18:00

20 : Two Witnesses

Trophy rested his hands on his window ledge, his body motionless outside of his chest rising and falling with his breath. His hand grabbed at the surface beneath them, but there wasn't much to grab onto.

There was no way this was real. This wasn't happening, Trophy wasn't witnessing this. He tried to ground himself, but his hands only slipped on the flat surface of the ledge. The air felt a lot colder than it actually was. As he watched the vial he had been told so many times no longer existed walk across the lawn, the beating of his heart suddenly felt as if it was pounding against his rib cage.

This was a hallucination. It had to be. Yeah, nobody had told him he hallucinated anything in his diagnosis, but there wasn't another explanation Trophy thought he could handle. He rubbed his eyes, but the scene was still out the window, clear as day despite the darkness of the night. Test Tube, walking across the field with Mephone4 behind her and Lightbulb caught at her side.

How would his mind be able to make something like this up though? If his psychosis was an attempt by his brain to protect him, how would a sight like this help him in the slightest? Trophy didn't know what to do, how to respond.

In a split second of slight rationality, he grabbed his camera off his desk beside him. Cameras couldn't catch hallucinations, he knew that at least. He powered the digital camera on and lifted it to the window.

Before Trophy could take a picture, Test Tube was gone. He scanned over the grass, but he couldn't find anything besides greenery. Fuck, of course she was gone. He mumbled something incoherent under his breath as he set his camera back down.

He thought he was getting better. That he was improving, that he was learning what was real and what wasn't. Turns out that was just some false fantasy.

Had Test Tube been there or not? Trophy continued looking out the window, looking for any sign she might've been there, but found nothing in the pitch black of the lawn.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He took a couple steps back, letting his arms drop to his side. None of that had been real, had it? Or was it real, and he was just convinced he wasn't? God, if only it was easier to tell.

...Well, maybe someone else saw?

"Tissues, are you awake?" Trophy asked, looking over at his roommate's bed.

"Huh?" Tissues mumbled, gently stirring in his bed. Trophy sighed, turning back around.

"Nevermind, don't mind it." Trophy said, turning back away. Tissues nodded, still delirious with sleep. If Tissues was too tired to properly understand anything, then it'd be shocking if he managed to see anything out the window. Trophy wouldn't bother asking if Tissues wouldn't know anything.

He walked back over to his desk. His eyes wandered to the orange bottle, simply sitting there with its childproof cap. Barely thinking, he grabbed it with his slightly shaky hands.

It took a couple tries, but he squeezed the cap off. He poured two of the pills onto the palm of his hand. Or maybe it was three? He couldn't quite see in the darkness of the room, but he didn't care.

He tossed the medication into his mouth, swallowing it dry. It scratched uncomfortably against his throat on its way down. He placed the bottle back down, but kept the cap off. His hands almost spilled more of the medication with how much they shook.

...He couldn't think properly. His mind had that strange feeling where it felt like his thoughts were racing and crashing into each other like trains. But he wasn't thinking a single thing in reality. It was just a strange feeling going off in his head, as he couldn't get a single coherent thought to pop up.