Are you insane like me?
Been in pain like me?
Bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me?
Just to pour that motherf*cker down the drain like me?
Would you use your water bill to dry the stain like me?
(Colin's p.o.v.)
I sighed, and leaned my head back against the wall. It was midnight, and all of my 'caretakers' were asleep. I massaged my temples, trying to disperse the headache that was causing my eyesight to blur at the edges slightly. I stood up, and crossed to the fridge on the other side of the room. I didn't need to eat, but I still could, and I liked to pretend like I was as normal as possible. I opened it up, and pulled out the bottle of champagne that I somehow managed to convince the 'caretakers' to let me have. I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous name that they insisted I call them, they didn't care for me at all. They just expected me to fall in line behind them, and obey them, whatever they said. I sighed, and walked back over to the corner of my room, opening the bottle as I went. I sat back down, careful to stay far enough away that none would splash on my skin. I slowly started to pour it out, flashing back, as I always did, to when I was a child. When I stole my father's alcohol, and poured it out, thinking that it would stop. The drinking, the cheating on my mother. The violence. But it didn't, and when he realised that it was me who did it...I shivered, and subconsciously rubbed my side, where the scar from my broken rib used to be. The scar wasn't there anymore, it disappeared when they "fixed me." After a few years here, I realised that it was somewhat therapeutic to pour out bottles of alcohol, as the time that I did that was the only time I had ever felt actually in control of my life.
Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?
Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?
Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me?
Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me?
Eventually, when I was about 17, I got tired of people talking about how I looked. I was considered "handsome," and nobody believed I would ever do anything productive. That I would end up like my father, just using my looks to get everything. I was determined to prove them wrong, I just wanted to show them that I could do something for myself. So when I saw an ad, searching for a subject to experiment on, when I saw that it would make me smarter, I didn't hesitate. But I was so, so wrong. They stripped me of everything that made me human, turning my tanned, soft skin into harder, gray material, my blue eyes into green and red, and my soft brown hair into wiry white strands. Oh, I got smarter, all right. All of the knowledge in the world, everything on the internet, for the low price of my humanity. They didn't even leave me with the option to die, leaving me stuck in this living hell forever. Everyday, I was hooked up to their machines, letting all of the information of their company flow through my head. I didn't even remember it, when, at the end of the day, they unhooked me and sent me back to my room. I didn't sleep, I couldn't sleep, so all I was left with was my thoughts, and a migraine that made me wish I could die. I felt like my entire life was swirling around me, so far out of my reach that I could never recover it, as if my very soul was falling apart at the seams.
And all the people say..
You can't wake up, this is not a dream!
You're part of a machine, you are not a human being!
With your face all lit up, living on a screen,
Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline.
I sat there until the morning, just waiting for the next faceless voice to summon me to the room where I would spend the rest of my day. However, it never came, and after about ten minutes, I got up, and crossed to the speaker on the wall, to check that it wasn't broken. However, just as I was about to press the button to speak to the other side, a voice crackles to life. But it wasn't the voice I was used to hearing. It was a male voice, midranged, not to low or high, and kind of nasally, though that might have just been the speaker. The voice was very melodic, as if the man speaking was about to start singing, which usually would have been annoying, but was somehow peaceful coming from this guy.
"Hey, Colin, sweetheart? Could you unlock your door? It's practically nuke proof, and it's kind of hard to rescue someone if you can't even get to them." I stumbled back from the speaker, my jaw hanging open, at both the fact that someone was trying to rescue me, and the fact that this person had called me...sweetheart? I hesitantly pressed the button, and answered back.
"Er, hi. Who are you, and how do you know my name?" I pulled my hand back, waiting for a response.
"Oh, well, it says your name right here on your file! And as for who I am..well, that's best explained face to face." I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. I crossed over to the door, and placed my hands on the wall, opening the doors electronically. They slid open silently, exposing a short, black haired teenager, with black antennae sticking out of their head, and golden wings on their back. His skin was a light blue color, and his eyes were glowing yellow, as mine did green and red. He was extremely adorable, even as I realized that his hands were coated in blood, with the red fluid spattered on his clothes as well. He grinned, and waved at me. "Hey! I'm Shrignold, and you're Colin, right? I hope so. Otherwise this would be really awkward." He chuckled, and rocked back and forth on his feet. I blinked, trying to wake up from whatever dream I was in. Not only was someone here to save me, but I was feeling something. I hadn't felt anything except for pain since I got here, and now my entire head was being bombarded with little notes of oh my gosh he's so cute and argh Colin, pull it together! This wasn't supposed to happen. I had been told, that I would be unable to feel any affection, that I was a machine now, not a person. I cleared my throat, and stepped out into the corridor with him.
"Hi, Shrignold. Yeah, I'm Colin. Now, back to my question. What are you doing here?"
Oh
I think there's a flaw in my code!
Oh
These voices won't leave me alone
Oh my heart is gold but my hands are cold
"Oh, nothing much. Just rescuing you from an eternity of suck, is all." He reached into the pocket of his navy blue pants, and the thoughts resumed in my head, telling me how adorable he was, and how I needed to stop being an asshole, and thank him.
"Thank you, by the way! I mean, for getting me out of here." I stumbled over my words, mentally slapping myself. He looked back up, holding a piece of paper.
"Huh? Oh, no problem. Now, let's see," he read over the paper, "it says here that you get headaches, correct?" I nodded, realizing that he must have my file. "Well," he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pair of glasses, "try these on. I think they might help." I skeptically glanced at them, but grabbed them anyway, pushing them on my face. Instantly, my vision cleared, and my head felt less strained.
"Oh my fucking God, thanks! These are great!" I grinned at him, but realised that he was frowning.
"Dont swear, Colin!" He turned, and walked away, looking over his shoulder at me, still pouting slightly. "Come on, darling, we don't want to be here when the police show up. And with the amount of blood I have on me, and the fact that we both kind of look like we just escaped from some messed up fandom, that would be a doubly bad idea." I frowned slightly, but nodded and followed him. I mentally reminded myself not to swear. I realized that there must be a glitch, somewhere, when they reprogrammed me. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to feel the way I am about Shrignold.
Are you deranged like me?
Are you strange like me?
Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?
Pointing fingers 'cause you'll never take the blame like me?
(Shrignold's p.o.v.)
I bit my lip as I walked, glancing back at Colin. The glasses really did suit him, and I wished that I was not covered in blood. I must look crazy to him! He was about half a foot taller than me, and a whole lot more handsome. I rubbed my slightly rounded cheeks, pouting, and shoved his file deeper into my pocket, slowing down so that he could catch up, though with his long legs, he probably could outpace me easily. I had read that he didn't like being touched, and I made a mental note to test that later. I looked up at him, grinning to show him that I wasn't really mad.
"So, does burning this place to the ground sound good to you?" He looked shocked for a moment, before smirking slightly. My smile faltered for a second, because holy Malcolm, that was hot.
"Sure, why not? Sounds perfect, darling," he said, copying my endearment from earlier. I blushed slightly, and bit my lip again, bouncing slightly.
"Well then, we better get going, shouldn't we?" Colin ran a hand through his hair, and grinned, hesitating before ruffling my hair slightly.
"Come on, Shrignold, we've got work to do." We walked out of the building, leaving behind nothing but memories and bodies.
(Ok so omfg that is not how that was going to go at all, but then it did. Go that way, I mean. Erm, so yeah, sorry if that sucked. I feel like the beginning was ok, but the middle and end.... well, anyway, that was that! Tell me what you thought!)
