Who's ready for some mentally-ill reader meets Undertale?!
Drown me I need to stop
hahaha. I refuse to be ashamed. Or acknowledge that I am.
Having an apartment was insufferable. A constant need to retain a certain volume, a distinct lack of privacy, a social environment…
All things that didn't agree with you.
You weren't sociable, and you weren't 'out there'. You liked your privacy and you tried not to see other people if you could avoid it. You weren't very loud, it wasn't like you had a roommate to talk to; but knowing there was a limit was stressful by itself.
You didn't have enough money to move out to your own place, or even one with thicker walls. Working as a librarian was fairly basic pay, but it wasn't like you weren't making thousands a week.
It was enough for a fairly nice building. You felt you should probably be content with that, but hell, who were you kidding?
You sighed loudly, ignoring the audible flutter in your breathing. You weren't sure you were ever going to be content.
That was alright. This was alright.
Sighing again, this time out through your nose you slumped where you had been standing. The floorboards were cool against your calves but you barely noticed.
Slouched on the floor, you closed your eyes and breathed. Your palms pressed flush against the floor, you simply waited. A few times you forgot to breathe and stopped, but always remembered to start again before your lungs started to ache.
God, you were tired.
It took you a few seconds to get back up, and another handful to stumble slowly towards your desk. When you glanced at your clock, it looked hours forward- but you could never be sure. You didn't look when you fell, after all.
The chair creaked under you but you didn't have the energy to wince as the sound grated on your ears. Your eyes felt heavy in their sockets. Maybe…. You set your eyes slowly and tried to numb yourself into darkness.