Bad Guy

Two

Their house was enormous, a word which still somehow managed to make the house sound smaller than it actually was. They all live together, so it was reasonable that they would have a large home however I was not expecting it to be so big. The outside was spotless with gardens that where perfect - flower in be a  rows and trees in organized clusters - which matched the inside of the home well. It was old and smelt like it, although it wasn't quiet musky, and their was  hardly any dust to be seen. Yet it screams  of life and held little details about the people that live  their, exactly like a home should be. Frames sat atop the fireplace, photos of the three heros during their daily lives inside  them, bookshelves with books missing and sticky notes reminding the owners of things littering its frame.

I was speechless at the sight of it, somehow knowing that my own house was the polar opposite of this one. It was messy, yet not in a lived-in sort of way, with hardly - if any - personal items and photos visible. But I missed my tiny apartment - that looked like a shoebox compared to this mansion - and their home scared me, made me feel as if I was dirtying its halls just by being there.

"I'm Patton," Morality said as he led me to my room. It was fairly close to the room that the other three shared yet far enough away to make it seem like they weren't keeping tabs on me. "Prince is Roman and Logic is Logan."

"I can't remember my name but you can call me Anx," I tried to smile at him but it didn't look nearly as real I hoped it would. The fact that I had no memories to fall back on made something inside me squirm with the sort of sadness that made you tired instead of crying.

"This is your room," he said, gesturing to a door that looked just like every other door in this ridiculously large house.

"Is that burning?" I asked instead of saying the 'thank you' that was on the tip of my tongue. He seemed shocked by my question before panic flooded his eyes and he ran back down the corridor.

I heard him sprint down the stairs with a cry of "Prince! I told you that you aren't allowed to cook!" I shook my head fondly at their antics before walking into my room.

My room was probably the size of the whole house (okay, not really but you get my point) and had a large bed in the centre. I had no use  of it was queen or kind sized and frankly I didn't care, it made no difference to me because I could still drown in the sheer size of it. The huge pile of blankets didn't help. A desk sat in front of a window, a small cactus on the windowsill, with a computer and various papers on it.

I briefly wondered why they had a room like this spare, it seemed way to fancy for a normal spare-room, before dismissing the thought. I should just be grateful that they did.

I wanted to explore, but I didn't know if they would be okay with me leaving my room without permission. Something, it lurked at the back of my mid and I couldn't reach it, told me that I shouldn't leave, that something would happen if I did. I knew listening to that voice was irrational, but I listened to it anyway and sat in my, slightly dark, room. My skin was crawling for some reason and I decided to sit by a window and open it - something in my head telling me not to, but the tightness of my skin contradicted the voice - letting both the light and fresh air in. I relaxed slightly at that, something about the outdoors relaxed me and the light made my skin feel looser and my chest lighter.

I wish I could remember why I reacted to these things the way I did, but something told me that I wouldn't want to know.

I was about to fall asleep when Morality - Patton, my brain mentally corrected me - walked into my room. I hadn't heard the soft knocks that announced his presence and jumped off of the windowsill I was delicately perched on, landing on my - already somewhat sore - back. I winced and pushed myself back up before looking at him expectantly, I didn't make eye contact that same voice told me that was a bad idea. 

"Dinners ready," He said through his (surprisingly) well contained laughter. I smiled briefly at the smile he sent my way, before wiping the expression off my face. Why did something so trivial make me... happy? 

"Okay," I said, because what else was their to say, before fallowing down the stairs. Something in me was happy that there was no sign of fire as I walked into the kitchen, the voice screaming about how fire was bad. I briefly wondered why it didn't scream at me when the thing had caught on fire before shrugging it off, the voice knew me better than I did. It remembered my past after all.

"Hello, Anxiety," Logic - Logan. His name is Logan - greeted me as I sat at the table. The fact that I was sitting in a chair seemed unusual, but (once again) I couldn't place why. Nothing made any sense, and it was beginning to frustrate me.

I slowly started eating and the food - I had no idea what it was, which shouldn't surprise me anymore - was the best thing that I had ever tasted. Not that that was saying much, I had only tasted said food and a handful of rubble (from what I remembered anyway) and any form of food would definitely taste better than rubble.

The dinner was awkward, for me at least. I avoided adding input into any conversation, knowing that my opinion wouldn't be welcome, and they didn't try and get me involved in said conversation. I was relieved when I could finally take refuge in my bright room... except it wasn't bright anymore. The sun had set and the room was shrouded in darkness.

The dark was bad, but familiar. A bad sort of familiar. Which was why I clung to it and refused to turn the lights on despite the panic rising in my chest. I wanted something that reminded me of what the blanks in my mind would be full of, what they had been full of, and the panic was just a miniscule price to pay.

It was nothing more than a tightness to my skin and irregular breathing anyway.