[center][h2][i]A Miasma of Coagulating Dreams[/i][/h2]
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[img]http://www.theosophiaistheway.com/PICTURES/Mist%20Lake.jpg[/img]
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[i]0700, February 2nd[/i]

 [url=https://youtu.be/WVb1gsS1y8M]Disintegration[/url]
 
                When her eyes cracked open, she winced painfully at the orange glow from the opium light on her bedside table. It took her several minutes to understand exactly what time it was, or more importantly what day it was. Frankly, she didn’t have a clue, not that she cared. Ever since the day she kicked Sam, Shay, and the others from her apartment, she fell into a relapse. She recalled the words that Sam had uttered to her at the Tawdry, that he had left a present for her in the end table in her room. Sure enough, he had gone out of his way and purchased her an entirely new pipe set for her dependence. In her wallowing emotions, a mix of regret and anger, of spite and agony, she practically ran straight to her bedroom after locking the door behind her, and yanked the drawer open. To her relief, and relative surprise, she found a beautiful copper pipe with a jade bowl, and a matching oil light over which she could heat the opium with a similar pair of copper tweezers for her to hold it over the flame. Nothing sounded more inviting than to lull herself into a drug induced sleep, one where she could forget everything, the incident at [i]The Spirit of Tuscany[/i], the passionate morning with Shay, and the fury of her brother. One could call her childish, and she wouldn’t deny it, for she felt immature in her actions. Yet, as she recoiled back on the mattress, and brought the pipe to her lips, inhaling slowly, she felt all of her worries become a liquesce fog.
 
                The passing of the hours merged into a heavy blanket of mist, a miasma of time, one that she could not discern one hour from the next, nor the passing of days. Every time she opened her eyes, she did not rise to feed herself, to shower, or to take care of any other bodily needs, rather, she remained in her bed, curled close to the bedside table, her pipe clutched in one hand. It was there, in this opium-induced state did she wander through a haze of dreams, one dream blending into another, which soon felt like a singular dream that continued when she shut her eyes. A blur of fantastical dreams that simply made no sense. She dreamt of Shay, how she envisioned his warm arms wrapping around her, and she dreamt of her mother, where she could recall the distinct sound of her voice as she spoke to her, but the words she could not hear, nor could she see her mother’s face. She dreamt of wandering across purple heather fields shrouded in mists, she dreamt of running away from an unknown pursuer, and she dreamt of people emerging from the mists to speak with her. Again, their faces she could not see, nor understand the words they spoke unto her, but it seemed that she at least understood the meaning of their words.
 
[i][b]BANG, BANG, BANG![/b][/i]
 
                Startled at the excruciatingly loud noise, Vera woke from her dream-like slumber, and scrambled to sit up in bed. Hesitating, she remained on the edge of her bed, her eyes wide with fright, and heart pounding in her ears. Did she imagine that? Was she hearing things again? Sometimes after waking suddenly from a continued bout of smoking, she often heard imagined sounds, so she was uncertain as to whether what she just heard was real or not. A trembling hand covered her heart as she desperately tried to slow her racing heart. A sudden wave of nausea overcame her, for the lack of food and water had left her in a weakened state. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror that hung over her dresser, her skin seemed paler than usual, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. Not to mention she had a horrible case of bedhead, for the curls in her hair sprang away from her head like coils on a spring.
 
[i][b]BANG, BANG, BANG![/b][/i]
 
                There! So she wasn’t hallucinating! Through the closed bedroom door, she could hear a voice calling for her. Was it Sam? What day was it? Grudgingly, with a heavy pit in the bottom of her stomach, which could simply be a lack of food, she stumbled from her bed, and hastened for her flat’s door, a sudden headache sprang on her, making her see colors. She bumped into a vase that she could have sworn wasn’t there before.
 
“VERA. It’s Sam, open the door, or I’ll break it down.” The sound of his voice made her ears ache, and her head pound all the more.
 
“You don’t have to be so loud…” Vera grumbled, as she struggled to unlock her door from the inside. When she lifted the hook, the door swung open suddenly as Sam pushed his way inside, behind him was Shay.
 
“God Vera, you look like shit.” Sam said as he kicked the snow from his boots, glancing at her with scrutinizing eyes. It seemed that his anger had not abated.
 
“Shay…” She ignored Sam’s biting words and turned to face Shay instead. Her first initial reaction was to reach out and embrace him, but she recalled the day she kicked them out from her apart, and she wondered if his feelings for her had changed. “How’s your shoulder?” She asked, his injured shoulder was hidden from sight behind his worn pea coat.
 
“Christ be damned, have you been at the pipe this entire time? Your flat smells like the rear end of a horse. Do you even know what day it is?” Sam demanded, discarding the chance for Shay to reply, he made his way to the tall French windows, and threw open the curtains. Wincing at the sudden light of day, Vera sought for words, but none came to mind. She didn’t know. How many days [i]had[/i] passed? Sam took her silence for his own answer.
 
“It’s the 2nd of February, Vera. You’re supposed to go see the Von Goethe’s today. Do you remember that at all?”
 
“Already?” Her eyes widened in astonishment. Four days had passed, and she hadn’t even noticed.
 
                Coming away from the window, Sam headed straight for her, where he grasped her jaw in his hand, to her, it felt like she was caught in a bear trip, and his fingers were the iron teeth which held her in place. Chilling steel grey eyes peered back at her, as if searching for an answer, one that he already knew as he stepped away from her, uttering an agitated sigh. “Things never change with you, do they? Look, you best get your mind right, and go freshen up. It’s a two-hour drive to the Von Goethe’s, so we’ll leave in an hour.” Sam disappeared into the kitchen, where the opening and closing of the cabinet doors, as well as the running of the tap hinted as to what he was up to. Now that it was just Shay and her in the room, she desperately thought of something to say, but nothing readily came to her mind as she stood in her living room, a heavy awkwardness growing between them, her eyes stealing secretive glances at him all the while. Emerging from the kitchen with a glass of water in hand, he held it out to Vera to take. She did not reject this act of kindness, for when her eyes landed on it, she realized her overwhelming thirst. In one go, she downed the entire glass, and the shaking in her hands subsided, and a bit of her headache as well.
 
“Go. Get cleaned up, and I’ll make breakfast.” Sam ordered, and to his relief, she reluctantly obeyed, slipping off to the washroom. “C’mon Shay, you can give me a lending hand, eh?” He gestured with a wave of his hand to follow him into the kitchen where he set about pulling various items of food from the ice chest, such as eggs, milk, and from the pantry, beans and bread. Normally, Sam never had to see his sister in a state like this, as she lived above Mr. Harrison’s, and she kept to herself, out of trouble, out of mind, out of the way.
 
“Look… Silas told me what Ingrid said about Vera, and I know that you know, but please, for her sake, don’t mention a word of it until after this job is done with your marks. I need her focused. While you’re working, I plan on visiting their clan, and seeing if what Ingrid says is a lie.” Sam mentioned as he cracked several eggs into a cast iron skillet. The sound of sizzling egg whites filled the tiny kitchen. It was evident to him, as he looked about the kitchen, that by the lack of dishes, Vera hadn’t eaten since she threw them out. The skin pulled tight over her cheekbones was clear enough to him. Part of him felt guilty for exploding on her, but another part of him felt angry again, why did she act so irresponsible? All she was doing, was burying whatever problems she battled with, beneath the thick smoke of opium.
 
                Turning the knob for the water to fill the tub, still a new contraption to her, Vera gathered fresh undergarments from her room, along with the tea dress Shay and her purchased from the market. When the tub had filled, Vera carefully discarded each layer of clothing, casting them onto the floor like unwanted refugees. As she stepped into the water, she let out an audible sigh as she lowered herself into the water. When she settled into the porcelain basin, the warming water helped soothe her taunt muscles, muscles she didn’t realize were taunt to begin with. She carried on with her normal bathing rituals, and when she had cleaned herself sufficiently, she emerged from the water, and pulled the plug. While the water drained away, Vera brushed her teeth, brushed her hair, and pinned it oh-so carefully. Finally, slipping the peach-cream colored fabric of the tea dress over her head, Vera gazed at her reflection staring back at her. Some color had returned to her face, her cheeks were rosy in hue, and her skin had lost some of its ghostly shade. Pleased with the resurgence in color, Vera left the bathroom to find Sam and Shay just setting the kitchen table for breakfast. Her brows rose in surprise at the sight of the two of them working together.
 
“You look much better now.” Sam mused as he glanced up at his sister. And he wasn’t lying. At his compliment a light flush of pink bloomed, the thin peach dress trimmed in lace flattered her skin tone, and brought out a peculiar sheen in her eyes.
 
“Thank you.” She muttered, a bit shamed for her past behavior, her eyes gazed at the meal before her, stunned at the generosity of the two men before her. There, her eyes flickered to Shay’s, and then away again.
 
“Are you coming with us?” Vera prompted, curious as to why Sam had even bothered to show up today.
 
“Aye. The roads are a bit bad from the last bit of snowfall. I’ll drive you, since your guise is a well-off couple, you’ll need a driver. And that’ll be me. Now eat up.” He said, gesturing towards the eggy-in-a-blanket, toast, beans, glass of milk, and bacon.