A/N: This is an entry for the BizarreGenre contest made by CinnamonRoll78. The genre I have chosen is LyricBased, in which I try to show the lyrics of a clean song in the form of a short story. The song I have chosen is Devil Town, by Cavetown. Trigger warning for self-harm and mental illness. If this story is at all offensive to you, please let me know. I have tried to portray the characters well, but as I do not have any mental illness, I may have made a mistake that some might find offensive. Anyway, now on to the actual story. I recommend listening to the song at the same time.

We're sitting on my bed, sharing my earbuds—you take the left ear, I take the right. I don't tell you that the right bud is broken. Some things you don't have to know.

The room is bare, off-white paint that's been chipping probably forever. It's hardly furnished, just the squeaky, uncomfortable bed. I remind myself that it's alright—we're safe here. I can finally breathe. I can forget about the images haunting me.

But I can't. It flashes through my mind again, the brand-new red car sitting in our driveway the night before I came here. I saw it all through my window: Daddy pulling up in the driver's seat, coming inside. I heard Mom's screams, her fury. Five minutes after he came, Daddy was gone again, taking the car with him. I never saw either again.

An odd calm passes over me, and I realize that I never want to move. I just want to stay here, where no one will catch us.

Your eyes are closed, and your hands are clenched into fists. All of a sudden, you jump, as a burst of music surprises you.

We look at one another for a second. Your eyes have slivers of silver in them.

You turn up the volume and your eyes close.

This morning, you said something dumb again. You said this will never last. You're scared of good things, I think. But I snapped, yelling like Mom did when she was mad. At least, that's what they said I did, whispering in my ears long after it happened. That's when I started to cry.

I used to draw a lot. I drew families. Mom, Daddy, and then the kid. I drew it with pen on paper. They sat me down one day and I still remember how the devils whispered, "Mom and Daddy aren't in love." I drew on my skin, scribbling like mad. Sometimes with a pen, still. Sometimes with a knife. I knew what would happen. My life would become her house, his house, two birthdays. That's fine, I told myself. But it wasn't.

The knife was cold against my skin on those lonely summer days. Like ice, and the curtains were closed against the sun. It was just me, alone in my room with the devils in my head.

The day before I came here, Daddy left with the red car and then I was screaming, a cacophony of devil voices singing in my head. Mom ran, and she yelled and told me to stop it but the devils were everywhere, yelling and murmuring and one of them was laughing and all I could do was scream until my throat was hoarse.

You grab my hand, now, here, and I realize I have tensed, breathing shallowly. Your nails have been bitten to tiny nubs, and my useless earbud falls out. Keep breathing, I tell myself. In, out. I look at you, and I make a promise. We'll make it another night.

Mom brought me here, and she said the nice doctors could help me. When she turned to leave I was screaming, grabbing her and crying like it was the first day of kindergarten. I've always been a little scared of new things.

Now I feel a little safer, because I met you and we are here together, enduring the off-white sheets that scratch our bare, unshaven legs. In another room someone is howling. I can feel the devils dragging me deeper inside of myself. I used to want to escape that feeling, but I told you that and you said it's not so bad if you let yourself fall.

When I met you, the first thing you said was, "We're all dead." The devils were still screaming in my head, and I thought you were probably right. I was scared then, but you told me it was fine. You said, "Nothing's gonna scare us now."

In·vin·ci·ble: too powerful to be defeated or overcome. You and I are invincible here, in Devil Town. It's easier like this. I'd rather be dead than alive, I think.

The worst things here are the food and the gowns. Scratchy, papery hospital gowns that go down to my knees, white and stripey, though yours is green and brown. I look at my bare shins. I need to shave my legs, but they won't give me a razor.

Yesterday I forgot my name again. I was crying and my throat was hoarse. I felt shaky, because what do I know if I can't remember who I am? I'm Alice in my own devilish version of Wonderland, wondering: Who am I?

Last night, you tiptoed to the door, where our shoes were. Mine are cheap, no-brand sneakers, practically falling apart. Yours are old, dirty black converse that I kind of want for myself. But you screamed when you saw them. You howled about spiders nesting inside. I've never been scared of bugs, so I looked to see. There was nothing there. But you were still sobbing, so I told you to leave them be.

That night, I put the converse under the bed, where monsters and nightmares go. I don't think you noticed they were gone.

It's colder here, and I still haven't figured out if it's because of the devils or the air conditioning. I have goosebumps under my gown. I'm scared, I think.

You grab my hand, tell me it's fine. I used to think you were so strong, do you know that? But that was before the spiders happened. Now I know you're just another devil, just like me, just like all of us who are dead here.

Dreams are swirling, strange, seductive. Last night I dreamt of the devils, and at first I wanted to leave. They hugged me tighter, and I shivered. But I could feel your presence there, and so I let them take me, because I know this: if it wasn't okay, I would hear you yelling. Together, we fell, me and the devils and you too, although you were invisible in the dream. We were falling deep, falling down, and falling didn't feel so bad because I knew you'd fallen that way too.

Then I heard dream-you whisper, "Devil Town is colder in the summertime."

We were sitting on a bed, at the bottom of an abyss, in my dream, silently losing our minds, but it was fine because you were there. There were devils everywhere but you were a shield, and they couldn't pass you. I felt numb, and scared. I wanted to go back, but I was with you, even though we were both dead or had at least lost our minds.

It's fine now, in real life. I'm calm, you're calm, the spiders are invisible, the devils only whisper, your monster hides under the bed, and a red car drives through my dreams.

I think I'm going insane, but it's okay. I know you've fallen this way too.

You sit up, here in the real world. The song ended. It's fine. We're fine.

That's fine.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Again, if you have any problem with the story, please let me know. Have a great day!

04/24/2020 Update: yay I won!