Blurryface meets Cry Baby

Looking

Blurry watched it happen.

He watched some young blonde woman brutally stab the bodies of another woman and a man.

He watched their terrified expressions and her merciless look.

He watched her horrified expression after she realized it was too late to erase what she had done.

He watched her lay the bodies on their backs, and place a white sheet over the breathless beings.

What hurt the most, was that he watched Cry Baby enter the room, a sleepy but alert look in her eyes. Blurry wished he could have grabbed her attention as she walked over to the sheet on the kitchen floor.

He watched the woman grab Cry Baby and force a cloth over her mouth, and Cry Baby fell into her arms, unconscious.

As the unexplainably awful events flashed before Blurry's wide and scared eyes, he realized what Cry Baby meant when she said she came from a hopelessly broken home. He shot off into a furious sprint, and wondered why it was that the house that intrigued him beyond explanation, belonged to the girl that intrigued him just the same.

   He spent that night without any sleep, pondering whether or not he dared to go to Cry Baby's house to comfort her.

   But how could he help? He wasn't very comforting.

   He thought back to Cry Baby's mother's expression as she aggressively held the poisoned cloth to Cry Baby's lips. She looked so genuinely sorry. Even though she did a monstrous thing, she looked mortified, so guilty that she had hurt her daughter in that way.

   Blurry had no interest in trying to relate to a ruthless murderer, but how couldn't he? He knew what it was like to do something terrible, and feel sorry for it. He knew that it actually happened.

   Furthermore, wasn't Blurryface a murderer too? No, he was not a first degree murderer, but he knew what it was like to be traumatized by something that you had done.

   This was why, when Blurry found himself trudging out the door and down the path and through Cry Baby's neighborhood, he was not afraid when her mother answered the door. If anything, she looked nervous.

   With bags under her eyes, and trembling hands that matched her voice, she asked frailly, "What do you need?"

   "Um... Is Cry Baby here?"

   The woman's eyes widened, and her demeanor became more fidgety and worried.

   "N-no. M-m-may I ask why you must see her?"

  Blurry scanned his brain for a fast, somewhat believable answer.

   "I... I'm in her class and wanted to um... study with her."

   "Oh." She muttered rawly. "Well, I'm t-te-terribly sorry," Blurry noted the pain in her voice when she said those words, "but, she went out for a walk. Thank you for s-stopping by. Goodbye." The two said their farewells in a rush, and Cry Baby's mom practically slammed the door in Blurry's face.

   Blurry, of course, didn't believe the woman at first. He was convinced she was lying, and that Cry Baby was perhaps resting, maybe with some poison inside of her to help her sleep or forget. But he was still determined to see her.

   He waited by her college, on the path, on their bench, but she was never there. Blurry started to wonder if Cry Baby's mother was telling the truth. Or at least half of it. If Cry Baby truly was just out for a walk when Blurry came to her door, where was she now?