Pessimistic [Completed]

15

The days had been passing with no sign of stopping, as June melted from July to August. Pico was the happiest he'd been, but something was happening to him.

He wore sweaters in the sticky heat to cover up his arm. The skin was a deep black from his fingertips to his shoulder, and he couldnt feel anything. He'd barely played any attention to it. It's not like he could feel his arm anyways, it was completly numb.

It was probably normal. It would go back to normal soon.

He hoped so, at least.

It didnt matter to him that much though. He was focused on others, specifically Keith.

He was still shocked that he and Keith were dating.

Everytime he saw him, he couldn't help but smile.

He was trying to better himself for him. For one thing, he was trying to be nicer to Darnell. He really didn't need to be such an asshole to him. What happened was a decade ago.

Pico woke up in the middle of the night to hear someone whispering. His room was dimly lit, moonlight seeping in through his blinds.

He rubbed sleep out of his eyes, and went to close them. The whispering ceased almost immediately, panic shooting through him for a moment before subsiding.

He glanced out before shutting the curtains.

The blue light dissapeared from the room, leaving it dark.

Pico felt his way back to his bed, pulling his covers over him.

He tried to sleep for a while, staring into darkness.

He wasn't tired anymore. His head was filled with thoughts. Not... not good thoughts.

He really didn't deserve the treatment he was recieving from his friends, did he? He wasn't that good of a friend to them. He didn't give something back to them.

He especially didn't deserve Keith. He was such an amazing person. He couldn't think of anything wrong with him, even if he tried.

He felt as if someone was whispering in his ear. These thoughts didn't seem like his. He just needed to ignore them.

He turned over, trying to clear his head.

Pico walked downstairs the next morning, tired. The morbid feeling of last nights thinking still hung around in his head, but something shoved them out.

There was a girl in the living room. She had crimson hair that stood up tall. Her skin was rosy, her eyes a catlike yellow. A leather jacket was tied around her waist, semi-covering her dark jeans and red t-shirt.

Before he could stop himself, he yelled "What the fuck is she doing here?!" A tone of panic filled his voice.

Nene rolled her eyes. "Its not as bad as you think, just let me explain."

"THERES A MURDERER IN YOUR LIVING ROOM!"

"Everyone in this room has killed someone."

Pico glanced around. Keith must have left for work a while ago. "That's still not an excuse for her to be here!"

The woman looked alarmed by him, but he didn't care.

"The 'excuse' for her to be here is because I invited her."

"You fucking what?!"

"I invited her. I invited Cassandra into my house, which I am allowed to do without your permission because it is my house, not yours."

"ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?!"

"A little bit, yes." Nene stared at him, unwavering.
"Calm down, you're gonna get rabies foam all over the carpet."

Pico was calm though. As calm as he could be with her in here, at least. She was just lucky he didn't have his gun (which had been missing for a week or so).

"If you'll let me explain what happened-"

"I don't want to hear pathetic excuses."

"Its not a 'pathetic excuse', it's an explanation." Pico crossed his arms as she spoke. "She was possessed by an alien."

"How the fuck does that work?"

"She was-"

"I'd like to hear it from her and see if the bullshit she told you is the same the second time around."

Cassandra stared at the floor. "I'd rather forget about it."

"Pico, just leave her alone, she wasn't in control of herself."

Pico scoffed. "You're really going to side for this bitch?"

"If this happened to Keith, wouldn't you side for him?"

"This doesn't have anything to do with Keith."

"Would you?"

Pico stood there in silence for a while, staring at Nene.

"I guess so."

"Then why can't you just forgive her?"

"Its different."

"Why do you hate her so much, it wasn't her fault?"

"Why don't you hate her? I don't understand you at all."

"You did horrible things too, yet I don't hate you."

"You don't have any idea how much I doubt that." Pico stormed out of the house without a second though, leaving Nene shocked.

He walked aimlessly into a nearby alleyway. It was the same one he found the lemon in.

He hid behind a dumpster, practically falling. His fingers dug into his arms, causing him to wince in pain.

Tears came to his eyes. Why was he crying? He wasn't supposed to cry.

He bit down on his lip, tasting blood. His vision was blurry as tears rolled down his cheeks. He throat began to sting as his breathing got harsher.

He sat there for a while, trying to calm down. His breath shuddered violently.

"Its o-okay." He said, his voice still strained. "It's nothing. Nothing. Perfectly fine. It's just stress. I'm stressed. Why am I stressed? I shouldn't be stressed."

He let go of his arms. He pulled up his sleeves to check on them. There were visible dents from his nails.

He wasn't going back anytime soon.

Maybe he should run away, and never come back. He wouldn't have to worry about anyone's feeling.

He stood up, quite off balance. He feel backwards, hitting his head on the concrete wall.
I deserved that, he thought. He turned around, looking at the wall. I deserve that.

He stumbled back to Nene's house at sunset, refusing to stay out any longer, mostly out of fear. His head was pounding, but he deserved it.

Shits getting edgy
My motivation is dying