I can see by just your wrist alone you’ve had troubles, and I’m sure if you look for it, the right hospital can treat you for them.

….b-but my s-son—

--doesn’t exist. And never did.

(…)

Security, please escort the hysterical woman out of the Reception Hall.

No! No! Adan! No! He had to be real! No! He’s my son! No! Let go of me! Adan!


Location: Examination Room 2B
Time: 12:52 PM


No! I’m sorry! Mama! Mama help me please! Mama!


Location: Reception Center
Time: 12:53 PM


He had to be real! He had to be real! No! No! No! No! He’s all I have! Don’t take away my son!


Location: Examination Room 2B
Time: 12:53 PM


This is what happens to bad little boys who ask too many questions.

Mama!


Location: Reception Center
Time: 12:55 PM


Stop it! Let go! Why are you trying to take my son? Get off me! Adan! Adan! I know you’re real! Adan! No! No! Please don’t leave me alone!


Location: Medical Assistant’s Office.
Time: 11:33 PM


Where am I? Where’s my mom?

Another one.


Location: Medical Assistant’s Office.
Time: 3:03 AM


What’s… happening…? Mama?

Give him another.


Location: Medical Assistant’s Office.
Time: 9:21 AM


What? What’s—

Hello, Adan. How are you feeling?

Where am I?

How are you feeling, Adan?

….fine.

Excellent.

Where am I?

Why, Home, of course.

But what happened to the lady?

The nurse? You remember her? She’ll be fine, you didn’t kick her hard enough for any serious dam—

No, the other lady.

….describe her for me.

She’s really skinny, and pale. And she’s covered in freckles. I was supposed to…

…supposed to what, Adan? What do you remember?

(…)

Adan, come now. Did she tell you something? What did this lady tell you to do?

(…)

Adan, you can trust me. What did she say?

”Never let me go.”