Tick tock

*~6~*

"After a while, the witty sense of humour that you have has become quite... funny." Clockwork remarked.
"Well that's interesting."
I brought my knees
up to my chest and hugged them
tightly.
"What do you mean?" She inquired,
starting to pick at the stitches
on the side of her mouth.
"Well I j-just mean that the fact that you like my sense of humour is interesting in a way,"
I explained.
"People usually don't get it and think I'm trying to criticize them."
I muttered, looking down at the lump in my blanket that just happened to be my sketchbook and pencil.

"Well..."
she began, her clock ticking in all the moments of silence that she produced while thinking.
"People just really suck... honestly if the world were just filled with actual good people and not just plain bitches who walk around and think that society shouldn't change just because it benefits people like them; I probably wouldn't have become what I am today." She sighed.

To be honest, I was a little taken aback by her answer... feeling a twinge of sympathy for the sadistic killer and all that gooey shit.

"Yeah, your right. Man, I just kinda wish that humans were replaced with animals because, let's face it, we're all bitches." I remarked, my lips twitching into a smirk.

Clockwork let out a slight chuckle, pointing her knife at me and wiggling it.
"Maybe there should be more people like you in the world. Like I said, you're a pain in the ass... but I think I could probably survive in a world where everyone's Jamie."
Her face softened as she gave me a genuine smile.
I returned the smile, finally relaxing in my spot.

Dude, what are you doing? She's a fucking killer! You can't relax around her! She took you away from your home and forcefully cut all your hair off. Stop. It.

I tensed up at the thought, my smile fading away as I looked down.

"You o-" "Weren't you supposed to get me that medicine?" I cut her off coldly.

I looked up to see a perplexed look on the killers face. "Oh... ok, fine." She replied expressionlessly, leaving the room and slamming the door shut behind her. I winced at the sound.

I let out a sigh, flopping on the uncomfortable mattress.

Why? Why would I do that?
Why would I have a conversation with a killer?!
I mean, she was giving me a break and being nice to me...
but still.

I turned on my side, clutching the somewhat soft blanket and holding it tightly against my chest.

I spent the rest of the day in my room, sketching in my sketchbook. Clockwork was out... but I really didn't want to adventure around the cottage in case of cursing my eyes with the sight of a dead body. So far, the only thing I drew was Clockwork, for some apparent reason.
I tried to draw something else but the only thing that was
stuck in my head was the killer and
her cold gaze.
The fact that I was thinking about her wasn't in a way
that showed that I had any
affection towards her
but more in a way like she was haunting me.
Of course the drawing was kinda trashy... but it wasn't like anyone was going to look at it.

A sharp pain shot through my stomach making me wince.
Well now I'm really hungry... but I can't eat.
Every time I tried to eat for the past week all I did was throw it up.

Maybe if I at least tried eating, I won't throw up this time.

I got up from my bed and made my way through the twisted dark halls, all the way to the kitchen; sniffling every few seconds.
I paused at the entrance of the kitchen, realizing that I don't even know where the food is.
Heh, well that's just gre-