I got contacts! And a new Gorillaz shirt! It's the one with Cyborg firing bullets out of her mouth :3 I've got like 5 of their shirts now… I lost count. Oh yeah, and I got more fingerless gloves :3 This is irrelevant to the story…
I just wanna add that this was hard to write, it gets awkward…
I rubbed the red hand-mark on my cheek that Cyborg had left as I sat upon my lumpy blanket-covered mattress. I couldn't get the incident from that afternoon out of my mind.
I glanced at my clock. I hadn't been able to put the correct time, since I had no way of knowing it, so I just guessed when I set it, judging by how dark the waters outside of my window were. The digital face read '11:15 P.M.', but I wasn't tired at all.
Suddenly I remembered 2D had been trying to tell me something about Murdoc before the whole 'Cyborg Incident'. I almost crawled down to his room to ask, but I decided I'd bugged him enough already. He was busy building some new noise machine, anyway.
The distinct rattling of the crappy old lift echoed throughout the hall, and my heart began racing. I silently prayed it wasn't Cyborg.
Two knocks quickly cracked on my door, which was hurriedly thrown open without consent. Instead of glowing green eyes, a pair of bloodshot drunken ones met mine. It was Murdoc, holding a large, hastily-packed duffel bag in his lanky green arms.
"'is arrived in tha post!" he sputtered, and threw it down. "C…clothes!"
Never in my life had I ever seen someone so drunk.
He ambled over to where I sat, and joined me.
"I li' wot 'ou've done wiff tha place."
"Err, thanks…"
"Say, 'ow old are you? 'Cos you 'ook pre'tty old," Murdoc coughed. He awkwardly brushed off a strand of my hair.
"Only 13," I squeaked; this was a time I didn't want to boast my age.
Murdoc threw his arms in the air. "Say, isn't your birfday in, like, a month or some'in? I'll 'ave to remember 'at," he yelled. "You could pass for 16, y'know."
I nervously chuckled. Where the hell is he getting at? I thought.
"Um… I'll just put these away, then, thanks…" I said, hinting that I wanted the drunk to leave immediately.
"Oh no hurry, 'ove. I fought I could get ta know you…" an arm was slung around my shoulder. My eyes widened in shock—I wondered if Cyborg would kill me if I knocked out her 'Master' with the wooden board behind my dresser.
Suddenly a loud clinging and buzzing—the latter sounding a lot like a vuvuzela—erupted from 2D's room.
"Tha fu' is 'at?" exclaimed Murdoc, who jumped up from my mattress, much to my relief. I slid into the chute and pulled the dresser behind me, just to be safe. Inside, I eavesdropped on the ensuing conversation.
I heard 2D's door slam into the wall, followed by a flurry of drunken insults.
"The bloody 'ell is that fackin' noise?"
"None of your business, you old perv!" yelled 2D.
"Turn 'at shit off!" replied Murdoc.
"Call off your damn whale first!"
The arguing went on for another minute until Murdoc finally left—he was in need of more booze.
As soon as I was sure the drunkard was gone, I slid back down into 2D's room. He was lying on his bed, as usual, with his arm across his face. The noise machine was beside him—it looked like a strange keyboard with vuvuelas sticking out of it.
"Hello…" I said quietly, not really sure whether or not it was a good idea to come in.
"That old tosser, hittin' on a girl… you must be traumatized." 2D moved his arm to his side and sat up.
"You could hear all that?" I asked, suddenly feeling self conscious.
"Yeh, the sod was so bloody drunk yeh could hear him outside, prob'ly!" I noticed his eyes had turned white. It looked weird.
I was desperate to change the subject, so I asked, "What's that?" I pointed at the machine on the floor.
"Oh, 'at? It's a Donkatron. I heard whales hate 'em, so I'm gonna set it loud enough to blow its head off!" 2D exclaimed excitedly. He was going on about the whale again, which explained his eye colour.
"Sounds… dangerous," I voiced nervously.
"Don't worry, I've got an immunity to the sound," explained 2D.
I almost laughed, but then I realized the man was serious.
"Oh, I got my clothes!" I reported.
"That's great, love!" he replied.
I turned around to checked 2D's door—and it was open. I excitedly told this to the singer, who sighed with relief.
"I guess I can just walk into my room now, instead of crawl through the chute… or at least until Cyborg comes back tomorrow," I shivered.
"You staying up? You could always watch a horror flick," offered 2D.
"I'd probably fall asleep, sorry…" I felt really bad for turning him down. I ran over and gave him a hug, then said goodnight as I stepped into the hall to go into my own room. Once inside, I opened the duffel bag, shrugging off bad memories. I began pulling out the many pairs of jeans, tees, dresses, leggings and the likes. The bag held the contents of my entire room at home, and thus was as big as myself.
Huh, I thought. This looks a lot like a body bag, come to think of it.