Implication – Character by Indirection:
There is a double bed against one wall of the room, neatly made with white sheets and a thin blue quilt on top. Opposite the bed is a dresser with a collection of meager clothes. Nothing fancy is inside, no suits, no ties, only long sleeved shirts, jeans, and thermal underwear. Beside it there are no dress shoes, but hard worn work boots instead. On a nearby chair a heavy work jacket lies across the arm.
At the desk, a small engagement ring with a single diamond lies beside a well read Fabio romance novel. A wardrobe holds womens clothes. Again, nothing fancy but plain dresses, a few blouses, and a single pair of slacks. A pair of low heels and a pair of flats are lined up beside the dresser.
On one night stand a photo of a happy couple sits framed in silver. The woman is wearing a simple white dress and the man is in a faded suit. They are holding hands, yet standing with a few inches separating them. Even though they are smiling, the smile on the man’s face doesn’t entirely reach his eyes. Inside the drawer on the night stand is a small collection of more Fabio romances.
On the other nightstand sits a digital alarm clock. Inside the drawer, a bible keeps another photograph hidden from the world. In the photo, two men embrace in a loving manner, one holding the other close from behind, his chin resting on the other’s shoulder, his face turned inward, as if to whisper sweet nothings or to deliver a kiss. Their hands are intertwined in a tight grip, suggesting that neither of them are willing to let go.
Implication – The Untold Event:
Upon the first initial glance, the room appeared to be just as bare as all the others in this unused portion of the hospital wing. Each room contained nothing except a twin sized metal bed frame painted white, a thin mattress, and a small dresser, all covered in a thick layer of dust. This room was no exception to the furniture or the dust. But there were other significant differences.
A white sock lay in one corner of the room, its mate in the opposite corner with a shoe on top of it. The other shoe lay on its side under the bed. A pair of light wash jeans were beside the bed, crumpled together with a pair of boxers on top. Blood had dripped onto both of them, though where ever or whoever it had come from was no longer in the room. Sitting amidst the dust in the middle of the floor was a faded Aerosmith T-shirt, torn down the front. A leather belt was still hooked to the metal rails of the bed’s headboard, drying blood coating the edges, and staining the aging mattress. White paint had flaked off to reveal the dark metal beneath where the belt had relentlessly chaffed against it for some period of time.
The mattress was balanced precariously on the edge of the frame, ready to fall with a slight touch. Mixed in with the dust on its surface were several fresh semen stains and blood spatter. Blood coated one of the bed posts, rolling down to create a small puddle on the floor. Bits of skin and hair stuck with the blood to the post.
The unused hospital wing smelled musty as a whole, but this room also stank of sex, blood, and sweat all rolled into one horrid stench that filled the nostrils and refused to leave even after one had left the room.