Apartment Room

327 24 3
                                    

   Cry Baby sat alone in Blurryface's odd room. She looked around, biting her tongue as she took in the not-so-stunning scenery. Dark, raggedy curtains, a desk with unorganized sheets of paper scattered over it, a fridge and an oven, a bed in the far corner with no blankets or pillows, simply a dirty mattress, and a couch with an ugly, torn apart blanket draped on it.

   Nothing was incredibly appealing to her, so she sat down at Blurryface's desk.

   She ran her hands over all the paper that covered the table. She picked one up, studying it carefully.

   It was bleakly poetic.

   She read through it, and at some point, she sang an intriguing line from it to herself.

   "I've got two faces. Blurry's the one I'm not. I need your help to take him out."

   She thought back to the song that was written for her, the shout for help of sorts. She wondered if Blurry was always calling for her whenever he wrote these desperate sentences.

   She almost picked up another sheet, but the door opened quickly, and she jumped up from the chair. She didn't even need to worry about Blurry catching her reading his writing, because he was clearly anxious to tell her something.

   "Cry Baby." He called her name as soon as he walked in the door, in a voice level you might use if you were trying to speak to somebody a floor above you, as apposed to right in front of you.

   "Yes?"

   "I'm so sorry." He looked like he was about to reach for her hand, then stopped himself.

   "Blurry... What happened? Where did you go? Are you alright?"

   "Cry Baby, your mom planned for you to get kidnapped."

   Cry Baby felt an invisible force pound into her stomach. She never expected great things from her mom, but she never expected evil either. She hunched over, and Blurryface urged her to sit down, which she did breathlessly.

   "How can that be?" She asked, using all her might.

   "That man selling you ice cream is a drug dealer. She wanted you to leave the house at a specific time and go to a specific place, and she wanted him there too. She didn't expect you to escape from him by yourself, so she was planning to be a hero since she -" He stopped himself and cleared his throat. "She just... wanted to rescue you."

   "Why on earth would she choose to be a hero now, after all these years?"

   Blurryface obviously hesitated. "I assume she just wanted a clean slate. Which I don't believe she deserves."

   "Why now, though? Why did she decide this so late?"

Blurryface looked at her, piercing through her eyes and directly into her head, but didn't say a word.

"Blurry?" She asked, concerned. "Why... Why so late?"

"I don't know."

"You're lying." She spat out.

He looked shocked, but seemingly more surprised that she had the guts to blurt such a thing at him.

"Blurry, I know you. I understand we haven't been friends since grade school, and no one can say we fit the typical image of friends either, but I know you. I've known you long enough that I've gotten you to stop lingering in silence so often, and I know you well enough to know when you're not being truthful."

His eyes widened and then wandered when she said this, but she kept her stare fixed on him, planning to make him uncomfortable.

"Blurry, just tell me what you know."

"I really don't think now is the time."

"I don't care. Tell me. Whatever it is, tell me."

"You wanna know?"

"Yes!" She yelled.

"You really wanna know?"

"Yes, Blurry, yes! Just tell me!"

"Your mother murdered your father and his mistress."

Cry Baby felt like those words were knives, cutting into her body, and leaving a lifeless corpse of shock.

Shock.

No words.

No movements.

No thoughts.

Pure shock.

Blurry sat beside her and watched her as her lips trembled, as she tried to grasp the words that she couldn't find anywhere.

In that moment, she wished there was one big, ugly word to describe feelings and things that were too upsetting to imagine. She wished that this word would be illegal, and anybody who used it would be locked away for frightening those around them with that horrific word. If that word existed, she would keep it in her brain right now, like her own little secret, like the only thing on the planet that could even attempt to relate to her.

But there wasn't such a word, a word that sounded as disgusting as the situations and people it described.

She hopped up from the couch, and puked outdoors, as passerby gasped and looked away.

Blurryface came outside soon after, and tried to comfort her. No matter how sweet his words were, none of them could paint over the information that stuck in Cry Baby's brain.

It took almost an hour for her to make it all the way into the apartment room and onto the sofa. Blurry knelt next to her, and brushed his hand over her hair.

Immediately after, he yanked his hand away and looked at the ground.

"Sorry."

Cry Baby just shook her head.

"Please get some sleep." Blurry whispered. He looked at her, and immediately noted, "Oh, gosh, you probably hate that gross blanket. You know what, it's not too late out, I'm going to go to the store and get you something better."

Cry Baby wanted to tell him he didn't have to, but she couldn't find the energy. She didn't protest.

She closed her eyes, but all she could see were the dark things hiding in her imagination. She didn't even want to think of exactly how it all looked or happened, but she couldn't help it.

These thoughts were still haunting her mind when Blurry came back a half hour later.

He must have thought she was asleep, because her removed her blanket carefully, before gently placing a new, much softer and heavier one over her. He also lifted her head with his hands, so he could put a pillow under her.

She felt his presence beside her for a while, but her eyes were closed. When he got up, she noticed how he walked over to the awful bed without any kind of pouting, letting her have the most comfortable place to rest.

Blurryface meets Cry BabyWhere stories live. Discover now