The Random Proses stored away.

Humanity CHP3

After a day of nothing but happy people filled with joy, the child sits down on his shower floor, the water flowing nicely with a comforting warmth- It was nice, rarely could shower in hot water since it was prohibited back then for a reason, he doesn't know himself.

The water hits his back with the perfect temperature... It was soothingly nice... a feeling the child hadn't felt in such a long time- yet, the red light in the bathroom... that red sea, that red dream full of blood. It was just one man, one evil man. It feels so humane for the child to keep thinking about this... it hurts so much; it hurts to think about this.

He spent at least a few hours in the bathroom before drying up and getting dressed with shaky steps, his door was still locked but outside there was a plethora of handmade gifts just for him and it was still so annoying and absurd- The people stopped ordering him to do things which was actually... nice though, it felt lovely to be able to sit in your room all day with nothing on the frail child's hands to work on... nothing to make him go through so much in just one day, it was welcoming, exciting, and nice to feel something else than labor right now.

A nap should suffice for a few hours... but, handling a few nightmares again was horrifying. No, he didn't want to see the captain getting murdered again, never... no- never! The child walked outside, stepping over the gifts with a sigh, looking down at them with guilt. He climbed back up to the ship- the sound of waves was so weird now, it felt like... it felt so weird now. The sound of those waves kept reminding the child of the captain, and how his blood was a vivid red that stained the beautiful blue waters.

People suddenly were doing chores with a smile, conversing loudly with each other as most conversations at least had to include Olivier himself, of course- hearing his name out so loudly again... was suddenly a bit scary, the only man that would ever call him by his name so frequently was the captain himself, it was the man clad in white with an aura of death and torment.

Yet, the child can't help but look at the place where he pushed off the captain with full force, a reimagination of the scene registering as he continues to stare and stare with a confused expression. He was conflicted, confused- he didn't know what to do else know... everyone's so happy because of him... the murderer, the savior? The latter didn't fit with him though, all he saw was someone with blood on their hands. No matter how bad Gavins was, the child, Olivier can't help but feel guilt and remorse for everything and anything. It was so humane of him, was it not? To be so vulnerable, to be so weak and emotional, is what a kid truly should be. Not a working machine raised in a work or be killed situation, just a kid.

And that's the few reasons why change was so hurtful to him, everything is suddenly so bright it's revolting and disgusting- it was like he was dreaming a fantasy... a sick fantasy that was probably a lie- Wait, it must be a lie, no? Something like this... days like this... cannot exist, no... It's wrong, it's too wrong! Something good for once is happening- something wonderful, happy, and warm... that means, it's nothing but a hoax and lie that the child's been trapping himself in, right? Right...?

Lies never felt so happy and disgruntling this much before, it was like a real-life fantasy... everyone he works with... everyone he wanted to helped, are finally happy?

No, no- all of this is wrong, it should be wrong! It's not meant to be this way, isn't it? The child ponders and ponders with a disturbed expression, before anyone else could call out for him, he heads down walking down the hallway. He walked mindlessly, trying to find something to do, to slave and labor on...

The fire room, the cabins, anything? No, all of it's already done- everyone's already doing everything so enthusiastically with no limits...

Suddenly, all sense of purpose is lost... suddenly, all humanity is lost again. Why, is it just because he killed a man- everyone's just going to keep on thanking him for that reason only? That thing only? He's supposed to be a worker as well! Stop... pampering me. The child thought and gritted his teeth, looking down.

Why, why, why would they take everything away all so sudden, sitting around... laying around... has never felt right, it never felt good. It made the child feel useless, purposeless, and just awful- Maybe, talking to them? Talk to them, tell them how disgruntled you are... please, say something... don't let your only purpose be taken, please.

That's what he ended up doing, he talked- begged... but, nobody replied. They were too trapped within their happy fantasy as they laughingly work and play around at the same time- the other's who had words to say just replied with a simple... "You deserve to be a bit pampered, kid... you saved us, you're our savior after all." Stop it, please? The word savior rings into the kids ears... feeling like this, living like this...

The child in defeat tries to rush everyone, trying to be first- but his frail self was just snatched his purpose of. People just saying that they'll lend a hand out of the blue, taking his tasks and chores away with no questions, and especially avoiding the child's attempt to get the chores back either with force or words. Why is everyone being such hypocrites? No, we work as a team they say... suddenly, just because he was doing good murder, he isn't a part of the team? Just because he murdered someone?

It hurt, it stinged badly... Why are they being absolute jerks? The child thought and pondered with animosity.

He then just resorted to staying in his room again, with nothing else to do- he goes to the bathroom one final time... the red light is the only noticeable thing now, it's the only evident thing in the child's life. The color red, the water, the teeth of a harpoon.

Staring directly at the mirror, the faucet running as the sound of it goes back... it keeps going back like it always does, no matter how hard the mind tries to think and avoid it- the haunting memory comes back, taunting the child... the waters looked so red in the child's eyes... it looked so vividly red like his blood, like his captain's blood.

It was daunting on him, the fear he felt... these emotions he feels, the humanity in him suddenly trying to force a new version of who the child was never... being something, being a nothing...

The sink overflowed, the water pouring down onto the kid's feet as the red kept reflecting into the water in a disgusting way- the entire room looked like it was painted in blood, The child looked at himself... he looked like he was painted with blood.

The world felt so shaky, his thoughts were so violent as he kept staring at his reflection while tightly gripping on the side of the sink.

Do... my daily routine... my daily routine... the child only had this word repeating his head while hearing the sounds of someone struggling, someone dying... someone just asking for forgiveness...

The child grabbed their toothbrush, instead of using it naturally... they placed it on their neck, thrusting in- blood gushed out as the blade made contact with their throat, the gurgling sounds of the child struggling as their head falls first into the water, the sink pushing the box cutter deeper in as the water truly becomes a vivid and darker red...

The child's hands fall to their sides, their final thoughts were still lingering on the captain's death... how idiotic is he? How dumb can he even more be? Why is he still caught up on this, he wondered before he died.

It was because he was human, he was like anyone else. Nothing special, nothing different. He's still a boy capable of losing it all... a boy capable of these thoughts.

Someone so young, someone so hurt. It pains to see one like this, does it not?

The sink overflows with a beautiful red color as the child kneels there, dead, and unburdened.