Chapter 5

Rose didn't notice when her hair turned blonde again, but she found out the hard way when the security guard described her appearance to the doctor. The doctor was a wild but sensible man himself; a man that enjoyed torturing the innocent fools.

"Doctor Selle, please, I have to see him." Doctor Selle was walking down the yellow stained halls, all the while the patients stared at Rose through the slit windows.

"Please, I'm his best friend. I'm all he has. I have to see him." Doctor Selle stopped and turned around on his heels with a deadpanned look.

"The last time I checked, Ms. . ."

"Rose, please."

"He had a wife."

"But, they haven't been together in seven years," Rose lied. The doctor stopped for a moment to think, and then he decided he didn't care for Sam's mental health, so Rose was let into the dining commons where Sam was muttering absolute nonsense.

"Sam, it's me. Please, what is going on?" He slowly shook his head side to side as his blue eyes faded in the pale light.

"Shh. . ." Rose calmed him, and he stopped; his voice coming through his muttering. He was shaking and moving his head this way and that.

He laughed uneasily, "The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream. The only lives are the lives before it melts. The only delicacy is the one in your heart. The only life is the life after death. Darling, whip me up some sensual curds and dance in the white creamy dress. I am a boy again. Please!" Rose came to Sam quickly to try to quiet him. "You have not long left to live before your feet will protrude, too, beneath the covers. The lamp will be fixated on your horny feet. No! But that must mean you'll be old when you die, my love. I'm sorry, but you'll be old!" Sam began to moan with terror. "No! Nooo!" He shook his head as if he tried to forget what he told himself. "But I won't age because I'm the emperor of ice cream!" He cried the last bit out before he tumbled to the table, beginning to weep softly into his elbow.

"Shh. . .Sam, what happened? What's wrong? Tell me, it's okay." Sam was heavily breathing into the verge of tears when he spoke.

"I—I want. . ."

"Yes, I'll get you anything, only if you promise me you'll drop this act."

"I want ice cream." He said between breaths. "I want ice cream." Sam struggled to breathe in between his words.

"Okay, I'll come back tomorrow with some."

"No!" Rose jumped at his sudden vociferous tone. "I want—I want—" He dug his palms into his eyes and screamed. Rose was about to stroke his hair to reassure his poor soul when the doctor banged on the door. Walking out slowly, Rose's face was petrified by Sam's violent outbreak.

"I want ice cream you demons! Ice cream! Please! Can't a little boy have his cake and eat it too? Isn't it too much to ask for a perfect life? Please! Please!"

"Ms. Rosen."

"Ah!" Rose was startled by the doctor's sudden appearance behind her. As he babbled to her about the problems of another meeting, Rose stared through the one-way window at poor Sam who sat alone in the enclosing, faded yellow room of torture. "I want to know he's being treated properly here—"

"—I can assure you, miss Rosen, he is. We have the state of the art medicine and technology to help rehabilitate him—"

"Can I pay you to release him?" The doctor froze.

"Well, how much are we talking. . .Yes, I suppose I could turn a blind eye if he leaves. You know, many of our patients jump over that wall at night to experience the world outside the psych ward. . ."

Rose came back with the ice cream she promised in hand to find the creepy young man lying back in his chair, staring off into the distance, even farther past the yellow-stained walls that held patients of depression, bipolar disorders, and schizophrenia.

"Doctor Selle," he sat up in his chair smiling wildly. "Now can you let Sam go in peace? You don't have to do anything else besides that."

Rose walked in to find Sam sitting there with his head down. "Sam," Rose quietly said. His head jerked up almost immediately at the sound of the door.

"Rose!" He happily cheered.

"Shh. . .Have you been good like you promised?" Sam nodded.

"Yes, but I want ice cream." Rose carefully walked up to the metal folded chair in front of him. It was cold against her legs, and as she sat, she noticed how terrifying the room was from Sam's perspective: The walls continued upward at least five or so more feet than in reality, and the floor itself seemed to shrink and bend inward.

"Come, follow me. I'll be waiting for you over the walls. . ."

Outside, the fresh air gave them a new profound freedom. It was a warm, sunny day with the light green trees swaying in the summer breeze and the city folk out and about the town. They rushed by, going somewhere important, and never once noticed the handsome pair standing there admiring the beauty.

"Sam, what happened? What was that all about?" Sam had his hands in his pockets and was cheerfully swaying his feet to the rhythm of his walk. His head slowly moved up and down as he took the beautiful park setting in. It was extraordinarily beautiful: the wet lively grass and light green leaves carefully glowed with the same consistency underneath the hot sun. The trees provided cool spots of shade hidden from the sunlight but allowed flecks of shimmering golden specks to seep through the gaps between each leaf.

"We should celebrate you getting better, Sam," Rose offered. "What'd you like to do? Go out for ice cream?"

Sam swayed toward her and softly smiled, "I would love to. After all, I'm—"

"—the emperor of ice cream. Yes, I know." Sam's smile never dimmed as he explained to her. 

"No, I'm not the emperor. No one can be. He's the one who is in control of the ice cream."

"Oh? But I thought you didn't believe in the hierarchy of life like this?"

"But I do. Ice cream resembles the body: it only lasts so long before it turns to mush. I just don't believe in God."

The summer hints of warmth intensity grew to a scalding burn when Sam and Rose entered the Ice Cream parlor. Rose could feel the nice cool breeze the open door offered and the low bustling of the customers. On this hot summer day, there were many people scattered about the booths and stools—many of whom were wearing cool light-colored thin garments that seemed to float over their bodies.

Sam and Rose found a red booth by the door overlooking the entire parlor and even outside. After trying all sixty-two flavors, Sam decided to get the plain white vanilla ice cream and Rose the same with a red cherry on top.

"I wish I was the emperor of ice cream," Sam mischievously whispered behind the cream. "Then my ice cream would never melt." Rose conveyed him a confused glare of disapproval.

"What'd you mean?" She gave him a chance to explain.

"You see that boy's chocolate ice cream?" He nodded outside, staring at the boy who's chocolate dropped from the cone and splattered onto the hot searing concrete. "If I were to be the emperor of ice cream, then that would never happen to me." Rose laughed to herself dipping her spoon into the ice cream slush, mixing in the chocolate syrup she poured.

"You mean if you were God." Sam looked back at her without moving away from the window.

"No, I wouldn't. I told you, Rose, I don't believe in God." Rose held back a smile and rolled her eyes.

"Whatever."

The sunlight from the hot outside glared through the thick panes and neither cast a single shadow on the white tiles nor did it deepen the red. The light turned the red an innocent pink, but it never brought in its heat. It was always cool in the ice cream parlor; That's why Rose liked it so much. It was from that day forward Sam was crowned king of ice cream who hadn't any power over his loyal subjects, but yet they were loyal enough for him to be considered royalty. Rose was one of his subjects who adored him like one would a little boy.

When the light finally came through as the day got older, so did Sam. Rose was able to distinguish every splotch, every wrinkle he had on his dry parched face as the light illuminated him.

"You're aging, Sam," Rose was saddened to hear her voice ache with pain. The idea made her depressed. Sam was distracted by something from outside and couldn't tear himself away.

"We all have to die someday," he muttered on command.

"Yes, but you're leaving too soon." Sam finally looked over at Rose who was on the brink of letting her tears drip down her cheek.

"I won't die, Rose. I will be reincarnated after I fall off the cliff."

"But what will happen to me? To us? Will I even know you?" Sam was omniscient about the future six months before his death day, and he knew exactly what would become of the roses from his rose bush.

"I don't want to go back to Cecile. If she does believe I'm insane, then there's no use asking her for help. What we need is to find a way out of this loop."

"How are we going to do that?" Rose sniffed her tears back into her wet eyes, finding her composure. "Sam, what if my therapist is right."

"Fuck your therapist. This is a matter of life or death, Rose. You're going to die!" He hissed.

"Sam, do you know something I don't?" Sam stared at Rose and truly believed that he was the adult and not her. After all, he was older by four years. "Well, what happens in your previous lives that lead up to your death? Maybe we can try to counteract it," Rose offered. Her voice wavered and threatened to crack as she held back her tears.

"That'll never work," Sam scoffed.

"How do you know? You're always such a pessimist, damnit!"

"Rose, calm down. We're in a public space!" The two sat uncomfortably in the red booths as the sun died in the window.

"I have my therapy session now." Sam refused to look at her. "I have to go. I'll see you later." After Rose left, Sam began to age even more by the second as the sun sank lower and lower into the burning sky. He doubted this was the life when he escapes. Just because he left Cecile and the house, doesn't mean he was freed.

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