SORRY DIS IS LAAAATE! Okay, so this story might be slightly more slow because guess what? BLOODY SCHOOL STARTED GAHHH! Yes, I know. Cheer for the nerd who actually attends that place. SO! Since I am a good student, I will do all my work first and THEN the chapters. No worries, I am not an underachiever! So the chapters will be just as good. Just a tad bit slower to appear.
You watched as all the guests left that night. You wanted to go with them, but they simply pushed you back into the house and told you to stay. Seriously, they did hand motions and everything as if you were a dog. These people are ridiculous.
You slump back onto the couch for the third time and sigh. Where'd John go? Right, he ran up into his room after snatching that video tape. You better go check up on the guy.
You get up and walk upstairs to John's room. The door is shut, the lights are off and you hear whimpering. Aw man…he's crying.
You knock on his door lightly to try and catch his attention. The crying stops for a few seconds with a sniffle.
"John?" You ask concerned.
The crying starts up again. This is great. You're probably the reason he's so depressed, and you don't have the memory to know why. So why is he mad if you can't even remember? It's not your fault! Maybe if you play dumber than usual, he will tell you why you're so mad. And you might solve this identity case once and for all!
You knock on the door harder this time. "John? What are those sounds you're making?"
The door goes 'click' signaling it's been unlocked. The door cracks a sliver open and you see John's glasses lenses reflecting light and blocking his eyes.
"N-Nothing," John says in a hoarse whisper.
"Come on, tell me." You urge.
"It's…It's called crying," John admits.
"Oh. What's that?" You ask, playing along.
"It happens when you're overwhelmed with depression. Water comes out of your eyes and you sometimes whine." John sniffles.
"Why are you depressed?" You ask softly.
"B-Because of y-" John looks at your face and stops.
"You're crying because of Y-?" You cock your head.
"It's what the past you did…" John says and rubs at his eyes. "It's your entire fault and now you're just…"
John takes off his square glasses and rubs at his eyes more. You wait patiently, knowing this was truly something bothering him.
"I'm just what?" You ask.
"Now, you're just blank. I can't do a thing about it. What you did before was truly awful, and … and you saw it. You remember it now," John puts his glasses back on.
"I remember it? John, I think you're-"
"You just saw it!" John suddenly yelps.
You pause. He means the video. You were yelling your head off at those strangers. Why would you do that? Maybe you had a bipolar disorder?
"I'm sorry for before," You apologize.
"You can't do that; you don't even know what you did wrong." John sniffles.
John walked away from the door, leaving it a crack open. You stood there, wondering what could possibly be running through that mind of his. There's probably a ton more pumping through his mind than yours, so you can't exactly be critical.
You can't just let him be depressed, though. You don't remember any feelings what so ever for this kid, and you certainly don't have any now. You feel cold to him, but you want to warm up to him. It would be nice to remember what went on, so you could encourage John better. You should use your situation to persuade him to explain.
You opened the door the rest of the way with a creak and slipped inside the bed room. John is sitting with his back turned on the edge of his bed hunched over. The pale gentle light from outside crept in on his jet black hair and white tee shirt, making him glance back at you. He noticed it was you, and turned back immediately.
"Come on, John." You say softly. "How am I supposed to comfort you if I'm blind to what I did?"
John sniffled without another word. This kid is stubborn, isn't he? You suddenly remember that he is one of the most stubborn kids you've ever met.
You walk over and sit on the edge of the bed next to John, still facing the door. John doesn't react at all, he just keeps his head down. You sigh subtly and look down at your feet.
"What did I do?" You ask in a whisper.
"It was at the Christmas party." John whimpered. "Last year,"
"I know that already, what did I do? I know who, where, when but not what or how." You say slightly impatiently.
"At the party, you had a moment where you told somebody that you were sort of flushed for Terezi. It was really personal to you, and you were super embarrassed of it." John began.
"Who's 'somebody'?" You ask.
"I can't use names right now. In the story, I will call this boy, 'somebody'." John put simply.
"Kay…" You sigh.
"Then that same person you poured your heart out on got into a situation and ended up kissing Terezi. You were so upset, you didn't even yell. You were silent. You were heartbroken for the betrayal. So you just left, you left and sat out in the snow for hours. That somebody begged you to come inside, it was getting late and there was supposed to be a storm. You refused every time, and ended up screaming at somebody. You got so violent, you hit him. And then somebody went inside to let you be out of frustration. When Terezi realized what she did, after seeing all this drama, she went outside to comfort you and apologize, but you were unconscious in the snow." John finished.
John said nothing from there. You sat on the edge of the bed looking at your still feet. Then what happened in the hospital? You best not ask, John was still upset about the video.
"John, I'm sorry for hitting you." You apologize quietly.
"You can't do that. You can't even remember how you feel," John said coldly with his back turned.
"I really am," You say, sitting up straighter and looking back at him.
John goes quiet again. This must be really hard for him. If only you could remember how he feels. That is, if you ever knew. You better give him some space.
You stand up, and begin to walk in the dark when you run into something big and solid. You hit your face harshly, making you stumble back and groan. You hit the wall. You hear something drop on the floor. You hear a flip and flutter. It must've been a calendar.
You rub your face with your hand gently, remembering your arms are still in recovery. They still don't feel half bad though.
You look down to pick up the calendar and see there's a date marked in red. You pick up the calendar and look. The circled date says: CHECK UP WITH THE DR THE HOSPITAL. There's a small doodle of a happy smiley buck toothed face next to it. How cute?
Maybe it's for you? It is at the hospital, it must be. Who else would be there? Yeah, you do have some health issues….wait, what's a doctor?! Well, you'll find out tomorrow you guess.
Rate and review, guys! I'm really enjoying writing this myself. I don't mean to brag, but this story is actually the one that has the most meaning. The other stories are gag and troll fictions, so this one's actually good! :o)