Yellow POV
By the time I come back to reality, my hand is drenched, my knife is on the floor and I've turned around, now facing Blue's bed.
Hunh, did I fall asleep?
Slowly sitting up and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I get up and quietly walk over to the door. I look back at Blue for a second, noticing her blankets thrown over the side of the bed, and her shivering slightly. Tip-toeing over to her bedside, I pull up her blankets, rolling my eyes at that fact that she's wearing a tank-top in the middle of November. Out of instinct, I almost lean down to kiss her forehead, but stop myself rather quickly and turn away, almost bolting out the door.
Once I'm out in the unusually cold hallways, I let my thoughts wander, as I do the same; just walking around aimlessly.
"Someone's up early," I hear a familiar laugh and I whirl around to see who it is. Flannery stands at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall. Her hair is down, the messy red waves falling over her shoulders and stopping at her waist; an unusual sight. "Then again, aren't you always?" I don't respond- well really I can't, my voice doesn't seem to want to work. "C'mere kiddo," she smiles, a kind smile that I don't deserve. In a matter of seconds I'm in her arms again, wrapping my own around her and burying my face in the baggy purple t-shirt I don't remember her ever having. Her hands start to entangle themselves in my hair, twirling little strands of it between her fingers. "What's wrong?"
"I feel fat." My voice bursts from my throat in a sudden wrack of spontaneous sobbing. Her hands stop moving, instead resting limply on my shoulders.
"Oh honey," her grip on my shoulders tightens "you're anything but." She starts playing with my hair again as I sniffle, attempting to calm myself down. "You're a smart, beautiful, creative girl." We stay like this for a few minutes; her playing with my hair and me leaning onto her like my legs wouldn't work. "I wanna show you somethin'." She pulls back, taking my non-bloody hoodie covered hand and leading me down a separate hall. She'd done my hair into a side braid, taking it out of its usual ponytail.
"This is the art room!" she smiles again, throwing her other arm out in a slightly overdramatic gesture to show me the room. "It's got sketchpads, craft supplies, fabrics," she lists a few more things while unlocking the door "and painting supplies." She grins as I step inside, my eyes falling on the blank canvas and barely-used bottles of paint sitting next to an old baseball cap on the table.
"I'm g-gonna be here a-a while," I nod slowly, and Flannery chuckles.
"Go be that creative cutie we both know you are," she leans down to kiss my forehead before leaving and nearly ramming into a tired looking girl with long lavender hair. Said lavender haired girl then lightly smacks her shoulder and Flannery moves to kiss her forehead too.
Pulling up my sleeves and pulling a pair of old gauntlets from out of my endless pockets, I grab a brush and start choosing my colors; having already decided what to paint. With a blackish blue covering the tip of my brush, I flick my brush across the white slate in front of me, staining it with a shadowy smear. Perfect.
"Who are you?" A boy walks in, startling me a little. His matted brown hair is mostly covered by an old red and black baseball cap, his skin is white as a sheet and his eyes are a hollow brown and his body is hidden under a baggy blue jacket and a pair of long black jeans.
"I-I'm Y-Ye-Yellow." My hand shakes slightly, and I pull back as to not ruin my painting. He nods, taking off his hat twirling it between his slim, boney fingers. Eventually he looks over my shoulder, his dark brown eyes surveying my work.
"What are you painting?"
"An old f-f-friend," I mumble, placing the brush down onto the paint-stained table and picking up another, dipping it in the little puddle of white paint on my palette. I sweep the brush across the middle in kind of circular shape; filling in the middle and moving back to the blue surrounding it add some little details.
"You're very good at this," he murmurs, his eyes falling onto the hat on the table. "Though you haven't done it in a while." I flinch. How did he know that? "You're so shy about it though…" He's turned away from me now, staring down at the hat as he heads for the door. "I think you're wonderful, you need to be more confident."
I shake my head slightly, turning back to the canvas. Before I can get very far though, Blue stumbles by and looks in at me before almost falling through the doorway. She rolls her head to one side, an audible crack echoing throughout the room as she grits her teeth.
"Where the fuck have you been?"
Blue POV
Waking up to Yellow gone and little droplets of red on her sheets was not how expected this morning to start.
Then again, getting knocked out with a baseball bat by some weirdo in a mask was not how I expected my 5th birthday to go either.
Shaking off any thoughts of my utterly fucked up childhood, I find myself up and out the door in a matter of seconds. Why am I so worried about her anyways, she's just a painfully shy, yet frustratingly enigmatic sack of bones with non-existent self-esteem and dead eyes.
But she's unbearably cute. Brownie points for being adorable.
"Morning Blue, where are you off to so early?" I recognize the blank voice of Sabrina, my "therapist." All she ever does is ask me shit about my aforementioned childhood and talk to me about my relations with people.
"Can't talk, busy," I snap, clenching my fists and push past her. My head hurts, and she's only making it worse. She calls after me, voice empty and no meaning fueling her words.
So I don't look back.
She'll only keep making my head worse anyways. She always does. She'll have some in her office, some pills and needles that'll make it better; she has a bunch. But she never lets me have any when I'm there. I've tried to explain it to her, tried to explain that just one needle would make it all better. But all she ever says is that I can only have it in the morning, and if I really need it after supper.
But I always need it. I need it to keep the dreams away. I need it to relax, to actually feel at peace.
"You need to be more confident." A vaguely familiar voice snaps me back to the reality of the pain in my head and the existence of the rest of the world. Black walks past me, N's old hat in his hands. He came from the direction of the art room, so I might as well check there to see if he was actually talking to someone.
Low and behold, Yellow's there, sweeping a brush over the old canvas that's been set up for weeks. My head throbs once more as I stumble into the room, causing her to look up at me.
"Where the fuck have you been?" I growl. Dammit Blue don't be so harsh on the kid… "Well?" more words start spewing out of my mouth before I can stop them.
"I w-w-was ju-just-"
"Whatever, just come on." Before I can stop myself, I grab her wrist and start dragging her out, making her drop her brush. My grip on her wrist tightens as the pounding in my head gets worse.
Maybe Yellow has some pills or a needle.
Maybe she's taking 'em all for herself. Greedy little shit.
God I'm gonna fucking lose it…
Yellow POV
The next thing I know my back is slammed against the wall and Blue's face is centimeters away from mine.
"Give it." Her nails dig into my shoulder, and I shrink into myself as much as I can. Her eyes are dull, but wild and her mouth is twisted into a harsh frown. "Now Yellow."
"G-g-give w-what?" I mumble, flinching as she leans closer.
"You know what I mean you little shit," she snaps, letting go of my shoulders to instead hold my arms above my head, her other hand rooting through my pocket. "You've got some don't you? You've got your own fix, a fix that I need."
"B-Blue?" She jabs her arm into my stomach, effectively silencing me.
"Come on now," she sighs "where'd you put it?" A weight lifts from my pocket and I know she's got the knife.
But what can I do? She's both stronger and taller than me, giving her the obvious advantage.
Might as well just let her have it, she'd have found it eventually anyways.
Besides, everyone has to come to hate me at some point, right?
"Blue!" Suddenly I've sunken down to the floor and Blue's been pulled back by a boy with spiky brown hair. "Pull yourself together dammit!" he growls, pulling her somewhere down the hall.
"Are you okay?" I look up to see a woman with long raven hair, faded magenta eyes and a neutral frown. I nod shakily, slowly standing up and making sure my knife is still there.
Thank god…
"Sorry about her." The woman's voice brings me back to reality, and I realize she's leading me down a different hallway. "Blue gets like that sometimes, not very often though." Her voice is flat, no emotion leaking into it. "I'm Sabrina, by the way, both her, and your doctor, just so you know." I nod again, trying to regain my ability to breathe properly.
In and out Yellow, in and out…
"Here, take one of these, and go lie down for a bit," she says calmly handing me a small white pill. "If Blue's already back, don't worry about it, she won't really be able to do anything to you." I nod numbly, turning around and hoping to easily find my way back to my room. "I'll be seeing you this afternoon, just after lunch," she calls out to me, her voice still flat. I give her a thumbs-up to signal that I heard her before continuing to stumble down the hall.
Knocking back the pill Sabrina gave me, I open the door, having successfully finding my room without trouble. Blue's lying on her bed, turned away from and looking down at something in her hands; quietly, as not to disturb her if she's asleep, I walk over to my own bed and lie down. The second my head falls onto the pillow, my eyes start to droop and all the tension from the last few hours dissipates as I swallow the last of the pill.
As I continue to stare at the blank ceiling, I silently hope that I won't dream, or at least if I do that it's a good one.
Turning over in a last attempt to get comfortable, I see what Blue was looking down at.
The exact thing I was painting earlier.
A round, white mask, with two black circles over the eyes, and a small, v shaped smile.
And then I don't see anything.