Charlie Swann

Untouchable.

It was a hushed title in socialite circles, those which Erron had always known, ever since Canada, ever since he was born. Borders held no power over that principle, the weight of his name now letting him get away with those things most would be ostracized for. Within the strict walls of a mental hospital should’ve been different, his actions looked upon with a judgmental eye as the impeccably suited gentleman sat in the garden with a clear glass of scotch sat by his arm propped against the table, yet he had no intention to abide by the rules held in place for the staff of the place. Icy blue eyes, uncharacteristically fatigued, were glued to the Chromebook folded open before him, a stylus hovering just above the screen until footsteps caught in the wind and made him blinks out of the daze. 

Without turning to the approach, Erron spoke up; “Did I not tell you to leave me be, I already told your colleague —” A pause occurred, the collected man taken aback when no hideous guard uniform greeted him, but someone else entirely. It took only a fraction of a second for surprise to mask the irritation, an apologetic smile appearing on soft lips. The hovering stylus swiftly clicked the sell button on the screen before finding its place in its holder, free hands now settling down on the wooden surface, the other drifting to the crystalline glass of liquor if only as a safety measure for onlookers.

“My apologies, I presumed you to be another one of those overzealous security guards. May I perhaps be of assistance?”

Maybe after his therapy session. If he still had a session… The office had been empty, the guards pointing towards the yard when Charlie asked about it.

The dusk was blanketing Thornewood in a soft shroud of darkness, the lights of the evening meal casting an ethereal light over the gardens. Through the thick glass, Casey could hear cutlery and chatter within the groups that had gravitated together. Although absent from the tables, the Aussie preferred to devote his time where he was now; On his own, staring down the exterior wall of the looming castle. The second-floor balcony worked as a pit-stop for his true target for the night — The rooftop.

A measured approach was never something Casey had excelled at, the bursts of action haphazard and spontaneous. The climb wasn’t calculated, the sprint a general attempt at ascending the wall. Rough surface met leather boots from the dash, the aged brick losing crumbs as the blonde kicked himself up, up, until fingers hooked over the gutter side. A storm of adrenaline helped trained muscles pull his form closer to the lip, an adjacent window accent working as a stepping stone as the metal started creaking from the weight set on it.

Boots barely had time to touch the ceiling before knees hit the surface. A caught breath turned into a victorious laughter, a mirth that broke off when the door beneath him creaked. Silently, oh so silently, he twisted around, facing outwards towards the garden. Defying gravity, Casey gripped the rim of the shingles and swung his torso over the side. A resounding “Boo!” more wheezy than he’d planned, but a throaty laugh still forced its way through when blue eyes found those beneath him. Upside down, long hair swayed in the gentle evening breeze and Casey risked shoving it back before sitting up, instead letting his legs drop over the edge. 

After that, he had escaped the overcrowded shithole Thornewood called a cafeteria and made his way back to the yellow floor. Eyes following him as he smiled at the patrolling guards. With a sigh, he pushed through the doors leading him onto the balcony. The soft cooling summer winds breezing through his clothes. “Time to go isn’t it Rose — “ He muttered softly to the phantom floating next to him. The eery smile of his sister present in the corner of his eyes. 

His finger was fumbling for a cigarette, just a few left... Not long until he had to go back begging at Camille for more...  Something he hated. Asking for stuff... 

As he lit the cancer stick between his lips he heard the sound coming from above him. Eyes traveling up as he turned around. Eyes wide as his cigarette was dangling between his lips. 

Free time. The nurse had received nothing but a blank stare at first when the concept had been brought up on Birdie’s first day, the two words all but foreign to her. Clearly she knew what they meant, she wasn’t an idiot, but thinking back through the immediate past, it was difficult to put together the last time she’d really had free time. It wasn’t a common occurrence in people who were seriously pursuing a professional career in ballet, or at least, not for her. It was a mix of instructed classes, intense stretch and exercise regimes to stay in shape, and running combinations until she drew blood - and then just a little further. 

So, to say the least, having time to do whatever was an adjustment, one she really wasn’t all that fond of, but the nurse had made it explicitly clear that it wasn’t exactly an option. The first few days had been rather rough, a certain blonde all but pouting in one of the television room chairs, trying to hold on to some semblance of composure despite her mind screaming at her for being so dreadfully unproductive. After a few days and the chance to acclimate to her new surroundings a bit more, she slipped into a slightly more comfortable mindset, seeking out something productive enough to satisfy her mind, but relaxing enough to keep the staff off her case. 

On that particular afternoon, she’d taken to exploring. It was a rather large facility, after all, and being such a low risk patient she had unrestricted access to just about all of it. She figured that she may as well familiarize herself with it a bit more, see just what she could get her hands into, what nooks and crannies she could wedge herself into in order to keep her technique up. 

Silent footsteps carried her through the threshold of a room that caught her eye, something she wasn’t sure she’d seen before. It may have been briefly mentioned during her tour of the premises, but clearly it hadn’t made any sort of lasting impression. Crystal blue eyes gazed around the room, eventually landing on another figure, seemingly the only other one in the unfamiliar area, who hadn’t seemed to notice her arrival. The budding ballerina stepped lightly over, peering around the turned back slightly, her voice cutting through the lingering silence and giving away her presence, hands clasping together behind her back.

“What’s that?”

After Summerfest, Charlie had spent most of his free time on the yellow floor, the same way he had done on the green floors. The only downside being it wasn’t as freely as before... He never expected the change between the green and yellow bracelet to be this much of a difference. Where it used to be just the eyes of the ghostly form of his sister following him, he was now being watched by multiple sets of eyes, guards and nurses alike, as he lingered in the Thornewood hallways. He never expected to see the eyes that once trusted him now filled with suspicion. As if he would take the first, the best choice to endanger himself again. 

He had gotten to where he tried to just shrug it off. ‘The art of not giving a fuck — ' the biggest life lesson his sister had ever drilled into him. If only Rose could see him now. Not being able to give zero fucks at all... Another way he had failed her...

At least there were still the rare rooms in which most staff members would just let him be. With a styrofoam cup filled with coffee, he had found himself in the small rec room next to the music room. He loved it there. It was small, kinda cozy, and usually deserted. With the rays of the summer sun shining through the gigantic windows, it basked the room in hues of orange and yellow, the air warm to his skin as he sat down on one of the couches his back towards the door he had entered seconds ago. 

Minutes passed in this room without his knowledge. His journal opened on his crossed legs as the only sound in the room was the scratching of his pencil and every so often friction of an eraser over the paper. 

“Jesus H. Christ!”

Charlie said clutching his heart as he heard the sudden voice behind him, his hands automatically closing the journal filled with music notes as he turned towards the unfamiliar voice. 

Immaturity lingered beneath the hazy summer heat, reckless innocence encouraged by memories of a wild youth and glow sticks in the dark. For Lexus Hale, such memories were few and far between, an injustice she was sure to remedy — often. 

A mischievous grin painted her model-like features wicked, mahogany hues burnt bright gold by the mid-afternoon sun and the promise of adventure. Spying a figure in the distance, the 22-year-old crouched behind one of the garden’s many thick shrubberies, awaiting the muffled sounds of grass softened footsteps to draw nearer. Sure enough, as the victim person rounded the corner, Lexus sprang from her haunches and launched her attack. 

That, however, didn’t mean Charlie was a hermit, locked in the building, not taking walks in the hot summer sunshine. Just like today. With a book stuck underneath his arm, he had made his way into the lush garden. The sound of the singing birds hitting his eardrums as he had a slight smile playing around his lips. Even Rose had taken the courtesy to leave him alone for once..! His feet carried him over the soft green grass towards one of his favorite trees. The shade being a brilliant way to stay cool and lounge for a couple of hours. 

It wasn’t a sugar high. It was a promise, unbreakable and unwavering, made by God and inexplicable magic. It was the full moon, invisible in the daylight as the sun sat atop his throne in the sky. Still, she felt it —  the pull of the moon —  its electricity coursing through her veins. It agitated her, this laughing sun that hung hazily above Thornewood. Night couldn’t come quick enough, said the note in her pocket.

However, like a true Bostonian, Lexus would not allow herself to sit idly by while the celebration of freedom sounded from outside her window. Besides, if Cordelia was to be believed (which, more of than than not, she wasn’t), this year’s Summerfest included an all-access pass to carnival games and fun rides. Venturing forth into the unknown, Lexus was struck by unfamiliar sights and smells. Flashing lights, brightly colored slides and carriages, Summerfest’s fair was straight out of a movie. Overwhelmed, the city-dweller couldn’t decide what to do first, having never attended such an event.

With the sun heating his pale skin he closed his eyes as the sounds and the smells hit him in his face. For a moment thinking he was back home, back at Fisherman's Wharf, Rose beside him. For a split second he could even hear her laugh ringing in his ears. A smile forming on his face as the bittersweet memory nestled itself in the folds of his mind. 

Charlie+Ellie’s Friendship

“These will all be stories one day, but right now these moments are not stories”

Summer was finally in full swing around Thornewood and the gardens were blooming. Bumble bees lazily hummed around the countless flowers in search of nectar. With the warm season Camille made sure to take any breaks she could get outside to soak up the sunshine. She had just barely managed to squeeze some time between a mountain of paperwork and rounds with patients.

Natalie Wee, Therapy talk

@natalieweepoetry

She likened navigating No Man’s Land, stepping over the landmines of heavy interaction and avoiding the bullet-piercing gaze of people she once considered friends. Standing face to face with Charlie slumped against the wall, Lexus sighed. Stopping in her tracks, she briefly flirted with the thought of turning a blind eye and entering the dining room as planned, but guilt gnawed at her before she even took a step. Sighing, she kneeled down, balancing her weight on the skinny black heels strapped to her foot.

“Charlie…” Red fingertips reached for him, rubbing his shoulder. “Alright,” She agreed with him, eager to silence his mangled speech, “You’re alright…let’s just—let’s just sit here for a minute, okay?” Brushing jet black hair behind her ear, Lexus waited for the stillness of Thornewood’s stale air to return, fixated on Charlie’s shaky breaths with each passing moment. Finally, letting silence pass over them, she squeezed his shoulder encouragingly before dropping her hand. Against her better judgement, two legs maneuvered until she was sitting cross-legged on the cool floor just before the garden door. “It’s not Ellie you’re worried about, is it?” She inquired softly, “Because I know it’s scary, but I really think she’s gonna be fine. I can’t imagine a better caretaker than Camille.”

   “O-Okay — “ The universe, Fate, God; or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it was a mysterious being. Charlie had the feeling he had been avoiding Lexus since their meeting in the garden. God, it seemed eons ago... It was before his birthday, before his accident on the roof, before his three days in the infirmary. If he had not been avoiding the raven-haired female he was sure she was avoiding him. Fuck, she didn’t even come to see him in the infirmary. Words that had cut through the core of his soul had felt more and more heartfelt the longer he hadn’t seen her.