𝘔𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮 | 𝘚𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

6. First Impressions

2nd Person POV:
You continue to scrub at the blood stains on the bathroom floor and walls, your arms getting tired. Who even made the bathroom this dirty? This is repulsive... After scrubbing at the floor and wall for what seems like forever when it finally looks clean. The color difference makes it seem like it's not the same bathroom. The walls changed from brown and red to a pale grey. The floors are just plain wooden boards. Now for the rest..

You re-rinse the sponge and put more soap on it, beginning to scrub at the sink. The gunk from the sink clears easily, turning the sink from brown to white. You will have to deal with the brown water another time. For now, clearing the dirt everywhere is top priority. You sigh and crawl over to the toilet. You flush it once to see if it works, and to your surprise it does. You breath out in relief and begin scrubbing the toilet from bottom to top. It also clears off surprisingly well. You only spend about 10 minutes scrubbing the toilet until it turns squeaky clean.

You smile at your work. You try to ignore the excruciating pain in your ankle by cleaning. The next thing to do is the shower.

You take down the shower curtain, planning to wash it after. You need to clean the actual shower first.

You rinse the sponge once again and put soap on it. The shower is so disgusting. No offense or anything (not like it makes a difference saying that), but it is gross! Blood smears the shower, bloody handprints cover top to bottom. "Okay, here I go," you breath out. You begin scrubbing the walls. The blood looks strangely new since it smears easily, plus it's still dripping wet.

After you finish cleaning off the shower "walls", you start to clean the tub part of the shower. You turn on the shower to do that, and it works nicely. Next is the curtain.

You simply just rinse the curtain and wait as the blood from it washes away into the drain.

Soon, after 15-ish minutes of hard work, you are exhausted. But you still have the rest of this house to clean. You groan, grabbing the sponge and soap, slowly walking out of the bathroom, walking into someone. "Oumf‐!" You say, getting pushed backwards. In front of you is none other than Thomas. He looks down at you, holding what seems like a first aid kit.

"Do you.. need something?" You quietly mumble. He points to your ankle, then to the first aid kit. "Oh..! Um, sure. Thank you, Thomas," you tell him hesitantly. He grunts and ushers you to sit on the couch. You do as he says and sit on the couch.

He lifts your right leg (which is your injured leg), opening the first aid kit. He pulls out a gauze roll, wrapping your ankle with it gently. You wince at the touch. He finishes wrapping up your ankle. When he's done, he closes the first aid kit, beginning to walk away. You grab his arm before he leaves, standing up to hug him. He stares at you, shocked. "Thank you," you whisper in a soft voice. He just grunts, pulling you away from him in a gentle manner. You smile at him. He doesn't smile back, but he just looks at you, appearing to be happy. Thomas isn't mean at all, just a little misunderstood. I just need to show little bits of kindness to everyone.

"Back to cleaning," you mumble to yourself as Thomas walks away. Your ankle feels better wrapped up, but it's still sore. You grab the sponge and soap, walking to the bathroom to rinse it. As you are rinsing the sponge you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around, expecting to see Thomas, but instead see someone else. You jump. "Eep-! Who..are you..?" You ask, stepping backwards.

In front of you is a man with curly black hair and... a mask? A porcelain mask, to be specific. The man also is very tall. "Hello," a small, childish voice comes out of the man. "Oh, hello.." you reply quietly. "Who are you?.." you question, tilting your head. The man stares for a moment, then answers, "Brahms." You give him a soft smile. "It's nice to meet you, Brahms. My name's Y/n." You can't tell if he's smiling through his mask, so he looks highly intimidating to you. "I need to continue cleaning, so.." Brahms doesn't reply. "Okay.. if you want to, would you like to see my cat, C/n?" You ask. Brahms's eyes light up. That makes you feel a little better. "O-over here," you tell him, exiting the bathroom. He follows.