Clinging On (KARLNAP)

Ch 21 "Worn Down Guitar"

TW: Slight gore, Suicide, Sex, drug usage,

Sapnap POV

   A sunny day came through the windows of the house. The smell of a Bath and Body Works' candle of tranquility filled the dark depths around me. The hard wooden chairs barely cupped me but it felt like I was sinking into it.

   I tried to put my feet on the floor that I couldn't see and I dipped my shoe in water. I flex my legs back quickly and I try to get my back off of the chair, it took all my might to pull away from it. I looked at what should be the floor just to realize the it was a murky black liquid that surrounded me.

   I looked up and I noticed a table that wasn't there before. It was familiar, and there sat my prediction of a lit candle on the table. The smell of the candle was drowned by the scent of burnt steak, a metallic smell that lingered in my taste as well.

   All of a sudden a singing voice enters as a family of shadowed figures surrounds the table.

   Only one of the figures was clear to me, and it was my mom with her hair in a slicked back ponytail. She comes to the table with a silver dish in her hand. The silver bowl lid to the dish that hid the food underneath was lifted and there sat a chopped off arm, with blood gushing out of the slits and grooves made into the arm. My mom took a lighter, a silver pocket lighter that's very familiar and lights the rubbery arm on fire like it was covered in gasoline.

   The figures jumped on to the table and the shadows grazed on the huge platter, the sound of sloshing and crunching at the same time.

   I look at my arm and I notice my arm is gone.

    I start to freak out in my seat and a clear arm reaches across me and latches on to my shoulder where my arm is missing. His hands are familiar and saggy and veiny.

    I look at where the arm barricading me in my chair came from; there sat my dad with his gray hair.

    I struggle even more, trying to get up and out of his grasp. My arm had to do double time on work as the munching still sounded and the  burnt meat plagued my nose.

    That's when more weight was added as a figure sits on my lap.

    Karl.

    Karl straddles my lap and he grabs my face with one hand.

    His hand felt like a billion thumbtacks were going into my face.

   He started to shift around, moving his hips to put its full weight on mine.

    Nailed down to the chair by him.

   Once Karl seemingly got comfortable on my lap, his arm came and it held a transparent syringe.

   A syringe I've seen so many times before.

    "If you fucking love me..." he whispered almost seductively mad.

     Karl stuck the syringe into his arm.

     Truly a familiar scene.

      "No! Karl stop it!" I yelled. I struggled like I was strapped in an electric chair about to turn on. I wanted to rip my arm out of the chair's straps. Instead I watched helplessly as the needle probes into the crease of his arm as his tongue lulls out of his mouth. The syringe endlessly pumps into him.

   He picks his tongue back up, "let me live my life!"

     "Karl, I swear! Karl stop! Karl! No!"