couldn't remember how long he'd been here..if he'd- if he'd ever even
things got.. fuzzy and confused ... a lot.. now..
Which was maybe good since he didn't like feeling things too sharp anyways but that wasn't something you could avoid so why bother thinking about it anyways She was there of COURSE she was there, wasn't she always? no. But she was. And his hands were tied again, except they weren't, because he knew they weren't but they were because it felt like they were. And how things felt was always right. ….But that's not right either, he thinks to himself. And he gives up, because it's easier to just not think.
It felt better not to think at all anyways.. He tried to do that a lot.. It never worked. Too many thoughts, too many LOUD thoughts that weren't even his.
She came closer. He stayed still...nervously clenching his teeth, frozen by..whatever she was. Somehow, it seemed like..like she was..radiating.. no, that wasn't a good word.. Giving off this heat.. this....coldness.. like the kind of hot that was so hot that it froze. And he couldn't move an inch.
It got stronger as she reached for him with her..... arms.. sort of..moved like snakes toward him.. He could feel other things. They weren't important. Nothing else was important. N O N E of this was IMPORTANT Shouldn't be here.
A cringe and a subconscious whimper at the cold burning of her 'hands' against his shoulder, against his head.. it felt like they would burn right through his skin and hair and clothes and rip his skeleton out with no mercy..
But still he didn't dare move, as her...tail?...a sort of.. stinger?...as the.... thing.. came closer to his head.. Even before it touched him, he could feel how it could sink right through his disgusting flesh and bone and end everything. As much as he wanted that, he..couldn't let it happen...
Finally, he forced a word- more than a word - out through his disgusting, pale lips.
“... I-I-Issit g-gonna hurt?” It came out in a voice far too small...far too childish to be his own voice, and the stuttering betrayed his attempt at sounding calm..
By the smug amusement in her expression it was obvious that she wanted him to say more..
But to display his weakness like that.... it was bad enough that anyone could see him.. but To let them hear him too?.. And.. and that DISGUSTING fucking whining bitchy SQUEALING that passed as a voice?!, with the Pathetic. Fucking. STUTTERING?!!
…no.. calm down.
She frowned in disappointment for a split second, and the expression she gave immediately became the same, 'comforting' warm smile
“Would I ever hurt you, Sweetheart?”
He was on the ground.
He was face down on the ground, his arms held tightly to his chest underneath him, and his stomach was going to implode at any second, and his head was crawling with noises and it felt so much like there were things inside of it, things with a billion legs, all burrowing through. ...it wasn't dark anymore..
There was a noise..
GOD DAMN IT HIS FUCKING HEAD it hurts......it hurts...real bad, it hurts.. He forces himself up, sitting.. but barely can..
He wants to puke, but his stomach is weak..He's ALWAYS too weak.. always was. ... his head hurtssss Wants to eat.. wants to eat everything.. anything.. and he looks up.. The sounds.. the chirping... there are birds somewhere on the rooftops.
He feels the side of his head.. his hand coming back wet and sticky with thin brownish red.. and he stares up again, even though it hurts his eyes so bad..having to squint to see the light. He can feel tears coming.. wants food..sick of hurting...doesn't like this..too bright..Hurts. Hungry....
and it clicks..all clicks into place.
He.... Had tried to climb up there....to reach the nest.. to eat something..Meat that wasn't rotten and crawling with little baby flies...eat something that wasn't going to make him feel sick and disgusting.. He fell... He ... fell.. A moments pause.. He stands and pulls his head into his Jacket, like a turtle. He doesn't wanna kill anymore... He doesn't want to eat these living things... these..baby animals.. the mice, and birds and... and the maggots that get into the things in the garbage.. even those were babies..
He doesn't wanna keep doing this...
Where was Kura..? If she was still here.. IF HE HADN'T RUN AWAY FROM HER LIKE A FUCKING IDIOT she could help him.... She wasn't afraid of... of.. going near the people, or taking someone's money, or taking food from the vendors, or, or... If she was... ... if.....
things got.. fuzzy and confused ...
It's been too long since I've done anything pertaining to this story. This isn't a planned part of it or anything necessarily, but it fits into continuity.
So for anyone outside of my immediate group of friends, this is Vincent.. the Protagonist (I'd hate to say 'Good guy') of my little project with the working title Psychasthenia.
He's not the most stable, and he's not dealing well with homelessness in Yorshov (Their city) at all. And that probably sums this up as well as it can be summed up.
(I get the feeling that my narrating style is confusing and gimmicky..) As a sidenote- that ridiculous orange and grey outfit is from the hospital where he was institutionalized.
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