Endless loop of madness - William afton X reader

54 - Mental chaos in my head

She didn't exist. She wasn't real. No, I just misheard, or my ears were playing tricks. A figment of my imagination. None of this was real. That woman couldn't be real, not anymore, but her name still sent my mind into this doubtful worry of what if? She still could hold everything over my head.

She knew too much. She has to be gone, because there was no way she was still around. We would've met by now. She and her ways of being annoying with everything she does.

I stepped in front of the bathroom sink, seeing myself in the wall mount mirror. Sweat lingered on my skin with my hair dishevelled from stressing. I'd die before I do anything at this rate. There was no reason to stress, but it was that woman's fault with her silence. She was the reason I became careless, rushing through and ended up dying. It was all her fault, and she should've died, if I were to be honest. If she only had died, things would've been a lot better on my end, the worry of her talking. Good Riddance, to that damn wench. Her memory was lethal with how she was, holding everything like a weapon. There was a reason for her silences, and it wasn't for my sake. She'd be damned if she even shared an ounce of love with me. She stressed me out for a complete loop, just to disappear. What a vengeful woman, downed in misleading cloth.

I washed my hands up to my elbows, scrubbing until the skin was raw. Water ran over my hands as my eyes glanced back up at myself in the mirror. I knew what I had to do, and I had to go there anyway. Might as well not take my time and fix the issue before it becomes an issue. Seeing if it was her or someone else, but knowing her, the first time she even spoke of me wouldn't be this silly. She must have there been aware of what she was doing?

A trap? Maybe. She rarely put in any effort outside of her looks and being unproductive. What did she actually do? Besides getting in the way, complaining, flirting and doing her nails for the 100th time with a magazine in her hands. The way she sat so comfortably there, doing the same thing day in and day out, the peace on her face. How back then was so peaceful. How she tried so hard to seem like she was taking any notice of anything, but that smile she did when she thought she was right. Peaceful times.

I splashed water onto my face. What was I expecting if I left earlier than usual? Not her, but if it was. What would she react? Cry? Flee? Try to attack me? If it were her, would she miss me? Would she realise we only have each other now? Or was she heartbroken that her 'husband' wasn't hers anymore? I was pretty sure he had another partner before her, but that woman never stopped getting what she wants even when others weren't for her to have. No relationship has ever stopped her before. Why now?

If it was her, what had she learned over the loop? How has she changed over the loop? How would she go through her life? Was she coping well? Was she doing her same old lashing out and running away from her problems, scrapping her 'being a changed person' attitude?

Likely, case was that she wasn't real. She wasn't around, but I had to make sure of it, so I could sleep peacefully because my nightmares weren't hers to terrorise. My mind wasn't for hers to cause havoc.

= (Y/n)'s POV =

I spent a while matching my work uniform with what the dress code was. Certain colours to match the environment, be part of the family type idea. While it was fall themed, they gave me this ugly Reddish orange coloured vest with a company logo on the right, and a name badge.

I already did my makeup and curled the raggedy mess I called my hairstyle with the smallest curlers I have. I didn't have much of them, but pencils and pens did wonderfully.

Wow. Love being young again, totally. Limited money, limited things, limited everything. I missed just waking and being showered in love, given everything to me by Richard, while I did my hair and makeup without much bother like this nonsense. Never have I ever had to use other things to do up my hair. At least the crisis into a haircut checked out, like I needed a change of appearance every once in a while and during this crisis was an ideal time.