Don't Hug Me I'm Scared One Shots

After The Fact: Panic

((So I tried to get the real song for this, but appareNTLY it's not available in my country and I'm really upset because it just ruined the whole story. Ah, whatever. Have a read anyways))

Je suis très inquiet
J'ai peur de ce qu'il serait capable de faire
Au cas où quelque chose m'arriverait
Five days. That fucking phone has been ringing for five days.
Only, I wake up and see that the sound I thought was the endless ringing of a phone, is actually the squeak of the house settling, or the distant sounds of a bike bell.
I opened my eyes, only to be hit with a blinding white light. I let out a pathetic groan, shielding my face from the light, and hiding back under my covers.
The ringing starts up again, quietly. It sounds like it is coming from somewhere downstairs. Maybe if I ignore it, it'll just go away. I tell myself that it will, but deep down I know that it won't.
The phone rings again, only this time, it's closer, like it's in the hallway. I huff, trying not to move as if the source of the horrible sound could sense movement, find me, and swallow me whole. I know that no one will come to pick up the phone, because apparently no one else can hear it but me.
The noise persists, right outside my door. I tense up after every ring, trying my best to ignore it. I know that it won't stop until I get up, but my fatigue keeps me glued the bed. I convinced my self that if I don't address it, it would go away, yet it's ear-piercing shrill would not cease.
Now, it's loud and clear, echoing in my mind, making my head pulse with each terrifying screech. I press my sweaty palms against my temples, begging it to stop, and let me sleep. Of course, it doesn't listen. I throw off my covers, since they were getting too warm for me anyways.
"Enough!" I yell to the four walls of my small room.
Finally, the ringing grows muffled, and it morfs into the sound of people talking downstairs. I hear dishes clattering, and useless chatter.
I let out a long sigh, opening my eyes cautiously and stepping out of bed and onto the cold floor. I stumbled, haphazardly closing the floral curtains to prevent myself from going blind. Glancing at the time, I nearly panic.
6:19 a.m??? It couldn't be, it was way to bright outside.
The old digital clock must finally be broken.
I picked it up from my night table and tossed it into the waste basket in the corner of the room. Well now that I was up, it was probably best to get dressed and go downstairs, since it would be rude to stay in bed all day when there was work to be done.
Mais c'est un robot...
Que pourrait-il faire?
I trudged to the bathroom, rubbing my watery eyes gently. I never understood why these people got up so early on a Saturday morning to do chores, but since I was a guest here, it wasn't my place to question anything they did.
After Harry left, I just couldn't handle being alone in that awful place anymore. I knew it was a bad idea to leave when I could have just waited for Harry to come back, but things were getting out of hand, so we left all of it behind us.
I stared at my reflection in the large mirror, cringing inwardly at the dark circles under my eyes, and my messy, black and green hair. I turned on the faucet, splashing my face with cold water to rid my body of all the fatigue still left in my system.
Putting my hands on the sides of the sink to prop me up, I looked at my reflection now. The same tired amber eyes stared back at me, but this time, my caramel coloured skin was dotted with little beads of water.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something white flash by in the mirror, and it made me jump. Clenching my fists, I stared out of the door way, observing the surroundings carefully. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw that it was only one of the other tenants in the house that was just running in and out of rooms, doing errands.
You're fine Robin. You don't live on Mortimer Road anymore. You don't need to watch your back constantly anymore.
I closed the door, grabbed a towel and dried off my face before continuing to get ready.
Once I was done, I threw on some pants and a red dress shirt. I eyed my reflection in the mirror, scowling as I realized the shirt was stained. I barely had any clothes to change into, since I left most of them back at the old house...So I just threw on a brown jacket. The same brown jacket that I wear almost every day. I couldn't help but wonder what the people here think about me, the newbie who came to their door crying, who doesn't get up on time, and who has virtually nothing to wear.
But this wasn't really my fault. If they had been through half of the things Manny, Harry and I went through, they would act like they were missing few screws as well.
Il n'y a pas de limite à sa puissance;
Il peut détruire la terre
Come to think of it, they sort of already act like something's missing. Like their heads aren't screwed on that tight. Ever since we moved into the home with the block parents, things have been running a little too smoothly.
Everyone here is just so giddy and up-beat, it's honestly sort of scary to be honest. I feel as if in any moment, something could go horribly wrong, but maybe that's because I've been living with ghosts and demons for about 5 years.
I headed downstairs quickly, holding onto the polished black railing so I wouldn't lose my balance. I walked down the carpeted hallway, towards the kitchen.
As I entered the chartreuse room, I almost scoffed. After more than 5 weeks of living here, I still can't seem to get that face Paige makes whenever she sees green out of my head. It's sort of odd how the things you expect to remember the least stick around for the longest while.
I smile politely at Candice as I enter the room. She's one of the kids who came here too. Ran away from home, apparently. That was only one of the things we had in common, since we were two of the oldest 'victims' here. I've talked to her a couple times, and she seems nice...just like the rest of them. I swear, it's like they're not even human. The closest I've ever seen her to expressing any emotions out of downright jolly is when she argues with Steve.
Steve is one of the block parents. He keeps this place with his buddy, Fred. Both of them are really tall, intimidating, and oddly touchy, and I don't quite like it. I'm not too sure that their intentions are that pure, if you catch my drift.
I sit next to Manny, who is surprisingly up before I am. He gives me a toothy grin, and I reply to him with a smaller one. Manny seems very happy here, unlike me. Well, as long as he's happy, I'll surely find happiness. Though I do find it sort of strange that he never asks about Harry.
The day I found the letter that Harry left for us, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to react, I didn't know what to think, I didn't know how to tell Manny. And the thing is, that it happened right after an encounter with another one of them.
Usually, it'd have to be a while before another one shows up again, and in that period of time we could have fixed things.
It could have been great.
I will never
Free you
Hand in hand
I still remember every last word on that piece of paper, to this day, and it's such a shame because Manny doesn't seem to remember anything.
Usually after being exposed to any of the inanimate objects in the house we used to live in, Manny would show a few signs of memory loss. They were just small amnesias, when we met Paige and Tony, but after being around Shrignold and Colin, this is the worse they've ever been.
I suffered a bit of memory loss as well, but they weren't as bad as Manny's moments.
In fact, after Colin, Manny couldn't remember much, except for his name, his father, and that he lived in that house.
I had to teach him who I was all over again, and lucky for me, that he attaches himself to people very quickly.
But it's still not the same...
I worry about him, because he isn't the little boy that I used to know, back in the house on Mortimer Road. He acted...different. That's a way to put it. He seems more aloof than normal, and he's very distant, but since his body is still here, that means his mind is here too, right?
Right???
A part of me feels like he doesn't know me as well as he used to, but deep down, I also feel like he wants to remember. When I found the note, I didn't tell Manny anything about it. And though he didn't even ask why Harry wasn't in the house, he did notice that something was different. He shows interest in wanting to know Harry, he's seen pictures of the red head, and he draws someone who looks like Harry a lot.
One time he found the picture that I decided to take from the house, to remember the good times we had. It was of me, Harry and Manny. He insisted on hanging it in the kitchen, because he liked it so much.
Little does he know.
I jump out of my thoughts when Candice taps me on the shoulder. Breakfast is being served, but I'm not really hungry. I watch as Manny wolfs down 6 bowls of porridge. I had to stop him, or else it would just look rude. I frowned as he pouted and sat back in his chair, obviously furious at me.
To be fair, the boy was losing weight, which was odd because he was eating so much. I always catch him late at night sneaking to the fridge to get more food. He must be having a growth spurt or something.
Once breakfast is over, I offer to wash the dishes. As the room emptied, I sat back down next to manny, whom of which stayed in the kitchen to 'keep me company'.
I knew it was just because he wanted to sneak more food when no one was looking.
There was a long, painful silence, before any of us spoke again. The room felt cold,and it felt as if we were both being watched, very closely. My heart skipped a beat once I saw the date on the calendar.
June 19th.
"Something's...different..." I mumble to myself, to break the silence. I look over to the picture of the family I once had, hanging on the wall.
"Something's missing..." Manny replied to me.
We both look over to the drawing he made, of Harry and us. For a moment, I swore I saw that Harry was standing outside the window on the picture, and that I had large x's over my eyes.
When I blinked, I saw that Manny was now looking at something, or someone else. It was Tanner, another kid that Steve and Fred were now in care of. He seemed...off.
Oh no...
Standing just inches behind him, was one of them, their unearthly pale skin and transparent body sending shivers down my spine. I know that I've seen them in the old house before, I just can't remember where. They were literally using Tanner as a puppet, and I could see through the charade, even if his actions were seemingly innocent.
The black smoke surrounding Tanner's body clouded my vision, and before I knew it, Candice and Steve were also in the kitchen with us. Their eyes held nothing but the cold hearts of the things that used to torture us, and it was then that I knew that we couldn't escape.
No matter where we go, this chaos follows us, and it's not fair. I don't want to do this anymore!!!
Stick together
Free you
Hand in hand