(Pic is of some characters im designing for the future. Dont question it.
sophie hayley drena kate and meg belong to me.)
Chapter 17 - Oliver
Russel had stopped coming to class five days ago, thats all oliver knew.
The door to Russels room was locked, and he couldnt count the hours he spent reasoning at that door, only for silence to respond.
When he had last seen Russel, he had been worse, a monochrome mess, barely a twinge of sky on him at all.
His eyes were the worst.
Grey, moving, things, like pencil sketches of pure agony.
But still. When he had last seen Russel, he had been worse in another way.
He yelled, he screamed, he told oliver all the things that he knew would hurt him.
In front of the whole school.
He didnt want people knowing some parts of himself.
But now people had started ignoring him, calling him things behind his back.
He was not an admired, beautiful blue, now he was an outsider.
But still he would talk to the door.
"T-today in class, Mr Beryl was talking about the essay we are working on, a-and i let him know you wern't there. S-so heres the homework, ill leave it by the door.."
He set the worksheets down next to the ever growing pile of homework and mail.
"I.. I really miss you Rus." He said, wiping his face.
But the door stayed closed.
(Fun fact, Beryl is another shade of blue!)
Chapter 18 - Eugene
As he boarded the train, he lifted Grey in behind him, he thought about seeing his friends again, about showing them what had been in the grey-room the whole time.
About the world in there.
About how organized it was.
About the little grey man.
They got in, and grey pressed a button, lighting up the now orange train, and the metalic, light wings, began to FLAP.
He let out a startled yelp as they started rising into the air shakily, grey looking concentrated as he maneuvered the train from over Eugenes shoulder.
They both began moving up, watching as the world below was absorbed by shadows.
No wonder they never knew it was down there.
Chapter 19 - Russel
Everything hurts.
Its all shaky.
I hear him talking to me, but when i try to speak all that comes out is gibberish.
My mouth bleeds together as colors and lines become a more blurred picture.
Im not me.
I should have put the mistakes away.
But its hurting me.
At one point i must have locked the door, the monochrome slime that leaks from me leaving marks on the handle, making it burn like acid to the touch.
Hissing, i pull back, it comes out as a gurgle, i cant speak.
I open my mouth to scream.
Its shut
Its shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shutIts shut
Why cant i breathe?
why dont i need too?
I try and call out, knocking on the door.
I hear him screaming as he manages to find the spare key and come in.
I reach.
And then im not there.
