Catharsis of the lilies (William Afton x Reader)

Chapter 2, The Taps That Follow

(Quick A/N: Okay sorry but like pay attention to quotes from books that characters say aloud. as it may symbolize something for the future.

Also, trigger warning for mental health issues, depression, anxiety, drowning, and just dark topics in general.

end of a/n)

*tap*

*tap*

*tap*

"What in the everloving fuck was that" I muttered, swiftly sitting up from my bed to go check out the area. I checked out the window. Nothing was there,  I checked down the hall, nothing was there. I looked around in every possible area and nothing was to be seen.Maybe it was just in my head, again. I think it's probably because my mental health has been getting worse lately, so that might be why I'm hallucinating more than I usually do. I'll need to book another appointment with a counselor or a therapist. I inhaled sharply and entered my room once again, pulling a book from the bookshelf and began to read. I put on some music, loud enough to where I wouldn't notice any kind of taps anymore. It's not like the taps are a problem, considering it's all in my head, right?

"Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand" I read a quote from Macbeth aloud, also known as the Scottish play. It's said that if you say the name of the Scottish Play before some kind of play or production, things are destined to go wrong, which could end in actors getting sick, injured or even dead. Superstitions have always been intriguing to me, especially like the "ritual" games such as The Midnight Man or Red Door, Yellow Door. Of course those things interest me, however i'm not dumb enough to actually try those games since they are said to be VERY real. Same thing with a ouija board, I refuse to lay a finger on one of those fucking things.

I read a good 40 pages before deciding to shut the book I had been reading, and put it back on the shelf. I turned off the music and then the lights. I walked back over in complete darkness trying to find my bed. The place I love yet hate the most. As comfortable as it is, it's hard to get up in the morning. I spend a good half an hour to 2 hours trying to find the motivation to get up and to live the life I never asked for, or want to continue living. But then again, I want to make the best life for myself possible even at a rough start and the only way I'll do that is by meeting new people, trying new things and finding new hobbies. I reached my hands out, searching for the feeling of soft silk around me in an attempt to find my bed.

Found it.

I sat down, finding the ends of the blanket and got under the covers, pulling them over my body as I moved around, trying to find a comfortable position to rest. It was quiet. Maybe I shouldn't have turned off the music, It's too quiet. I should get a hold of Ayana if she's still awake. But then again I don't want to be a bother considering she probably already hates putting up with me anyway. She probably hates me and is planning to leave me any second from now. Maybe I should contact her. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I'll start hating her first because she's probably going to leave me either way, and if she does leave, doesn't try to contact me and full on abandons me then she's proving me right. But then again. I adore her, I can't bring myself to hate her. I need her. But then again, she's planning on fucking leaving me, I bet. I'm probably too much to handle. I'm probably draining to her, aren't I. I hate this, I'm getting pissed off over the same things over and over and over again. Why should I even try to take care of myself, I don't even deserve to be cared for considering all I am viewed as, is a tool; something to make others look good. As if I only exist for the pleasure and excitement of others, always serving others. I'm merely a tool, nothing more.

Everyday I feel this hole in my chest and it just gets deeper as the sensation of "emptiness" grows and spreads. But then again, my own mood swings are so abrupt and random that it feels as if I'm getting whiplash from it, in consideration that I am unable to pull myself out of that emotion due to forgetting how any other emotions feel because of how intense the sensation is. Hell, I can't even tell if I genuinely love anyone or not or if I'm just clinging to them because I have nobody else, because my world revolves around that person. Everything about me revolves around them; from my personality to how I dress myself to how I talk and so on. It's hard to tell if I genuinely love someone because I was raised into thinking the only way I can be loved is by getting into a relationship, so because of that I force myself to like and love the person who had only showed me the most minimal ounce of kindness and attention because I lack and crave the feeling of being loved, like how a starving wolf craves for food, like how a starving vampire craves for blood.