Aliens Don't Exist 9

"Aliens Don't Exist"

'Chapter Nine'


Dib had been admitted an hour ago.

He had been so scared coming up to the white building; his hands were shaking, his heart was beating and he was sweating all over. It was his worst nightmares come true; staring up at the formidable ivory-bricked building, staring up at the bars on every window, walking into the sterile environment and knowing he had just walked into hell.

It couldn't be happening…!

It couldn't!

Dib had fought the urge to thrash when a nurse took his hand and guided him to a room to change; he was ready to have a panic attack, his breathing exaggerated and his mind was going blank feeling like a caged animal.

But he had made it.

Made it this far.

Dib was currently in his room alone, situated in a corner and hugging himself. He was dressed in a thin white gown; feeling more exposed than he had ever felt in his life. He felt cold even though the temperature was normal and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't step further into the room. He stayed against the wall, his amber eyes flicking here and there and taking in the clean desolate space.

There was only a single bed; the walls white, the tile white, the bedding white.

It hurt his eyes to stare at the bright color.

He pinched his eyes shut, mumbling to himself, "You'll be fine. You'll be fine. You'll be fine." His heart was thudding against his ribs, "Just a month. A month. Only a month. One month." He bit his lip, trying to get a hold of himself, trying to find reality that had become buried under his need to panic.

He had to stop acting like this.

He knew they were watching.

He could feel them watching.

There were cameras in the four corners of the ceiling; monitoring him. He knew that hiding against a wall wasn't giving him points towards sanity but he just couldn't help it. He felt so insignificant and strange in this depressing room and he just wanted out.

With a collected breath he opened his eyes again, trying to stare hard at the room, trying to get used to it.

There was a window, one right over the bed with thick black bars on it.

Black; that was a better color than white.

Dib took another few deep breaths, focusing on the dark color and all it reminded him of.

Reminded him of his clothing, his trench coat, reminded him of all the battles he faced – all the ripped black jeans and tears in his leather coat.

Black also reminded him of Zim's gloves and how the latex felt against his skin; somehow soothing in its impersonal touch. He also thought of Zim's antennae and what they were like when he felt them, how it made the alien shudder and gasp.

Dib smiled softly to himself, "I can do this." He let out a breath, "I'll be fine."

His eyes drifted to the bedding, noticing the smooth metal frame that didn't have a sharp point on it – all rounded. That steel gray made him think of medical instruments; Zim's examining table – fond memories despite how perverse and sick it was.

Though as he continued to stare he noticed no other colors; but that had been good enough to settle his mind. Black and gray; the in-between in this white world that he could latch onto and hold.

Slowly but surely Dib inched his way out of his corner, taking small baby steps towards the bed.

He knew this was one of the best rooms in the entire hospital; knowing his father must've paid quite a bit to get him a quiet space alone to be watched. Dib was glad he wouldn't have to be around other crazy people, glad he would be alone to his thoughts most the time. In a month he would be free, he could go back living how he was, go back to chasing Zim.

Dib paused in his movements towards the bed, lifting his chin and looking towards the barred window.

Zim.

Would Zim know where he was?

Would he come get him?

Dib didn't care to wallow in self-doubt and think about Zim not being real. He had to believe; this was one of the times he just had to push up his hope and trust and just know the alien was real and he'd be coming for him.

He'd get out one way or the other.

Either in a month, or when Zim got him.

He could do this.

He'd be fine.

Dib let his eyes drift back to his space; noticing how there wasn't a sharp corner anywhere. There was nothing he could use as a weapon, the thought only crossing his mind because when he fought with Zim anything could be used to defend himself. But, in this sterile space there was nothing to be had.

Well…

Unless he counted his glasses.

He could smash them and use the shards as a meager form of support if something attacked him. Dib frowned slightly; knowing he had to appear as sane as possible to even keep his glasses. They had wanted to take them when they took everything else from him but he had pleaded that he needed them.

His eyes weren't just bad, they were awful.

Without his glasses he couldn't see more than a few inches ahead of him. The shapes close were all fuzzy, but anything beyond that were just blurs of colors and he didn't like it when his world was so un-defined.

"No." He said to himself for no real reason, resolute in his ability to keep his single luxury as he inched ever closer to the bed.

Once he had finally made it he tentatively sat down; the thin blankets making a scraping sound as his meager weight disturbed them. The mattress was hard, but it did have some give, and if Dib could sleep on a metal table he could surely sleep on this.

Dib looked around the space from his new vantage point; staring at every impersonal inch of it, trying to get used to the room he was going to be spending a whole month in. He wasn't sure if he'd remain isolated, but he sort of hoped he would. He didn't want to venture anywhere outside of his room, afraid of everything he'd find outside of it.

Slowly he drew his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, hugging himself in a defensive posture as his gaze dropped to his feet. He was only wearing his socks; they were an off-white color, an older pair since he hadn't put fresh ones on that morning and he was sort of regretting that now.

It was good to focus on the little things.

If he kept focusing on the insignificant points of his life right now he didn't have to think of the big picture; and if he didn't think of the big picture, he didn't start feeling depressed.

He wiggled his toes, his eyes slightly unfocussed as he watched the meager action; his fingers fisting into the fabric at either side of his knees.

A shuffling sound started him from his thoughts and he immediately moved further on the bed, running himself right into the headboard as his large amber eyes tried to figure out where the sound was coming from.

It sounded like metal on metal; and he could hear footsteps.

Zim?

Was it Zim?!

Dib braced himself against the headboard, his eyes finally falling on the metal door where the scraping was more prominent. His heart was beating hard in his chest and he hoped beyond hope that the person to emerge through the door would be his alien foe.

The door finally swung open and revealed the person whom seemed to have had trouble with the locks since he held a nice ring of keys in his left hand and a clipboard in his right. As the taller doctor caught Dib's eyes he smiled, his blue eyes twinkling in a way Ms. Bueller's had never done.

"Hello there." He said kindly, stepping into the room and shutting the heavy door behind himself.

As the stranger busied himself with the locking system Dib slowly peeled himself away from the top of his bed, and sank further down into the mattress. This time he didn't draw his legs up mainly because he was more or less wearing a paper dress now and he felt too self-conscious with someone else in the room.

Dib's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the person's back, noticing the properly pressed white coat and the wrinkle-free black slacks that just slightly fell over black shoes. As the man turned he flicked his eyes right back to his pale youthful face, taking in the sight of those same kind blue eyes as well as the bright smile he wore.

He looked friendly in every sense of the word; and for some reason the crumpled tie around his neck made him seem more personable.

But Dib didn't trust easy; not anymore, not since he had been a child and he was starting to grow paranoid of his new shrink and everything that might lie beyond that happy friendly mask.

Dib didn't buy it.

He couldn't.

He wasn't fixable because he wasn't broken.

This new doctor thought he was crazy, just like Ms. Bueller and one wrong move and he'd be sent further into the bowels of this hell hole.

He frowned, his eyes narrowing, "Who are you?"

"My name is Mr. Dwicky," He extended a hand; "I'm here to help."