The Woes That Bind Us

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Walking out of the medical room, I spot Jane drinking red wine as she rests her foot on another chair. She swishes it around the glass as she holds a distant gaze with a living room window.

"How's your ankle?" I ask, stepping into the kitchen.

She sighs, still staring out the window, "It will heal. I am only drinking to dull the pain since, according to Ann, my body is more susceptible to addiction to pain-killers. Speaking of, she actually held a conversation with me for once. As awkward as it was, she was quite... friendly," she sips her wine, "I suppose that you have something to do with it?"

I sit down beside her and stare at the window too, "I figured you'd get along with her since you're probably the most friendly person here," I shift my eyes to her, "Did you?"

"You could say that," she adjusts her leg position, "She was very awkward starting a conversation with me — as was I, truthfully. She had never spoken to me often until now, and her social skills are about on par with Jackie's. How come she is so comfortable speaking to you? She seemed to converse like an adult when we were helping you throw your guts up."

Shrugging, I eye my cast and shake my head at its incessant aching, "Maybe she's just more comfortable with me since I'm new. I'd be awkward too if it meant I had to finally speak with someone I've been ignoring for years. What about Jackie, though? It feels like she speaks less than Ann does."

Jane finishes her wine, "Jackie is a strange one. Well, that is a poor way of putting it, but you must bear with me; she is not necessarily shy, she is simply more... silent. You could say she is an extreme introvert or, in different terms, voluntarily mute. Of course, Jackie does speak, but she only does so when she deems it worth the breath."

My eyes drift to the hallway leading to the main stairs, sowing thoughts of sleep in my mind, "Is there anything you can tell me about her? I'd rather not be in the same situation as you and Ann, no offense."

She laughs and shrugs, pouring another glass of wine, "I have not the slightest clue when it comes to that girl. Just approach her on your own, or perhaps an event will naturally bring the two of you together. Fate will tell."

"I'll take the fate part with a grain of salt, I guess," My chair groans across the floor when I stand.

Making my way to the main stairway, I stop and peek out the window of the front door. A dense ring of forestry encircles the mansion. In between is a moat of untouched, perfect grass except for one path leading into the woods from the mansion, beaten into the ground by countless footsteps. I wonder when I'll be able to go outside again. Will Slenda allow it once I heal, or do I have to stay inside because of Zalga?

After climbing the stairs, I notice that my door's been painted completely black like Jane's. Approaching it, I can feel something else off about it, too. There's something there, but I can't really put my finger on it. I put my face close enough to smell the wood and see my name painted faintly onto it. Ah, I get it now. Painter's a clever girl.

There's a bump in a door down the hallway, so I go to investigate. It came from Benny's room. I reach for the door handle, but someone grabs my arm before I can open it.

Tobi, who is cutting off my arm's circulation, whispers, "Leave her t-to herself for a while. Benny wouldn't want-t anyone to see her the w-way she is right now."

I step back from the door as Tobi jerks my arm towards her in a tic.

"Sorry," she murmurs, pulling her arm into her chest.

She seems a lot more skittish.

"You alright?" I ask, walking away from Benny's room with her.

She pulls me into her room, looking over her shoulder, but not at me, "Benny can't. She c-can't. Can you? He doesn't hate me, d-does he?"

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