Italics- thoughts/ flashbacks/ dreams
Bold- author talking
Underline- narrator talking, known as the main character
Normal- normal story

2630 words

ꨄ❦ꨄ❦ꨄ➪

Something is moving up and down the side of my thigh wakes me up in the morning sun lit room.

After a second I realize what it is, where I am and what's happening. Nothing is happening besides sleep being ruined.

But at least I know I wasn't kidnapped…

…I think.

The kidnaper is rude as fuck for ruining my sleep.

I turn over the top half of me because in front of me is the wall. I see one of very few people that I like out of the human race.

“Well hello,” he says.

“Why’d you wake me up?”

He puts his hand under me and turns me over to face him, “that wasn’t my plan.”

“What was your plan?”

“Once I find it I will tell you.”

“Thanks for thinking about me.”

“I’m always thinking about you.”

“Weirdo.”

“You are not one to talk.”

"Okay.” I think I lived the wrong way all night because everything hurts suddenly. “I’m dyyyyingggggg.”

He puts his hand on my forehead, “No you’re not.”

“I feel like I’m dying,” I dramatically say and roll onto my back in agonizing pain.

He turns onto his back and pulls me onto him. He then drags his hands up and down my back with slight pressure before cracking certain spots.

“Does that help?”

“Somewhat.”

I gotta get him to purr cuz that helps a lot for some reason. I draw random patterns up and down his arm. After a few seconds I feel it so I put my hands under his back as much as I can and attempt to sleep. Sleep and the broken pur fixes everything.

ꨄ❦ꨄ❦ꨄ➪

Everything is darker than night itself. No sounds anywhere, a single candle 5 feet away. The candle gets closer then farther. The dark doesn’t seem to end. The farther the candle gets, the dark grows.

Soon the candle is only a small beige dot far far away. I walk to it since it is the only light in this strange, silent place. There is no one else either and I can only be seen in the light’s presence.

There is a crack somewhere around me. Soon there are chains around my feet shackling me to this one spot. No other noise happens for some time.

Some blurry figure of average height appears next to the candle, opposite from me.

“Who are you?”  Hearing my voice as the only sound is unusual. Even chains won’t make a noise.

The blurry figure walks around the candle to me. There are no features, no distinguishable colors. Every part blended to create an irregular humanoid figure. The figure lifts their deformed hand to my face.

The figure’s deformed hand comes within view. Only the candle and figure have color.

Not a sound to be heard or feeling to be felt. The figure moves slowly. I try to give them a high five so something will happen but instead blood falls from my palm. There is no pain to be felt, only a sight to be seen.

There is another crack but this time under the chains. The chains still don’t make a sound. Ventablack still goes on forever. The colorful figure stomps the ground.

A chain reaction of cracks fills the silence till there are no more. None of the cracks can be seen, was it just a sound? A strange sound to occur. The figure takes my arms and squeezes them till they hurt. No voice comes out of me, no way of telling them to stop.

Suddenly the black falls apart and there is no weight to be felt. Every seeable thing rises till there is only black. The colorful thing screeches in an inhumane way and throws something sharp at me but it misses. I keep falling.

Everything is hot, too hot. I can’t breathe or think. I sit up and look around the room so confused. Everything is so bright I'm blinded for a minute.

Why did I land here? How can I think now? I look around the room and see death beside me on the bed.

"When did you get here? And I can talk now?"

He props himself in his elbows, "what are you going on about?"

I turn around to face him, and prevent future pain. "The candle and dark and the colorful thing. Do you not know?"

"No? You were dreaming."

"But I felt it all."

"You have been asleep."

"No, no, no. Everything was real. The chains and the candle and the forever darkness and the colorful thing and the cut and the cracks and the floor collapsing. It was all real."

He drags his knuckles over my leg, "unless you have gained the ability to astral project in other universes, it was a dream."

"But it was horrifying."

"Then it was a nightmare."

I look around the room and at my hand which has no sign of a cut. There isn't even a hole in the ceiling.

"Are you sure?"

He leans his head to the side and looks me dead in the eyes, "does any of it seem like it would actually happen?"

"Well I met you and fucking met Lucifer and saw demons and hell and shit. Anything can happen."

He sits up and leans against the wall so we're about the same height."That's true but tell me what happened."

"I was in this big ol' black soundless space and there was only one candle, a wax one and I could only see the candle and myself if I was right by it, close enough to feel its little fire. And then these chains appeared on my feet and then this colorful personish thing appeared and walked to me. The thing walked in front of me and I ended up getting cut by it somehow. Then there were buncha crack noises and the color person made the floor collapse. I ended up here."

He looks at me for half a minute and it makes me sorta nervous. I be getting nervous over everything.

Wimp.

"That doesn't happen. It was only a nightmare."

"Well that's really nice of my brain. Just what I needed," I say with the most disappointed and hate filled sarcasm.

I can't even sleep peacefully now. This holiday has been so amazing and it's only been a day, a long week to come.

"A dream shouldn't ruin your day."

"The dream isn't the only thing…" I mutter.

"What else is bothering you?"

“Everything."

He runs his fingers through my messy bed ridden hair that will be very fun to brush out later.

"That isn't a good answer, γλυκιά μου."

"I know…"

I've accepted all the random names in different languages that I don't understand. He could be insulting me so horribly and there would be no way to know.

"What's really bothering you? What's been bothering you?"

I look at the bed sheets in thought. Half are trying to figure out what is bothering me and the other half is blaming my back pain for everything.

I'm bad at this shit. Hopefully my ability to aimlessly ramble will help.

"I just feel so lonely, like I know I'm not but barely anyone talks to me. The very few people I talk to act like I talk too much. And I feel so trapped in lies and broken promises that rusted my heart years ago. No one can be honest. No one can take responsibility or grow up. Everything is worthless and I only wanna stay in bed forever. I hate everything and it annoys me so it makes me hate myself. Nothing ever works right.

I'm such a failure and people act like I'm not just to make sure I don't burst. No one cares and they never will. They only expect more and more when they can't meet their expectations. People that are supposed to care hide behind masks of fake love and act like they never did anything wrong. Act like they're perfect and I'm the only messed up one.

People are so selfish and don't care about what they do to others. They destroy people and don't have the decency to get better in the process. They don't pay attention the way they want people to pay attention to them... I don't know what to do anymore and everything is ruined."

A comb appears in his hand and he starts brushing my hair. “You are not a failure and people do love you. Things will work out, not everything is over.”

“It feels like it is and I don’t deserve anyone's love.”

“Why not?”

“I’m a failure and let everyone down.”

“Who have you let down?”

“The family.”

“You do not bear the responsibility to do what they want you to do. Live your life as yours, they had their chance. Don’t give them the opportunity to take yours.”

“I have to make everyone happy though, they’ve done so much for me.”

“Keeping you alive is the bare minimum. You can make them happy if you want but it shouldn’t cost your mental health. Nothing should. You are a beautiful person and deserve love.”

I look around the room in thoughts. I want to believe him but it’s so hard. People tell me all these nice things but it doesn’t matter when the only ones I look up to say otherwise. Over and over the same things, reminding me what I should do but never saying how to do it. Stupid expectations that are meaningless.

“Your hair is perfect,” he mutters under his breath.

I turn to see him, “Your hair is great too.” I pat him on the head and he looks at me weird before turning me around so my back is to him.

“I’m charging you 30 dollars,” he says.

“For what?”

“Fixing your hair.”

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“Yes you did, you just didn’t know you did.”

“I left my wallet at your house, I can’t pay you.”

He pauses, “Since when did you have a wallet?”

“Since now.”

He goes back to doing whatever he was doing, "the cost is still 30 dollars."

"What are you doing to my hair?"

If it's reasonable then I'll pay.

"Cutting it all off."

My heart stops. "Don't do that."

"And why not?"

I turn to face him, he looks like I just ruined something but doesn't say anything. They never do. "I've been letting it grow for 11 years."

He smiles and turns me back around, "it was a joke. Now let me braid your hair without you moving."

"What type?"

"Layered french braid."

"Which one is that?" Remembering names is impossible.

"Like normal french braids but overlapping."

"That's possible?"

"Yes."

"How long will it take?"

"I don't know. It's been a while."

"How long?"

He gives me some hair to hold and stays quiet for a second in thought.

He actually stays longer than I expected. I get concerned but he answers while taking the hair I was holding back.

"About 300… anddd… 72 years."

I stop functioning for a second. "372 years?!"

"Yes."

"You are so old! Oh my gawwd," I squeak.

I'ma mouse.

"How old do you expect me to be?"

"I dunno, 30?"

He starts laughing like that was the craziest thing he ever heard. I turned to look at him, "what's so funny?"

He turns me back around and regains his existence. "Have you never read the bible? How am I 30?"

"I never really thought about it before. I have no idea how old you are."

"You never will either."

"So you're not 372?"

"Nope."

"You don't have to gatekeep, you know."

He puts his hand on my head and makes me face in some way, "stay still. And hold this," he gives me some hair.

"Ok. How long is this gonna take? Oh wait, I already asked that."

He takes the hair from my hand, “Lean forward.”

I do that. “Why is it so quiet? Is everyone still asleep? What time is it?”

“It’s 12:13 and your sister, grandma and mom went to Morris,  your dad is outside."

“You let me sleep past noon?”

“Was I not supposed to?”

“No but I didn’t tell you either. Tomorrow don’t let me sleep past 11:58.”

“Alright.”

They didn’t ask me if I wanted to go, of course I would say no but it would have been nice if they asked.

“I don’t know what to do,” I told him.

“With?”

“My future.”

“Do what you want.”

“But I don’t know what I want.”

“You will figure it out.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then do a little of everything.”

“Okay.”

I tap the tops on my nails together because it’s fun.

And I'm bored.

And shit still hurts for no damn reason. Maybe i'm an old person and no one told me my actual age.

“How old am I?”

“23.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wouldn’t you know your own age?”

“I gotta make sure I wasn’t lied to.”

“Why would you be lied to?”

“I don’t know but I should be too young to be hurting like a 90 year old.”

“Anyone of any age can be in pain.”

“Well yea but this is ridiculous.”

“You were also in 2 life ending car crashes.”

“Is that a good enough reason?”

“Yes. Now please stay still for your love of god.”

“Sorry.”

He goes back to braiding my hair.

"When do you want the 30 dollars?"

"I don't."

"Then why did you say you did?"

"I'll tell you that reason too after I find it."

"Thanks. And when did they leave and where did they go?"

"Sam's club about 15 minutes before you woke up."

"Before you woke me up."

"If you say so."

"I do."

.
..
…
….
…..

Gracie walks down the hallway and looks at me from the doorframe and wags her tail.

"Hello Gracieeee," I squeal to her, "come hereeee."

She wags her tail more and wobbles into the room. She stands in front of me and puts her little face on the edge of the bed.

I violently rub her ears because she loves it.

“I think she’s a fox.”

He leans beside me to look at her and looks at me like I’m crazy, “why?”

“She smiles like one.” I scratch her head some more to further prove my point because she ends up smiling like a fox.

He goes back to braiding my hair.

"Get on here Gracie." I pat the bed for her.

The bed is taller than her.

And she's too fat to jump.

But there's still a possibility.

"Gracie get on the bed and I'll buy you all the dog cookies in the world."

She starts whining and lifting her foot as high as she can to the bed.

"How will you buy all the dog cookies in the world when you can't afford anything?"

I scoffeth, "I can but you keep buying everything and won't let me."

"I don't stop you from doing anything."

I turn around to face him and my back dies again. Ow. "You do."

"Apparently not, you won't stop moving like I told you."

"Oh yea." I turn back around to the doggie who is sniffing everything, mainly his big ass feet. "How much longer? This is taking forever."

"It's been 20 minutes."

"You're taking too long."

"If you didn't have such long, coarse and thick hair this would have been faster."

"It's okay, you will be fine."

He leans against the wall. His hands leave my hair and fall to his side, "You were the one complaining."

"Nah. It was all you."

He wraps his arms around me so my back is against his chest and he crosses his legs so now I'm stuck. Gracie walks to the closet and sniffs the few things before waddling out of the room.

“She left.”

“She didn’t want to get falsely blamed,” he says and puts his nose in my hair.