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"I'm sorry but this is just pathetic.." Schlatt sighs, he floats up from the floor and stares at my sad face. I had been lying in my bed for (I believe) two days now. I hated that he was right, but I was terrified to leave my room. "Come on, get up" He motions with his hand for me to sit up. "If you don't get up, I'm gonna possess you" He warns me.
"If you possess me, does that mean you can hear my thoughts?" I worryingly question. He's quiet for a moment before nodding, I sit up.
"There ya go!" Schlatt smiles at me. "Now, get yourself fixed up.. you look like a mess" He chuckles when I scowl at him. I push myself off my bed and walk to my door, I was hesitant to leave. "Don't worry, let me go check if he's in the house" He reassures me. I watch as he passes through the door, now I silently waited for him to come back.
I felt disgusting, how had a slap done this to me? I glance down at my bloodied arm, I press my palms against my flustered face and take in a deep breath. I just needed a shower and I'd be okay again, maybe a bath. Schlatt pokes his head through the door and I flinch back at the suddenness. "Oh my god, you scared me" I place a hand on my chest.
"What the fuck were you just doing?" He looks at me, disturbed. He laughs when I don't answer him. "Anyways, he's out. I'll warn you if he comes back" He promises me.
"Thanks, Schlatt" I smile at him. He nods and goes back through the door, I'm not sure where he was going but I wasn't gonna question it.
Out of all people, I wouldn't expect Schlatt to be the one to care about my mental-health. It made me more grateful for him though. I entered the bathroom and closed the door before I locked it. I turn my whole self to the mirror and sigh. Skinny lines of blood ran down my arm, some blood even soaked into my shirt. I also had a bloody kiss on my jaw. My eyes were tired and my hair was a mess. My god, how could two undead men love me so much they'd kill for me? I ran one of my knuckles below each of my eyes, wiping away the tears that were forming. I glance at the wall and make sure my towel was hung up before I got undressed and started the shower.
This felt weird, my experiences. I shiver at the touch of the water. Loneliness was now even reminded at the small touch of a drop of water? I run a hand down my bloody arm, wiping away the dried crimson. The aching feeling of attachment annoyed me to the point of scratching at my own skin. Something was wrong-- with me. I didn't mind the multiple toothy dots on my arm, in fact, I would let him do it again. And that definitely isn't sane thinking.
I missed the two of them, and I hated it.. but at the same time I didn't? I think I just hate that I like them more than any living man.
