𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 (FNaF College) (Book 2 of 3)

Chapter 2

===Foxy's POV===

Life has become so meaningless to me. Every day just reminds me of what I've lost. The part of me that I have longed for for so long. The one good part of me. The only good part of me. I drove her away, because of what I did. Because of the blood that is on my hands. Even if it was to protect her I can never forgive myself for what I did.

Tired, colorless, dead eyes open to a blank room. Nothing hangs on the walls, except for a set of curtains that keeps any and all light from entering. I live in this darkness, in this despair. This is what I deserve. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, setting them against the cold wooden floor of my bedroom, and grab my phone from its place on my desk. I unlock it and go to my voicemails. There in the memory banks of my phone sits a single saved voicemail. My finger hovers over the surface of the screen and I debate with myself if I listen to it again. If I dare to put myself through this pain again. The answer is always yes, subject yourself to the torment you deserve. Drive yourself insane. Drive yourself to the edge of a breakdown, and then come back to live it all over again.
I press on the voicemail and hold the phone up to my ear. Dying a little more inside as her voice talks to me,

Hi Foxy...I guess you don't need me to tell you who it is. I... I just don't know what to say. I want to be angry. I want to hate you. I want to be done with you. I want to erase everything you ever said. I want so badly to forget you and move on because this hurts so much. I guess that I wanted to say that I'm still in love with you. I think I always will be, and for that, I want to hate you so much. But I know I never can.

The message ends and I'm left in silence. Tears roll down my face at the mention of her wanting to hate me. I wish she would. I wish should realize what I am and get as far away from me as possible. But she followed me. She followed me to this place because she can't let go of me. I want her to. I want her to go away. I want her to live the life she was meant to, without me in it. It's all so fucking frustrating.
I sigh and finally stand up for the first time this morning. My legs feel weak and tired, but I still walk over to where I keep my jacket. I rummage around in the pockets for a minute before I pull out a small box and walk over to my window, drawing back the curtain and opening it. The cool fresh air rushes past me as I open the small box and pull out the second to last cigarette that I have as well as a lighter. Casually I put the cigarette in between my lips and light the end, drawing in air and watching as the end of it glows a fiery orange. The taste of the smoke tastes of tar and chemicals, but I never really cared. Everyone in the house hates that I do this, but they never say anything. Not that it would make me quit if they did. It's a disgusting habit... but it's honestly the only thing that keeps me sane now.

"Hey, Foxy?" A few knocks follow Bonnie's voice, calling into the room, "Hey man are you up? We need to get going so we can set up for the party tonight." He says, turning the doorknob and cracking the door just a little. Enough to see me up and smoking out of my window. He lets out a heavy sigh, pushing his way into the room. I don't turn to look at him but still, address him.

"I'll be ready. Just leave me be." I say a little harsher than I meant, but Bonnie seems to get it, backing slowly out of the room. I turn my attention back to the cigarette in between my fingers, watching with a bored interest as smoke emits from the end. Once again I place the cigarette to my lips, inhaling once more before putting it out and blowing the last fume of smoke out the window.

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The smells of burning alcohol and the sounds of noisy drunks flood my senses as well as the taste of bourbon as it burns down my throat. It's such an infectious disease they all possess. I find myself thinking as I watch them all down drink after drink. As they drown in their own self-indulgence. I partake in their ritual, but I am nothing like them.
As I'm lost in my thoughts until a hand lands itself on my shoulder. It doesn't make me jump but rather, sigh a heavy groan as I polish off my drink, setting the empty glass on the counter, and following Bonnie backstage of the bar. Freddy and Chica are already back there, Chica on one of the couches while Freddy paces back and forth nervously.