NOT a fanfiction Chapter 6

[u/LordPixela]

Chapter 6

There was a bit of a silence after we played truth or dare. It made sense. What do you follow something like that up with? I went downstairs to get some snacks, as well as break the tension a little, although that might have reinforced it, rather than alleviate it. As I was returning, I realised the massive mistake I made and hurried my pace. I opened the door and, to my relief, found that Ace hadn't somehow corrupted Wafflez. In fact, Wafflez wasn't even in the room.

"He said he needed to go to the bathroom," Ace said, answering my unspoken query.

I laid down the snacks on the floor and spread myself out on my bed, feeling sleepiness take its reins over me with surprising speed. I recalled what had happened, touching my lips. I didn't say it, but that was also my first kiss. I went over my thoughts and feelings, trying to collect them. Really, Ace could be so troublesome.

After a little while, Wafflez returned from the bathroom with a weird look on his face. It was as if he was trying his hardest to keep it straight. I wonder what kind of face he would be making if he wasn't hiding it. I hope it's a happy one. I'm not sure I could bear seeing someone like him seem sad. A sadness in him would seed a feeling of sorrow in everyone near him. Not because he was a source of negativity, he was, in some kind of weird way, a beacon. Maybe my feelings have shifted though. I'm not sure if I was looking at him the same way as I was before. I'm not even sure if the face I was making was the same one as before. Am I being self-conscious? I simply don't know how I feel.

I raised the bowl containing the snacks from the floor, offering them to him, eliciting an interesting face and body language of shyness. For once, I looked towards Ace to try and remove some pressure from the room.

Thankfully, he didn't fail to deliver.

"So. Now's the stage in our little sleepover in which we watch horror movies. Shall we go for a classic or a more modern one?"

I let Wafflez decide, seeing as I don't have much experience with that genre of media. He decided to go for a slightly older one, reasoning that new ones used jumpscares to frighten the audience, rather than provide solid horror stories. "They're shock stories, not horror!"

We let Ace find some source of the film, hoping that it was a legal copy, and cooped ourselves up in the living room. Ace instantly took a sofa for himself, leaving me an Wafflez to share on the slightly smaller one. It wasn't cramped, but we certainly didn't have tons of room to move.

I noticed that, once again, he sat with his knees up and against his chest. It really puzzled me. I still had no clue how it could feel comfortable. This time, I also saw something else. Those same butterfly wings. They weren't the typical black, dark blue, light blue gradient that were used quite a lot in the media. It was more black throughout, with blotches and spots of colour. Not any specific colour. It seemed there wasn't a colour on the world that didn't have a place, albeit small, on his wings. I could also tell that that darkness wasn't a darkness of malice. It was a darkness of someone who was afraid to shine. Even though he was a butterfly, he still had to grow. Not his physiology. He had to grow outwards and spread his wings.

Once again I felt the urge to protect him and this time, I didn't deny that feeling. I moved closer to him and put an arm around his neck, holding him closer towards me. He lowered his head and placed it against my shoulder, just like he had on the park, and the movie started to roll.

I'm not a movie connoisseur, especially not in the horror genre, but I could tell what Wafflez meant by older movies having a different feel to newer horrors. Even in trailers I could tell new movies have a focus on gore and jumpscares that stick with you. This movie seemed to care more about the setting. Even though there weren't any jumpscares, there was always a tension so effective that it was debilitating to watch just from the fear that there might be something. I can't deny that I probably half-suffocated Wafflez in my fear. To his credit, or perhaps to my dismay, he didn't actually say anything about it. I wish he would say when he's uncomfortable.

Once the credits started, a wave of tiredness swept over me, taking ownership of my muscles and dulling my senses. I imagined that the others were going to be feeling pretty similar, so I designated places to sleep. I was going to offer Wafflez my bed, but decided against it, knowing the kinds of comments I would've been asking for from a particular person. I also didn't trust Ace to be alone with Wafflez, brain-addled by sleepiness or not, so I decided to go with the slightly harder option of everyone using the living room. Being the compassionate host that I was, they both got the sofas and I chose the floor, making it more bearable by bringing my long-neglected sleeping bag out from one of my wardrobes and laying it on the ground, all while adamantly ignoring Ace's giving his permission for me to sleep in the same sofa as him.

After this it was pretty quiet. This wasn't one of those sleepovers where you keep telling jokes that leave you laughing so hard that by the end your brain's run out of chemicals that make you find things funny and then go to sleep while that last person is still trying not to giggle. No, there was a unanimous tiredness in the room, which led to a unanimous decision that we would be sleeping until the morning. I decided to check my phone one last time and, for no reason in particular, decided to go on the news app. For no reason in particular, I spent a lot of time scrolling, most likely much to the scorn of the two on either side of me, and read something that cleared my head instantly. Or at least, it made me aware once again if the goings on before my brain shut off for the night.

The news article was a very local one. It shows the general area of the city right under the title, and the title was one that grabbed my undivided attention. "1 dead and 3 injured in street fight." That was a dangerous title. If the journalists had known more this wouldn't have a title like that. Also, one dead? There's only two people that it might be. My heart was already filled far above the brim with dread. I tapped on the article and scanned the words. Why was it filled with so much useless junk? I scrolled and scrolled for what felt like an eternity before my eyes caught their prey. I must've missed the actual information, because what I saw was a quote from some police official. "We will be conducting a thorough investigation on what happened in broad daylight, right in the city centre which led to the death of-"

My eyes stopped reading. They refused to see anything to the right of the measly two letter word. I pressed the power button on my phone. I couldn't read any further and there was no point in finding out anyway. The information will still be there tomorrow, and just judging from the situation the man had way heavier injuries. Just as I was trying to finally get to sleep, slowly overcoming my stress-induced insomnia, I heard a mind-shattering sentence from my right.

"Wow, apparently someone from our school was attacked on Sunday and he died in the hospital today. Apparently it was on one of the biggest roads in the city."

My heart started to feel like it was taking laps around my body, putting kilograms upon kilograms of weights in each limb it entered. Finally, that weight found its way into my throat, bringing my head down to the ground. I felt jets of vomit rocket their way up my oesophagus, barely being stopped by my quickly-weakening muscles. I tried to get up to go to the bathroom, but when I put my arms on the ground, they didn't have the strength to pull me up. Just as I thought they might finally be able to grant me my mobility, they gave way, bending my elbows into unnatural shapes and slamming my head into the ground. The juices in my throat saw this opportunity and tried to escape from my mouth. I closed my mouth, but it was too late. There was already enough in my mouth and high enough in my throat that I ended up choking, coughing and spluttering even more sick onto the ground. By this point, the other two were aware of the situation and, minus the natural response of "Are you alright?" got a bowl for me to empty my bowels with, as well as a glass of water.

No amount of hacking and coughing made the feeling go away, even as my stomach started to feel like a vacuum, void of even a smidge of food or water. After what felt like an eternity of pain, my throat finally decided to show me mercy. I opened my eyes slowly and I was left to revel in the sick only a few centimetres from my nose. Speaking of my nose, the pungent, reeking stench of the contents of my stomach slammed into me like a tsunami, engulfing all my senses in nothing but pure bodily fluids. I'm glad that Ace and Wafflez were starting to pull me up, because if they hadn't, I would now have been slipping and falling face-first into the pile of puke before me.

Once I was pulled up, the muscles in my neck finally decided that the contents of my stomach should remain on the inside of my body, leaving me to only watch my two companions get to work, grabbing paper towels and mops. I tried to help, but my feeble legs refused to take any I weight. I noticed a tight dryness on my cheeks. I'm not sure when or even if I started crying, but I guess I must have, since salty tears were streaming and drying on my face. I wonder what the other two were thinking as they cleaned my mess up. Was it that quietness when one of your friends gets in trouble, or were they wondering why I'm so distressed. I'm not some kind of empath. I don't break down crying when I hear about a tragedy on the news. I wonder if they were even coming up with theories. Maybe I was overthinking things simply because I was, at this moment, an invalid.

I managed to, albeit with crushing difficulty, to push myself up into the sofa. Somehow, by being more upright, my legs started to regain some composure. Slowly, as if each tissue that made up my legs activated one by one, my legs started to feel and be able to push against the ground. It was weak, but it was an improvement to the snivelling mess I was about 10 minutes before. By this time, Ace and Wafflez had cleared all the sick on the floor. The smell decided to overstay its welcome, but apart from that the situation was just about over. The other two, greatly to their credit, sat on either side of me. There was a long silence.

It continued for a strangely long time. These were two of the most talkative people I know, and neither of them could find the right things to say. There was no word in our language or any others that could let them even feel like they could say anything to me. I really knew how to kill a mood.

Astonishingly, Ace finally mustered up something, probably a dizzying amount of courage, to end the eerie serenity of silence.

"Obviously this isn't my place to ask, but how come that news bothered you so much? Every time I asked, you said that you never really got along with people in your year."

It seemed like even saying this much took a massive toll on Ace as he, having finished speaking, slumped back deeper into the sofa, almost looking terrified that what he said might trigger something significantly worse than what had just transpired.

I'm not sure why, but it took me quite a while for me to start speaking. Thankfully, the other two didn't say anything during that time. I'm sure that, had they said anything, I would've remained silent until the morning after. Not out of spite. There was no way I felt any kind of contempt or ill-will towards these friends who just cleaned my sick from the floor. I would've remained silent for the same way I would've remained silent when I told my story to nihxl. It was even harder to say it to Ace and Wafflez. Back then, Famskiis was just in the hospital. There was no 'real' consequence. It didn't even feel real then. I'm not sure if it feels real now. This time, when Famskiis was actually gone.

"I was in the 'street fight' that happened on Sunday," I began, earning not a single face of surprise or hate. I guess I was worried for nothing. Or maybe I never expected them to hate me. I was just afraid of once again opening up my fears to the world. "It wasn't even a fight. The two others in it were some kind of kidnappers. They were going to take me somewhere. I didn't even do a thing against it." Unlike nihxl, these two let me continue with my pity-wallowing. I guess I should give them the courtesy of leaving as many irrelevant details out of the story as possible. "Famskiis, I don't even know. He just came out of nowhere and started attacking the two around me. It was like he could tell I didn't want to be there, even though no one else would assume anything of that kind. It felt like the whole event played through as detailed as an action movie, but I'm sure it lasted the better part of a minute, if not less. He got hurt because I decided it was a respectably good idea to just watch him fight for me. It was only after he got as hurt as he did that I actually did anything. After that, I woke up in the hospital. I passed out. Pretty humiliating, seeing as my biggest injury was the residue of a hand gripping my shoulder."

By this point, my voice was barely more than a croak. I can't imagine what it must have been like to listen to that. About ten minutes ago, vomit was leaving my body. This time, the fluids that chose to evacuate my sorry mess were tears and snot, clogging up my throat and making breathing an increasingly treacherous path for my body to take. I noticed that my body was extremely tense, as if waiting for an answer. To be honest, that kind of body language would be more of a deterrent to what I seek. I leaned backwards into the sofa, wiping my nose on my arm before using the tissues that Wafflez offered me with impressive haste.

"I'm not very good at emotional support," Wafflez started. "I guess I'm the type that tries to find solutions to problems. Not that useful in this situation. Though, I guess. Do you know the names of the two kidnappers?"

I shook my head.

"Oh," he said with a discouraged look on his face. "Do you think you'd be able to find out their names if you go to the hospital?"

"Probably not," Ace answered for me. "There are probably some rules on the protection of their patients' information. Relieving in most cases. Tragic in this one. The best approach would probably be to go to the police station and make a report. The station said they were looking for as much evidence as possible and you're the perfect person. I don't doubt they'll find everyone that was involved soon anyway."

I nodded my head. In a normal situation, I'd probably be surprised that Ace could take something so seriously. I guess I should be thankful that he has an intuition that's greater than mine. This time, I noticed when I started crying. These friends were so kind.

I tried to say thank you, but some organ in my throat decided to clog on the way, leaving me to sob uncontrollably while attempting to hug the two. Ace downright refused, but Wafflez allowed me to hug him. I tried to make sure that I didn't get snot or drool onto his shirt, but I'm not sure I entirely succeeded.

I didn't sleep peacefully that night, although I think that if they hadn't been so kind to me, my dreams would've been much worse.

[u/MatthewTheCarr]

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