Red Looks Better On Liars- Schlatt X Quackity

45 ~ Snitches Don't Get Bitches

back to my boy quackity 

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The animal struts out of my room, hurried. I say nothing. In fact, I smile. I know what the animal is trying to do. It's trying to snitch, however it believes it can. 

Schlatt approaches eventually, hesitantly, opening my door. I give a virtuous smile, eyeing the animal at his feet. 

     "Mrow," It hums. Knowing now, it explains why its chirps felt so fake. Because they are fake. That's not a cat. 

It rubs on Schlatt's calf before approaching my bed, pawing at my mattress. The man's eyes linger on where the cat was, transferring to mine skeptically. I can't help the grin that comes to my face. This stupid cat.

    "I think he wants on your bed," He speaks slowly, eyes narrowed in confusion. I shrug. 

    "I guess," I hum. He turns his back but stops, eyes falling short of mine. 

    "You don't have t' just stare at walls, I have books." His lips curl, disturbed. I scare him. 

    "No," I say gruffly, glaring up at him from my bed. 

He lets out a gust of air from his lips, crossing his arms. "And I hear you talking to yourself. You do know all you have to do is come to my room. I'll listen to you."  

    "But I don't want you to listen," I say slowly, as if it were a preposterous thing to offer. "In fact, I want you to die." 

Schlatt doesn't respond, but his lips fall to an O. He's speechless for the moment, searching for words. He doesn't find words, but one. "Yikes." 

He lets out a scoff, a soft grin coming to his face. "Wow. You're really just an asshole." 

    "Yeah," I respond bluntly, glancing at my cuticles. I really needed to cut my nails. "Can you leave now? Take the cat too."

He narrows his eyes, leaning in my doorway. "What's your problem?" 

My eyes drag up his form, briefly looking him in the eye before shrinking away. I was making him mad. Good. Make him mad. Make him hate me as much as I hate him.

    "There's a list, but you stand at the top." I put down my hand, giving him a look I'd normally give dog shit. Disappointment. 

    "Okay, whatever. Just tell me why." He growls, getting from his perch and entering my room, closing the door behind him. The cat stands triumphant, settling comfortably beside the closed door. "Why do you hate me? I have given you unconditional love. And you treat me like actual shit. I feel like this would classify as some sort of mental abuse."

I stand now, simultaneously taking a step back. My eyes shrink and I my eyes drop to his hands. I needed to be strong, I needed to be big. To show him that I ain't no pussy.

     "So really, tell me." His voice is low now, tilting his head down to my level, leaving us so close I feel the heat on his breath as he speaks. "What's your fucking problem."

I lean upward, closing the gap. I swallow the knot forming in my throat, then whisper. "You."

He grips my throat, slamming me against the wall behind me. I cough the wind from my lungs-- wheezing, and sputtering. Bits of spit (?) splatter on my lips; leaning my head back as if to make room, but instead end up just pushing myself harder against the wood. Harder into the corner I find myself in.

He gives one last squeeze around my neck before throwing me to the ground. I rag doll down, curling inward on myself when I hit the hardwood. It feels cold, then hot with adrenaline. I struggle to stand, but he kicks me right back down.