In which a mysterious Calum sitting alone in a corner catches the eye of Y/N
Rating: MA-15
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death, Asylum!Calum
Word Count:
Written by Madalyn x
Of course he wasn’t the easiest one to notice.
He didn’t have red hair like Michael.
Of course he didn’t have the pick of friends.
He didn’t have Ashton’s charm.
But still, he did have one thing.
He had my attention.
He had my curiosity focused on him like a laser pointer.
The tan boy, tattoos dotted over his arm which was peeking out from the stark white sleeve of the hospital gown, who simply sat in the corner table with his eyes on his scarred hands had caught my attention somehow, and I was transfixed on him.
From his chocolate eyes to his caramel skin, I was hypnotized by his everlasting light.
No one could really work out just exactly where he came from or why the hell he was even there, and the stories flowed thick as fast from other residents of the facility. He just showed up one day, no warning from any nurses, no tour of the facility before he was admitted. He was just there one day, sitting at the abandoned corner table in the mess hall during dinner.
“I heard the new kid’s dad beat him so bad that he finally got sick of it and he murdered his father.” Michael blurted out quickly and all of a sudden one day at breakfast, making the three of us jump from our own little worlds back to the real one.
“That’s so bullshit. Look at him. Do you really see that guy murdering someone?” Ashton chimed in with a snicker of disbelief. His point was solid. Looking over at the fragile soul hiding away from other people in the corner, the sight of him wasn’t one you would immediately compare to a murderer.
“I’m not even kidding! Dr. Gaskarth told me!” the red head urged, slamming his hands down on the table, earning a collective groan from the table from both the loud noise and the absolute idiocy of his story that could only be fitting with all the rest of his insane theories. But of course, all of those who knew him were familiar with all his strange, never linking conspiracy theories.
“Because we’re gonna believe the compulsive liar that the head psychiatrist told you confidential information on a new patient? Yep. Sure thing, Clifford. Sure thing.” Luke scoffed, eyes rolling and sitting back in his chair. He chewed at his lip piercing, a nervous habit, as he looked over to the mystery in a human body sitting all alone in the corner, hidden away from humanity.
“I don’t like the look of him, anyway. I’m getting bad vibes from him.” he stated, matter-of-factly, turning back to us with a frown gracing his features.
From that point on, I kind of just stopped paying attention. My eyes had already wandered to the tan boy sitting all alone in the corner. I didn’t want to hear anymore theories from the boys of what he could have done. He didn’t seem like the violent type. He looked like he would break down in tears at any moment.
“You’ve been real quiet there, Y/N. What’s up with you, huh?” Ashton’s voice broke me from my trance, bringing my attention back to the three pairs of eyes watching me. My mind wandered back to my friends, still distracted. Maybe he was lonely over there? Maybe he was just too anxious to speak to anyone on his own and he just needed a little push? With all the rumours going around, I can’t imagine what it would be like to go up to someone on my own.
“Nothing. Nothing… I’ll be right back, okay?”
I didn’t give them any time to respond before I stood from my chair and made my way down the line to the corner table, pulling out a chair ad plonking myself on the seat just across from the strange new boy. He didn’t look up nor speak a word as I rested my elbows on the white table between us. My eyes didn’t leave him for a second, and so it was almost impossible to miss the flinch that rocked his body at the screeching of the chair legs.
“I haven’t seen you before. New here, huh?” I offered an opening into casual conversation, but he didn’t say a word, didn’t lift his head and he didn’t even act as though he had heard what I’d said. He just kept his intense gaze down on his scarred up knuckles and tattooed hands as if they were the most interesting items in the world.
Gnawing at my already shredded bottom lip, I sighed.
“Look, I know you’re new here, and I know it’s daunting to try and make your way in this place, trust me, I know, but there are some pretty ugly rumours making their way around here. You’re going to need an army to fight the kind of bullshit I’m hearing, but a friend might be a good start.”
The words left my lips in something of a hiss. I hadn’t meant them to sound so harsh, and I immediately regretted my tone as soon as I watched another violent flinch wrack his fragile body, hands tightening to clasp the other even tighter than they had been previously. I had definitely gotten through to him, but god, I wish I had have done it in maybe a gentler way.
With yet another sigh, I shook my head, my unkempt hair falling around my face before I pushed it back again.
“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I’m just trying to help. It’s every man for themselves in this place, but having a pack helps. Remember that.”
Without another harsh word, I pulled myself back to standing and walked my way back to the table surrounded by my shocked friends. I didn’t look back at him, knowing I had done enough damage for one day.
Days blurred into weeks before I even thought of anything I could say to the tan boy. I didn’t even know his name for the longest time, but I soon found out that he was assigned to my group therapy room. As the circle came to him, the staff member running the session spoke one perfect word.
“Calum.”
Once again, he didn’t look up. He didn’t even acknowledge her call, and when he didn’t respond she simply left it alone. It struck me as strange when the doctors didn’t push him. Weeks and weeks passed, and they didn’t make him say a word about why he was there. They were not in the business of pussyfooting around big issues, so why would they avoid making him talk about what happened?
Weeks continued to flow by like the river just outside the fence, trapping us in like animals, just out of reach.
Calum still hadn’t spoken to me, no matter how hard I tried to make him. Our routine was almost set in stone now; I’d sit down in front of him, make some kind of comment about the food he would never eat or the weather outside, and he would blatantly ignore me, I would leave to go back to the boys who had stopped even questioning my behaviour. After almost a month and a half of this, my resolve was beginning to wear thin. Of course I didn’t want to give up on him, but I found myself over at his table less and less as the days flew by. I simply stayed and chatted with my boys. I began to lose hope that he would open up to me, and although that idea broke my heart, I knew it was a very real possibility that he wouldn’t open up to anyone.
But then came the first incident involving the scared soul.
The quiet close of the heavy ward door was what woke me from my slumber, and the pitter patter of light footsteps down the hall was what urged me to climb out of my bunk. Peeking out the door, I couldn’t see much, only what seemed like a figure making their way down the abandoned hallway. I couldn’t make out a fact, or even a distinctive shape. I thought maybe that it was just a nurse checking up on one of the at-risk girls, but no other doors were opened, and the footsteps just seemed to go on forever.
The darkness was dense, and I could barely make out the shape of my own hand as it touched my nose, the only illumination being the light of the moon pouring through my room’s window, and even that was scarce.
A deep breath left my lips as my legs began to carry me down the cold linoleum floor as if on their own accord. I followed behind whoever it was, until they noticed me.
The footsteps stopped and I heard whoever it was draw in a quick and shaky breath.
I ducked into one of the empty rooms, pressing myself back behind the door in hopes that, if it was a doctor or a nurse on a simple bed check, I wouldn’t be punished. Holding my breath, I closed my eyes and hoped for the best as the footsteps began to draw closer and closer to my hiding spot.
“Is that you, Mali…? Please be you…”
The voice that rang our around me was quiet and shaking, a rasp that sounded almost painful to release the words with. It wasn’t the voice of one of the girls, it was too deep, or even a nurse. I’d never heard it before.
Swallowing, I took a deep breath in in order to mask my fear as I carried myself out of my hiding space, the door making a distinct squeaking noise which seemed to startle the figure standing only a few feet away from my own lightly shaking frame. It’s an idiotic idea to follow mysterious footsteps in any case, let alone in a place like this one.
“Who are you?"My voice was far stronger that I thought possible at that point, although it was still riddled with fear and regret that I hadn’t just minded my own business and gone back to the safety of my bed.
"Mali? It’s me… It’s Cal… Please tell me that’s you? I know you’re okay.."The tone was louder now, almost panicked as I heard him whip around to face where the sound had come from
The image of the ever mysterious Calum slumped over at the corner table fell into my mind.
Months later, and no one had any idea why the hell he had just appeared one day. He hadn’t done anything like this before. He wasn’t one to cause trouble. He would just sit quietly and do absolutely nothing. This was the first time I’d ever even seen him out of the mess hall or the therapy rooms.
"No, Calum. I’m not Mali, My name is Y/N. Do you remember me? I like to think that we’re friends..”
I whispered, hearing a choked noise fall from his throat as I denied the identity of the girl he must have been searching for.
I expected him to maybe explain why he was here, maybe who Mali was, but no, he didn’t say a word, not move a muscle for a few seconds before he displayed the first amount of emotion I had ever seen displayed on his hard and distant features.
He fell against the wall, slid down, and broke into sobs.
“Calum?” I asked, voice slightly more confident now.
It was utterly strange to see him finally showing some kind of emotion, no longer sitting and staring at his interesting knuckles, rather expressing normal human emotion.
He didn’t answer me as I called, only tried his hardest to silence the violent sobs that ripped their way from his cracked lips as they rang out through the lightly illuminated hallway.
With a soft sigh, I slid down the wall beside him, the cold of the linoleum floor making its way through my hospital gown to cool the skin lying beneath it. Carefully, and taking precautions not to touch the fragile Calum sobbing beside me, I knocked on the plaster wall to try and get his scattered mind to focus on me.
“Calum, come on, talk to me.” I whispered, and he finally responded. His head whipped around, revealing two tired and bloodshot eyes staring into my own.
In the scarce moonlight, I was able to get a closer look at him. His lack of eating had definitely taken a toll on him; he was skinny and weak, eyes and cheeks sunken in, bones sticking out sharp enough to see through the thin material of his gown. It was very clear that he hadn’t been sleeping. The bags under his exhausted eyes were almost his most prominent feature. He looked sick, a far cry from what any sane person would class as a healthy human being.
“I saw her… I thought she was dead… I was sure she was dead, I saw the all the blood… I felt her dying in my arms… but I fucking saw her… Mali’s alive.” he muttered through sobs, rendering him almost unintelligible. I was able to make out his words somehow, however.
“Who’s Mali, Calum?” I asked slowly and softly, trying to keep him calm as I reached my hand out to offer a calming embrace. In hindsight, I probably should have seen how stupid of an idea that was.
He violently ripped himself from my grip, letting out a screech as he shrank back into himself, curling up into a shaking and screaming ball. His shrieks were deafening, nothing I had heard a human release, and nothing I could have ever seen coming from his throat when I would look at him.
“They lied to me! I didn’t kill her! She’s alive! My sister is alive! I didn’t fucking kill her!”
His inhuman screams quickly awoke the other girls in the ward, and alerted the nurses on duty to the scene unfolding in front of me.
Calum dragged his overgrown nails and slightly dirty down his arm, the sensitive skin turning an blistering and angry red under the intense and sudden assault. Blood seeped through the new cracks in his skin, morbidly decorating his one blank arm.
“Calum, stop!” I cried, jumping forward to pull his hands away from his skin, but instead he just swiped at me, breaking the skin of my forearm and leaving an almost perfect claw mark down my arm as little dots of blood began to break through the surface of the aggravated skin.
I fell back in pure shock at his strange attack, but didn’t get all too much time to comprehend what had happened right in front of me as nurses swamped the scene. The blinding light of the fluorescent bulbs in the ward shined down into my eyes, illuminating the dull area of the hallway. The white walls had been gruesomely decorated with the blood Calum had drawn from himself with his inhumanly long nails, and the dotted linoleum floor make a violent squeak as the scared teenager standing in front of me tried his best to make some form of an escape.
Four nurses, at least from what I saw, did their very best to calm the thrashing and panicking Calum, until one of them decided that there was only one way that they could calm him enough to drag him out of the foreign ward that he had snuck into. Within seconds, Calum’s screams were dying down as he began losing consciousness, falling limp to the floor with a syringe in his neck, a small portion of the red tranquilizing liquid still resting in the chamber of the needle.
One of the older nurses helped me up, the stern look on her face softening as she noticed my bleeding arm and shaking form. She was a kink lady who had seemed to take a liking to me over the almost year I had been housed here.
“Are you alright, Y/N? How did he get in here?” She asked, but I couldn’t form words in any form. My mind was so scattered. My first real contact with Calum left me maybe even believing some of the boys’ crazy stories. Maybe he was really crazy.
“Y/N. Y/N? Are you alright, sweetheart?”
Her familiar voice brought me out of my own head and back into the real world.
“I-I’m okay…” I managed, voice shaky and weak as my eyes drifted down to the blood quickly drying into the hair on my arm. I picked at the dried red substance, and it flaked off with ease.
“I’ll get that cleaned up and take you back to your room, alright? We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” She told me, helping me into the office of the ward and into the sterile and hardly used first aid room. It smelt of rubbing alcohol and gauze bandages, as well as disinfectant and some other cleaning products that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
No words were exchanged between the two of us as she cleaned my bleeding arm and bandaged it tightly, leading me back down the once again darkened hall to my small room. I could feel all the curious and judging eyes of the other girls, watching me out the creaky doors of their ward rooms and hiding from the elder nurse escorting me. I felt naked and vulnerable under their stares, not even sure what that happened to me that night.
I settled back into the warm sheets of my bed, but my eyes didn’t want to close. All I could see was Calum, scared and screaming for his sister; vulnerable. The first time I’d ever seen him express any kind of emotion, and he’d let me into what seemed like a large part of why he was here.
A restless and ultimately useless sleep did finally grace my exhausted body just as the sun slowly began to shine its first gentle rays just over the hills behind the large building that housed all of us. I tossed and turned all night, the thought of the scared Calum I knew, screaming for his sister, ringing in my ears all through the night.
