Helium Deflates REVAMPED

It Was Snowing

hm

-

They had awaken with a vigorous turning of their stomach. Laying in bed, they sulked in the cold and empty room. Fists digging into their stomach as they gritted their teeth. Eyes tightening shut as they fixated on the painful grumbling. The yearning of food made them grow tired, yet fully awake. They sat up and hunched over their knees, hugging them tightly to their chest.
They were hungry. They hadn't eaten anything in hours and it was eating away at them slowly.
Frustrated, they tossed their legs over the side of their bed, kicking the sheets away before standing up and sluggishly made their way out the door.
They had of course, felt nauseous. Mouth beginning to water, they moved a fist to their lips and prayed that they wouldn't grow sick. They shook their head and ignored the feeling. Pushing it down.

Finding themselves walking down the hall, they looked down at the carpet once again. The patterns of the rugged carpet were plastered into their mind. Almost like it was trapped into a memory safe. They counted the stripes on the floor.

One,

Two,

Three, four, five, six.

Eleven, twelve.

Thirty,

Fifty.

They were distracted by the counting. Mind scrambled. Yet before they had reached a new number, they noticed a familiar face from the corner of their eyes. Someone was watching them.
Watching them drag their feet down the hall like the bum they were. Watching them weirdly stare at the dirty carpet as they walked. Watching them.
Balloon stared at the person and made eye contact with the man trust stood on the other side of the Hall. Pickle, stood still. In the doorway that had lead to his shared room. He looked at Balloon with a glare, a soda in hand.

" Oh, you scared me. "
Balloon spoke, their voice echoing throughout the hall.

No response.

" .. Uhm. It's nice to see you again, yeah? "
They forced a half smile onto their lips.

Again, no response. All that they were given in return was a nasty filled glare with a snarl.
With a roll of an eye, Pickle walked back into his room and closed the door behind him.
Balloon slowly nodded.

" Good talk. "

Balloon sighed, finding themselves walking back down the hall.
Head down and stared at the carpet once again. Although they hadn't counted the stripes on the carpet, they had something else that was stuck in their head.

Why was it so hard.
Why was it so hard to continue to come back here and look at everyone in the eyes. Why was it so hard to constantly look back at when they competed for that damned prize. Why was it so hard to constantly look for that forgiveness? Why, why, why, why?
The question looped.
What would it have been like if they were better? Better as a person, better as a friend, forgiven, liked.
Their thoughts stretched on, thinking. Imagining.

They imagined the thoughts of coming into the hotel to be met with streamers and a giant sign that hung from the wall. With big giant colorful letters that stretched out the name, 'Balloon'.
They imagined all the voices that would swarm Balloon with not anger but with cheerful, welcoming, smiles. Arms would wrap around their body, hugs. It would be so much different. So much better. So much comfort.
They felt a smile crawl up their face, slowly.

Those thoughts were suddenly yanked away from their grasp, finding themselves bumping into a shoulder of a man.
With a grunt and a loud sigh.

" Seriously man?? "
Trophy grumbled, holding a now empty glass in hand, with the drink splattered onto his shirt.

" Oh jeez — I'm so sorry I wasn't - I didn't — "
Balloon stammered, backing away from him slightly with worried eyes.
" H-here I can get a rag— or- "

" It's fine. "

" ..what? "

" I said, It's fine. Just — go away?? Would you? You already made a mess. " Trophy grumbled, obviously trying to dismiss Balloon out of the room.
But Balloon remained.

" No no- I can go get a towel! A shirt you need a shirt right? "
Balloon's voice rises with fear and worry.

" I said. It's. Fine. Go. Away. "
Trophy gave them a warning. Glaring at them.

" B-but— "

" God, can you not catch a hint and go the fuck away! Jesus Christ! I said it's fine like five times just go away and sit in your lame ass room already! Fuck man. "
Trophy shouted. Then rubbed his temples with a low sigh. Eyes around the room were slowly staring at the two, one by one.
Balloon practically shrunk, hands fiddling with each other whilst their gaze avoided the eyes.

" I'm— sorry— "
Was all they could mutter out.

Trophy inhaled sharply, setting the glass down on the table. Turning to Balloon and jabbed a finger into their chest.

" Listen, I get You're trying to come back from being all 'hated' or whatever but you're making it really fucking hard when you're constantly up other's asses with your half ass apologies. How about you do us all a favor, and just continue being a sad hopeless Balloon and stay in that little cave of yours. Yeah? " Trophy scoffed, flicking Balloon in the nose and turned away.
Balloon stood there. In shock by what just happened. Balloon looked around the room, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. They soon met eyes with Nickel who just smirked in amusement. Turning to Baseball and nudged him before the two retreated into the kitchen.
Balloon felt their eyes begin to water. The tears prickling at their eyes as they felt their feet moving beneath them messily, making their way up the stairs. And to their room were they collided into their bed. Nails digging into their scalp as they pulled their hair. Sobbing. Crying. Letting all their sucked up emotions come all out. Their stomach growled. Still hungry.
The pain. The pain of the damned hunger. The pain in their chest. The pain in their ribs. The pain in their back. The pain everywhere. They just sobbed. Sobbed, and sobbed. They practically gagged. Gagged by how hard they forced themselves to cry. They just wanted to cry. To cry and cry. Hiccuping and whined. They grasped onto a pillow and hugged it. Digging their face into it and just cried.
All they wanted was food. All they wanted was to be held. All they wanted was to be loved. To be liked — to be something. God. It hurt. It hurt to be like this.
Being here was so painful. Being here was like coming back into a painful childhood memory. Being here was torture.
And they hated it.

Balloon laid in their bed. Looking at the window that had thin curtains. Cheeks stained with tears.
They were practically a doll. A doll slouched against the bed uselessly. They stared. Staring out the window as they noticed something.

It was.

Snowing.

Hm.
Snowing.
They stared out at the window, squinting their eyes from their bed. They saw the small white dots sprinkle from the sky. It was strangely comforting.
Snow.
they liked the snow.