Red Looks Better On Liars- Schlatt X Quackity

28 ~ World's Best End

My hand grazes the varnish, pulling the unfinished documents from the pile. It was a bizarre experience to behold. Something about the idea of moving always made my stomach churn. Maybe it was the fear of leaving something I've come so accustomed to, or it was the fact that all the memories that were made would be demolished along with the building. I hated it.

The sun shimmers onto the paint as I pull the sheets from my desk, place them into their corresponding boxes, packing them swiftly into the corner. I was planning on just organizing everything first, then afterwards throwing stuff out. Moreover, I much preferred this style of cleaning, rather than just dumping every little thing, your mind is more focused on what you really want to keep.

From my office chair, I open the desk drawer. My eyes skim across the different objects that lay in there. Pens, pencils, staplers, and just a slew of random objects pass my mind. What really caught my eye was the abundance of pill bottles, just precariously abandoned. I quickly grab them, eyeing the dosage. Woah?

These were so strong for what they were. I was taking 18 mg of Lexapro. That's insane. I pull another from the drawer, reading it again. Once again, some crazy dosages. Maybe this was why I was super depressed. I was feeling withdrawn.

I grab onto the many bottles in my drawer, tossing them perilously toward the basic direction of a box. Didn't care enough to go through them today. If I were to take one at this very instant, I would likely have a heart attack right there. That was the last thing I wanted. Or was it...?

I continue through the vast of whatever was in front of me. The office I was placed in wasn't very big at all. It had a desk and a shelf. A 'coat rack' if you'd even call it that too I guess. I wasn't too sad about leaving this office, more of leaving the memories in it. I had been working here since I could remember. Presumably 7 or so years? My recollections were blurred up to this point.

I sit back for a second, just looking at all the items that I had yet to pack. This probably would take an hour, if that.

I continue to pull out various... questionably legal items from my desk. I found a perfectly rolled blunt, along with many unnamed pills. It was debatable if weed was legal here, honestly. During Wilbur's rule, I knew it definitely was. He isn't ruling any more, though, so who's to say? Despite this, I still sneaked it into my pocket. I wasn't about to waste a perfectly good blunt. 

A stingy, musty smell crawls from my desk, leading my eyes toward what it could be. I had smelt it for a while, yet I just couldn't figure out what it was. It smelt like mould, which meant, whatever it was, probably moulded. 

I tossed whatever it was in the dustbin to my left, a putrid smell looming from the said bin. I sit back in my chair, leaning back into the fake brown leather. It was bizarre to think that in the coming weeks, I may never see this place again. A place that I've almost spent all of my life in, suddenly being taken away. I simply cannot wrap my head around it. 

I glance out the window, eyes dragging across the horizon. What time was it? It looked to be about noon, but truly I couldn't tell. I look down at the office space around me, everything I wanted in a single box in the corner. This was all I needed. Everything else in here was useless. It could be demolished with the building. My favourite coat rack? Useless. My coffee machine? Useless. Everything in here is useless. 

Useless, Useless, Use-...

Except one thing that lay alone on the corner of my desk.

A little white mug with large black lettering on it. My eyes feel heavy as I stare blankly. Karl. I move toward the cup, my mind gone quiet and my body gone still. I pick up the glass mug, a heavy feeling dragging it down. A really heavy feeling. Had I left coffee in it? No. I surely would smell it. I lift the cup completely off the desk, looking down into the mug with confusion plastered on my expression.