Day 45: Intercom, Noon

[damned_intercom]

The voices of the chattering patients in the library, which was not as quiet as should have been expected, were cut off by the intercom clicking on and Nurse Lydia's voice coming out in its familiar indifferent manner. It was almost as if she and the Head Doctor were splitting up the announcement duties these days

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[unluckiest]

On top of the desk, there was a little notebook that didn't have a word in it, and a strange machine that began to play music when he pressed a button; thankfully, it stopped when he pressed another one. Perhaps he'd look it over later! A cursory search inside the desk revealed next to nothing. There was a metal ring with two keys on it; he pocketed the keys, just in case. Also, there were a bunch of pens (possibly to write in the small notebook? He took a pen and the notebook, too.) and noted that his pockets seemed to be filling up. He probably looked a little silly.

Also, there was a strange, long, soft-looking lump in the other bed. A... person? He walked over to the lump, and was about to prod it experimentally, when the door opened. Ashton spun around, a little surprised. If he'd had his swords, he might think about drawing them. Instead, his muscles just tensed, ready for fight-or-flight.

...It was a woman. A young woman, with a nurse's outfit on. Possibly a nurse. Ashton relaxed a little bit.

“Good afternoon, Paul! You're up just in time for lunch.”

Ashton stared at her for a second. What was the woman trying to say? … Was she holding a clipboard in her hand? Either way, it was certain that she had the wrong person. “Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not Paul.”

The nurse made a clicking sound with her teeth, then wrote something down. “Ah, the doctors were right. It's such a shame that you've had to come back to us, Paul, but we'll fix you up again... You don't remember being here before?”

He looked down, then clasped his hands in front of him. “No, I don't. Is there something... wrong? And, like I said, I'm not Paul. My name is Ashton. Ashton Anchors...?” He doubted she knew the name, but it was worth throwing out anyway.

She sighed, explaining. “This may come as a shock to you, but you've been living in a delusional world. Your name isn't Ashton Anchors, hon... it's Paul Pritchett. Here at Landel's Institute, we help you remember your real life.”

Ashton didn't want to hear any of this. Was everything that he'd remembered a lie? Of course not! He had very important memories that were not fake! Not one bit! If he was crazy, he'd do whatever he could to not be crazy, of course. But he wasn't crazy, right?

“Um, what about my dragons?” His question was a little shaky. but he had to have it answered.

But the look on the nurse's face told him everything he needed to know. Not judgment, so much - more something like pity. “You don't have dragons, Paul. Dragons don't exist.”

Ashton (Paul?) swallowed hard, and his shoulders sank a couple of inches. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't. He didn't want to believe that Creepy and Weepy didn't exist. Dragons had always existed! What kind of world was a world without dragons?

“...Oh.”

“Now, Paul, I'm sorry that you've had to come back here - but we'll get you fixed up. For now, how about some lunch, hm? We've got tacos today!”

...Tacos? Ashton wasn't sure if he knew what tacos were, but he guessed he'd go along with her. It seemed like it was the only way out of here, and maybe he could find someone else in his predicament. What had she meant when she said he'd been here before?

And the smiley face that he stared down at as she led him through the halls? It was no longer friendly - instead, it seemed to jeer at him, laughing mercilessly. Something like “Don't you just love your luck, Ashton Anchooors?” or “Sorry, you're stuck with me noooow!”

Yeah...

This was his luck.