Red Looks Better On Liars- Schlatt X Quackity

51 ~ Eeny Meeny Miny Hoe

Tw:----->

My throat itches, as if I were trying to vomit. I scrunch my nose, turning over in my bed. I throw one arm across my chest, trying to find the pillow that was not under my head. The other hand rests on my mouth, to coax my body down from vomiting. No clue where it was. To find there was no pillow, as a matter of fact, no blanket either. It was cold. Not on a bed.

I jolt upward, the world around me coming to a halting stop. It was a feeling best described as a bad trip. Almost foggy, before the world catches up to me, hitting me directly in the eyes. I groan, both hands instead going to my head, holding on as the migraine from hell hits me.

I shouldn't have woken up. 

    "Fuck." My words reverberate through my brain but are almost muffled through the pain. Nausea hits me harder though, harder than the initial migraine. I can't stand, but crawl. My 'bed' was made on the nice carpet in a random room. Where was I? Even better, where could I go to vomit? 

Light shimmers through a window, as if it were an angel from heaven.

My knees feel raw with carpet burn as I drag myself toward the window, my haven. I couldn't get through it but could get some fresh air. Maybe even throw up. 

The glass is hard to open, but finally, I manage it. I grip the window sill, lifting myself. It was hard, but I did it. 

The cold air hits my face once I get my head out of the glass. It feels almost enjoyable. Then the nausea comes back. Full force, it hits. 

I retch, the force pushing my face forward and further out into the world. I vomit directly out of this window, landing on the icy snow beneath. Grass could be seen peaking through the snow, showing the snow hadn't stuck all that well. A sign this hellish winter is finally ending.

A door creaks open behind me, eyes burning into the back of my skull.

    "Schlatt. I get you're tryna act all mysterious n' shit, but if you don't stop putting me in these random fucking rooms, I'm going to lose it." I growl, not daring to turn around to see him. He must have put me in another one of his hidden rooms. Fuck him. "I'm serious. The first two times, whatever, but the third, really?" 

    "Uh." A woman drones. I tense, whipping my head around, and wiping the puke from my lips. Niki stares at me, eyebrows drawn into a concerned line. "I'm-- Huh?"

I stare back, just as confused. "How-- What. Where? Am I in your house?" 

    "Yeah," She clicks her tongue, holding a cup of something. "You are."

We don't speak for a second, both trying to understand what the other said. 

    "Okay pause, what." She breaks the silence, shaking her head and waving her hands. "What." 

    "What do you mean?" I ask, eyes wide. "Oh no, don't tell me I broke into your house."

    "No, not that." She chuckles nervously, "The hell do you mean the first two times?"

I cross my arms. "Don't ask me! That's your brother-in-law, I should be asking you."

    "Aren't you guys like, I don't know, married?" She gasps, gesturing toward my hand. My eyebrows drew together, looking at where she was looking. We weren't married.

    "No. . . We're not." I speak slowly, finally noticing what she was pointing at. The ring. The blue ring. I take it off my hand, looking at it. "Wait. Is that why people think I married him?"