Confinement Part 13

Announcements: So! I would like to warn you that this part would maybe be rated PG-13 for grossness, lol. QOD is in the results as usual, and comment!

Okay, so I've realized that I'm really not the best at making friends, haha. And I know that I don't really participate in the conversations going around here, so I don't know, if you'd like to talk to me you can just email me at danarwhal@yahoo(.)com and I'll actually reply. lol

Created by: Dannica

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Our "Big Five" Personality Assessment Quiz!

  1. I didn't see either of them since lunch. Directly after class I headed up to my dorm so I could prepare to go to Cafe Montesquieu, hoping this time wouldn't be as problematic. I hadn't come up with a new set list, so I guess I was just going to have to wing it. Gus welcome me on the bus, which was packed with people, so I had to stand. The ride was jumpy, since there were so many bumps. I heard Gus grumble when some kids complained. Finally the doors whooshed open and the bus came to a reeling stop. The people in front of me stepped off and wandered into their foreign hangouts, that someday I wanted to find out and see for myself. "I'll get you a doughnut when I come back," I said to Gus as I passed him. He smiled and puffed out his cheeks. "Will do. Good luck to you, girl."
  2. The cafe didn't have as much people as it did the first time I came to play, but this crowd looked decent, too. I went over to Dots behind the counter and she gave me a welcome hug. "Remember: enjoy the clapping this time, and don't rush off the stage and scare the crap out of me." I smiled. "No worries. Are you going to introduce me again?" She shook her head and nodded at the long wait of customers that were on the go. "But bear in mind, Brynn is in the audience. I should say, she's a little competitive." I scoured the spectators of people, and my eyes were simply drawn to the beautiful brunette girl. She was sitting alone, stirring her drink together with both her hands clamped around the mug, a look of curiosity and eagerness easily displayed on her face. "Is she going to boo me if I'm bad?" I asked as a joke. Dots didn't seem to take it. "She might, if she feels you deserve it." I unzipped my guitar and went on the other side of the counter. "Thank makes me feel so much less nervous. I appreciate that, Dots."
  3. As I was playing through my whole gig, I kept sneaking glances at Brynn. To be honest, I was curious too. I was curious at what she thought about me and if she saw me as a threat. If I was her I know I definitely wouldn't. I mean, I might have looked all professional and Ed Sheeran-like, but if she knew how disastrously unorganized I was mentally and physically, I don't think there would be a worry. When I was finished with my last song (which I had to think of fast because I was running out of songs to perform), I stood on the stage center of the limelight, absorbing all the grins and shakes of heads and hands joining together, since I didn't get to do that the first show. I looked over at Brynn. She wasn't clapping. In fact, she was looking at me in a way that made me want to hide under a rock. It was the stare of venom, like a snake's when they stare deep into your eyes, trying to sense your alarm and your intentions"”whether they should attack you or not. It was exactly like that. And then she smiled. But I didn't think it was friendly. No, I think it was a threatening sort of smile. Like she knew she was better than me. Either way, she stood up and made her way to leave, that smile still on her face.
  4. Dots payed me again and told me I did better this show than last. "Thanks," I said, pocketing the money, still not able to rid of Brynn's face when I looked at her. "Is something wrong?" Dots asked, creasing her forehead. I shook my head. "No. No, it's just, I was kinda nervous. Because of Brynn and stuff." Dots laughed. "Nothing to worry about. She's the sweetest thing ever. Wouldn't hurt an ant if a whole colony were crawling all over her favorite chocolate bar." I lugged my guitar up by the case handle and sighed. "Yeah, I guess I'm just paranoid. Oh, and can I have a chocolate doughnut to go? I'm trying to make new friends." Dots took out a small bag. "On it. And it's on the house. Same as bagels and small drinks. Employee discounts are great sometimes." I laughed. "Then I guess you should stock up more on doughnuts and hot chocolate. Because you're going to need the extra helpings."
  5. I was walking out of the cafe, the doughnut safely tucked in a small pouch of my guitar case. I was going to to take my usual way out, when I saw the Barbies fluttering in the same direction. Not wanting to interact with them on any circumstances, I quickly cut through a small alley in between one store and another. Would it have been a smart decision in Maine? No, because there were muggers and people that would jump you there. But here in a Town Square with so many people to call for within hearing distance? I figured it would be safe. Besides, it would just be going around the shops instead of through. And the sun was still shining heavily. Muggers were mostly nocturnal, so I'd like to think. The alley was a usual alley: lined up with back doors and trash cans. It was about maybe fifty feet in distance, and it was in between two of the more taller buildings in the Town Square, about maybe the size of a quaint two story house in height. So I just started walking through it at my regular pace. Because there was absolutely nothing to worry about.
  6. Every once in a while I looked behind my shoulder, yet all I saw were strangers moving past the opening, probably not knowing that I even existed. On the other side of the alley, safe and sound, I continued walking straight. I was at the very edge, where the Town Square ended, where it was lined with a chain linked fence on my right, and then the backs of the buildings with other alleys on my left. If I squinted I could just see the main entrance to the Town Square, the big arch with the American and Pennsylvanian flags out in front, flapping to the breeze of the wind. But only if I squinted. Then there was a sound. It sounded like somebody throwing out the trash; like a kick to a metal can. At that moment I quickened up a little, but couldn't go at my regular speed because my guitar was slowing me down and I couldn't just ditch it like that. I turned around because I felt like somebody was there. Like eyes were sitting there and watching me. But there was nobody. Nobody but a regular old crow, at least. I tried making a move towards it, because paranoia got the best of me and I thought it was some sort of evil bird or whatever, but it flew off in a matter of time, just like other birds would have done. Another noise.
  7. This time I didn't even hesitate because I was so frightened at the time. I felt like Snow White when she was in the forest, except she was running from the huntsman and I didn't even know who or what I was running from. I turned mt head back around, my hair whipping around my face and my guitar banging against my leg whenever I just moved, and yet there was nothing. And then I heard crying, and I stopped. It was coming from the alley in front of me. Panting for breath, I made my way there slowly, and kept my body hidden behind the store wall, just slightly peeking out to see what was there. There was nothing out of the ordinary in sight. Well, if you excluded the crying toddler huddled up against the trash can holding a miniature Buzz Lightyear in his small hands. Just a kid. Probably lost. I revealed myself from the wall. Those noises probably just were people taking out their trash. God, I was so stupid. I propped my guitar up against the wall and made my way to the kid cautiously. I kneeled down and asked, "What's wrong, bud?" The kid wiped away his eyes with his forearm. "I lost my mommy."
  8. I put my hand gently on his shoulder. "It's going to be okay, alright? We're going to find your mommy. Is it okay if I take your hand? So that you don't get lost again?" Hesitant at first, the little boy nodded. I took his pudgy little hand in mine and gave him an assuring smile. "What's your name?" He sniffled. "Jeff." I tugged him a little. "Well, Jeff, I'm ____. That's a nice toy you have. Is Toy Story your favorite movie?" Jeff shook his head. "I don't like movies like that. I like scary movies." I felt my mouth go dry. "Oh? What kind of scary movies?" Jeff suddenly smiled. "I don't know. Like, the ones where the bad guy is the least expected and you can't tell who's who." We were halfway down the alley. "Do you like scary movies?" he asked me, his grip suddenly getting tighter like he was trying to suffocate my hand. "The ones with the slasher or the crazed murderer? Those ones?" My hand started hurting bad. "Jeff," I choked out, unable to find my voice. And then suddenly Jeff's teeth started falling out. One by one, hitting the floor and making the sound of marbles being hit together. And the bigger he grinned the more teeth would fall at the same time. I tried pulling away from his grip, but his hold was too firm on me.
  9. Then his skin started peeling away. First it came from his cheeks, and then it gradually picked up from there; his arms, his lips, even his hair started shedding off. Piece by piece, sliver by sliver, peeling off as easily as ripping off the skin of a chicken. And he was just smiling. I could barely watch as his skin fell of him. First it was pink, with blood oozing out of him, making a pool of it under both our feet. I squealed, trying to run, trying to break free, trying to will my Marks to see if they were actually legit (which at the time I didn't think so). Then with Jeff's free hand, he brought it up to his eye, making a small C with his thumb and forefinger. Then he did the unexpected. He started gouging his eyes out. His very own eyes. The blood leaked out onto his already bloody finger. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get the already burnt image out of my mind, but I could still hear it as it hut the floor. Like a wet sponge. Then I heard a crack. Pain surged through me like an electric bolt. I forced my eyes open and stared at my newly released and now limp wrist. It then occurred to me that the crack was from me. Jeff snapped my wrist. He broke it. He broke it with that same pudgy hand. I wanted to scream. Why hadn't I before? Because I couldn't, that was why. My voice was gone, and I didn't know what happened to it. I started crying. The pain was too overwhelming. Suddenly Jeff started to change. His pink body started turning shades darker. His skin was growing back, but into something scaled and slimy looking, with bright red eyes, and inches and inches of long, sharp nails. A Kroutin.
  10. The monster raised his hand at me, ready to swipe at me. I raised my hand lamely, as if I was actually going to block it. Then I closed my eyes as he made a move to bring his hand down on me. I waited for the pain (aside from my wrist). But there was none. No pain. Nothing. Was it really true that dying didn't hurt? I tried to move, but my wrist felt like it was covered in cement and people were jack hammering it. I dared to open my eyes. Rave. He was there, and he was fighting it. He was fighting the Kroutin all by himself. I watched him as he did so, my wrist feeling like it was going to fall off any moment. I bit my lip hard from not wanting to scream, and tasted blood on my tongue. Then I saw Rave wave his arm and the Kroutin was flown backwards into the wall. He turned around to look at me and then yelled, "Get down behind the trash can!" I didn't know what to do except obey. I peered out, trying to watch the scene, trying to forget about my own troubles, the pain I was feeling. I tried touching my wrist with my other hand and cried out. It was too bad; It was too damaged. Suddenly I saw smoke in the sky, and a great blinding light pierced my vision.
  11. I buried my face into my arm and tucked my knees into my chest. When I felt the light go away, I opened my eyes again, and heard silence. Then Rave appeared out of nowhere next to me, looking me over. "Give me your hand," he said in an urgent voice. "Hurry." I did as was told. He took my wrist gently within his soft fingertips and stroked it with care, closing his eyes. "This might hurt a little," he whispered, keeping his focus. And then suddenly I felt a sharp pull within my hand, making me wither in pain. It felt like all my veins and arteries were in knots and somebody was just pulling them tighter and tighter together until"”Better. It was getting better. The pain reduced to a minor, and then in moments it was like my wrist was never broken in the first place. I felt my face crusted with a bunch of dry tear strains. I wished to rub it off, but Rave was still holding onto my hand. I saw him swallow, looking from my hand to his. He helped me up and then let go. "Are you alright?" The image popped back up in my mind. Jeff's skin peeling off, the thought of his eyeballs flipping and turning on the ground like a fish out of water. I shook my head at Rave, and then turned to throw up. I felt him come behind me and hold my hair so that it was out of my face when I did so. He was such a gentleman, even when I was throwing up; that deserved an award. When I got it all out of my system (literally), rave took my arm and then the rest was a blur. I felt my head go dizzy, like I was about to pass out any minute, like my eyes were where my nose would be and my lips was on my forehead. The world was jumbled up through my sight, and I had no idea what was happening. my consciousness was gone. And everything was blank.

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