Nekro-Narcissistic

Chapter 6 - Boils

          A day passed. Then two. And a third. On the third day, the residents of Hotel OJ had decided they would get the bravery to venture down the stairs. The hotel was once again spewing with life, the usual chatter of objects filling it's walls, albeit with a lower volume than usual. What exactly had made them gain the confidence to come back down was unknown, however most took OJ's influence as enough to do it. They admired his strength, and ability to push through the hard times.
The only object that still refused to come down was Pepper. In fact, she hadn't even left the hotel in the past three days. Not after what she had seen outside, which she was still trying to wrap her head around. She spent most of her time in her room, and since she had a bathroom in there, she only left to get food. However she would only grab something small quickly, as if she was in a hurry to get back up as fast as she could.

Soap was busy in the kitchen, not cleaning for once, instead she was preparing a meal. It was no secret that Soap was a good, no, a great cook. She really had a knack for it. She took advantage of the fact that the objects had finally all come out of their rooms to surprise them with one big meal. She thought it would be helpful in calming everyone's nerves.
The big pot sat atop the stove, sizzling and bubbling. She smiled as she cut vegetables like carrots and corn and threw them into the pot. The smell was heavenly, and she was sure that the warm soup would help everyone take their mind off of everything that was happening. She momentarily forgot her recipe, and went to seek out the necessary ingredients. She picked up the oil from a tin and put it in the pot-
Oops. The lid fell off, emptying almost the entire container in the pot. The sizzling came to a boil, bringing up the heat to a max.

"Oh- shit!"

Soap cursed under her breath. Great, it was ruined. Just like everything else. No, no. She assured herself she could still salvage this. Just like OJ was trying to salvage the spirits of their fellow friends, she could fix a simple pot of soup.

Trophy still had not gotten out of his bed. Tissues, awoken by the sweet scent of Soap's cooking, was just about to go downstairs, but he stopped and turned to face Trophy.

"Awre you coming down?"

He asked. Trophy just shook his head.

"Youw know, some good fowd could help yow feel better."

Trophy didn't answer. Tissues shook his head and opened the door to leave.

"Fine, stay thew all yew need, but I suggest yew think about how it wasnt yow fault."

The second he looked up, Tissues was gone. He thought again and again about the words Tissues had just said. He must have been sitting up in bed for a good 20 minutes, staring at the door. He should really try to get up. But, why should he? And really, it was his fault. No matter how much he hated Salt, he never wanted her to suffer. He didn't think he would feel this awful about Salt, of all people. But, he would have to move past this. Maybe this was karma, for how he's treated everyone so badly before. He was an asshole,and he was getting what he deserved. Still, he wanted to try. Maybe, just this once. He would show that he was the bigger person. That he wanted to be better.
He threw the covers off his bed and sat on the side. He took a quick look down at his legs. Of course, they still had cuts on them, some being bandaged up. Soap had been the kind soul to help him with that. He decided that she would be the first first person he'd talk to when he got down. Hell, he already knew she was the one cooking that amazingly smelling food, which he really wanted to try. He stood up, albeit a bit shakily. He groaned, holding the side of one of his legs. Seemed like they still hurt. However bad it hurt, he was still determined to go downstairs.

He opened the door and went through the hallway. It was completely empty, as he had expected. He kept a steady pace as he made his way through, only stopping just before the stairs. He looked at the door to a certain room, that being Salt and Pepper's room. He wanted to see if she was in there, but he decided against it at the last minute. First, tackle this task. Then try to apologize.
He stood at the top of the stairs, motionless. He analyzed his way down, each stair and step. But what was he doing?? It was just a staircase. No need to get so worked up. It was what happened here that made him nervous. But he'd have to do it sooner or later.
He put one foot on the first step. He shakily clung to the railing, as if he was already scared of messing up. Nobody would be there to catch him, and he'd join Salt.
No, no. He couldn't think like that. Just go down. Move. But his body wouldn't respond. He just stood there, shaking in place. He felt like a coward. Like he couldn't do anything but stand there forever. He wanted to cry, cry and run back to his room and never come back out.