Absent

Twenty Eight

Blood/gore waning(don't really know. Careful if it makes you sick, 'Kay?)
The morning came all too soon.

"Good morning!" She sang, forcing both Tuesday and I out of sleep. Anyone that was that perky in the morning should be stabbed.

She unleashed us then opened the cages, first Tuesday's then mine. Both of us just kind of sat there, watching her.

"Well! Come on, then!" She waved at us to come closer and we did. She reached forward and patted our heads, uttering praises.

Then her hand tightened against Tuesday's hair and yanked a handful out, making him cry out. The moment I went to move to his side, she pulled out that damn collar remote. I had no doubt in my mind that she would press it, but make it last longer this time.

I stopped, staring at her with a hate burning in my chest. Never had I hated anyone more.

Still gripping the hair, she walked over to a...cauldron? That was the best way to describe it. It was a large black pot. Them she picked it up and looked at us. "Come along. Come along." She said then left the room. I immediately hugged Tuesday as we followed her, trying to supply some comfort to him.

I knew it wouldn't be much. Neither of us could tell the other it would be okay. Because we didn't know. We don't know that it would, and neither of us had hope. I knew that light of hope was gone from my eyes, and I saw it extinguish in Tuesday the moment we lost Wednesday.

"This won't be forever." I promised. It couldn't, could it? I would hate it, stuck here, in this life, until I wasn't living anymore.

Dying. That was the only way I could see to get out of here. But I wouldn't. Not unless Tuesday went first. I refused to leave him alone. I know what it was like, trying to survive this alone. As long as he was still alive, I would be too.

I watched as she put whatever it was she was carrying onto a very large stove burner. Turning it on, she sat there for a second, before she turned around and looked at me.

"Approach." She ordered, smiling like one might expect a grandmother to. I did as told, moving towards her. The moment I was close enough, she grabbed my arm and pulled it towards her. From somewhere within that gaudy outfit she was wearing, she produced a knife.

"We are going to try 'Bloodletting'." She said as she pressed it to where I still had puckered scars from the Wilford's. I couldn't help but look at her. I knew what bloodletting was. I wasn't sick, why the hell was she bloodletting?

Before I could react, she slid the knife across my skin, creating a deep cut. I hissed in pain as blood started to slid down my arm, dripping in puddles to the ground, collecting quickly. She cut deep.

I stared at the blood. Somehow, with the pain on my wrist, everything else just kind of faded into the background, muting. I almost didn't realized she dropped that one and grabbed my other one. I couldn't take my eyes away she she repeated.

The she ordered me to hold my extremities over the pot. I did as she asked, watching as the blood fell onto the mousey locks of hair. I let it drip until my vision blurred and my head felt fuzzy.

My fingers felt like they did when you cut of circulation. This fact made me chuckle. If felt like the circulation was cut off, but there was still blood pulsing out of the cuts on my wrists.

Then my legs failed. I blinked rapidly, fighting back the blackening of my vision, as I landed on the ground, arms held to my chest. The cuts stung fiercely at first, and now, like everything else, was faded and dull.

Then non-existent. My eyes shut and I felt myself tumbling through my mind, free falling into what ever pit my head opened as I fell unconsciousness.

What could have been seconds or years later, I managed to come to. I was laying in my cage, chained, with Tuesday looking at me through the bars of his, eyes wide.

"Oh thank god!" He said, and I heard the smuggle as he swiped the back of his hand across his nose. "I thought-" He stopped. "I thought you were dying." He looked away. "There was just so much blood. Your arms were covered, and the floor was covered, and your clothes were covered, and...and...and..." He stopped, looking down at his lap.

As I began to pull myself up a little, to lean on my elbow, to allow me to reach through to grab his hand, I heard him whisper. "Quite pulling shit like that."

I stared at him, then laughed, my eyes scrunching up.

"Why the fuck are you laughing?!" He growled as me as I felt tears fall down my cheeks as I laughed.

"Oh. Tuesday." My laughs faded to chuckles and I opened my eyes to look at him. "You are just too funny for your own good." I gripped his hand, then dropped back down onto my back. I moved my wrist and hissed. Picking it up, I looked at it. My wrist was wrapped expertly in gauze and the cast like bandage. The white gauze was splotxhed with the brown red color of dried blood.

"How long have I been out?" I asked. Couldn't have been the whole day. There was no way.

"Two-three hours, about. She locked us both back up after you passed out." He shook his head. "She is insane. The whole time she was 'patching you up', she was talking about if boiling the hair with blood would do anything different to it than the water did." He shuddered. "She didn't care you almost died. Well, she did because she would have lost an Experiment."

I just stared is shock.

But Had it been a few months later, I would not have been shocked. Six months. That's how long I was here. There were very, very few days that stuck out to with as much clarity as my last day.

~°~
Yay for updates. I know, all of these writers update one a week, and here I am, apologizing for the lack of updates for two days.

3 years, 4 months

Two more chapters. Then Absent will end.

-Scomiche❤🍓❤