I'm Sorry- A Slipknot Story

Chapter 60

"I don't like how I'm getting skinnier," I say.

"I can see my fucking ribs. That's not good," I continue. 

I slip on a pair of jeans with a belt and a sweatshirt, hiding the fact that I'm skinnier than a twig. I always had the skinny gene, but never this skinny. I slip on a pair of socks and walk down the stairs, hearing Corey jump up and run down after me. By the time he reaches me, I have my shoes and coat on.

"How did you get down here so fast," he asks, out of breath.

"I pay attention," I say. 

I walk out as he's putting his coat on and Sakari nuzzles her nose on his hand, her way of saying goodbye to the guys. He runs his hand down her back and catches up with me, walking next to me as I go to their studio. I would make drawings there and consult with them to see if they agreed.

"Anything I should make," I ask. I hang up my coat next to Sid's and he hugs me, feeling my ribs.

"What are these," he asks. He keeps feeling them and I get ticklish, taking his hands off.

"They're my ribs. I think you can feel my spine too," I say. The guys all feel my back and they, by the look on their faces, are worried. Especially Corey, like always.

"I hope you're not coming down with something bad," Paul says. I put on a smile and Corey sees right through it, but no one else does. They go back to what they were doing and Corey turns me around, putting his hands on my arms.

"What's wrong," he asks.

"Nothing," I say.

"Seriously, what's wrong," he repeats.

"Seriously, nothing. I'm fine Corey, trust me," I say, putting my hands on his shoulders.

"Are you sure," he asks.

"Corey, if I wasn't sure, I wouldn't've said it," I say. He believes me and goes to the others, all of them starting to work on some songs.

"Might as well get my work done," I say. 

I dig in my coat pockets and find my drawing notebook and pencil, bringing my colored pencils along. I lay on my stomach by the door under the coats and open my notebook, starting with Sid's for number order.

---time skip---

I get done with the masks, but I get bored and draw out their coveralls, making at least 3 different types since they had three before. I keep drawing them and pull my legs to me, bending into where I my feet are in front of my shoulders. Since I'm left handed, I move the paper over to the left side so it's easier to draw. Sid stands up and walks to me, smiling.

"What are you doing," I ask. He says nothing and sits on my knees, one leg on my knees and the other propping himself up.

"Great, now I'm a seat. Well, my knees can hold your weight, but probably not the taller ones," I say.

"But we're the same weight," he says.

"You felt my ribs. I don't think we are anymore. But, I still have the same clothes size," I say.

"You're right. Ooh, what are ya drawing," he asks. I hand him my notebook and he stands, letting me unfold and stand. I do so and stand next to him, flipping to his mask.

"I thought since you liked the open mouth, why not bring that into this era," I say.

"Is this the actual size it's going to be on my face," he asks.

"Yes. The person in this drawing is you. I actually drew everyone then went back and drew the mask on them to get the dimensions right," I say.

"Your mask was the easiest. I just had to draw three circles and erase the places in between them," I add.

"And the teeth," he asks, putting a finger on the teeth.

"What about them? If you're asking why they're there, it's to add something more because I was bored," I say.

"You got the masks done," Jim asks, standing over both of us.

"Yep. Here's yours," I say. 

I flip to his and he smiles, taking the notebook. He walks over to the other guys and sets my notebook on Shawn's percussion set, the guys looking over the masks. Joey walks over to them and jumps up, not being able to see the notebook.

"I don't like being short," he says. I pick him up and put him on my shoulders, holding his feet loosely as they turn to his mask.

"Wow, it's just..." he starts.

'He thinks it's ugly.'

'He thinks it's bad.'

'He doesn't like it. None of them like the masks.'

My face drops and I get the urge to rip the pages apart.

"Perfect. I couldn't have thought of something like this all of my life," he says. I smile but the voices speak louder.

'He's lying.'

'He hates it.'

'All of them hate every single one.'

As they speak, I let Joey down and he squeezes into the front to see better.

'They're going to hate the coveralls, too.'

'They're pretending to like them. They're going to make different masks. Different coveralls.'

I back away from the guys and silently walk out the door. I lean on the wall outside and slide down to sit, hugging my knees to my chest. They're right, they hate them. I could feel it radiating off of them. They're probably thinking about how horrible they are now. Everything in that book is horrible. I'm a bad drawer and I'll never get good.

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Hey you! Have you seen my mind? I can't find it. It might be with the many, many story ideas I have, it may be with the endless hours I'm listening to Slipknot and KoЯn and many more bands, it may even be with my social life outside of school. In the trash with ability to run!

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you guys that I appreciate the time you spend reading this... whatever this is. It may not be as comical to you if at all, but it puts a smile on my face.