Stitches ~ Scömìche

But No Ones Ever Left Me Quite This Sore

Mitch woke up feeling like he had just gone though the wash. His fingers and toes were cold and he ached all over. There was crusted blood around the corners of his mouth and his spit was colored red with blood from when he bit his lip too hard. Mitch rolled over groaning as his joints popped and stumbled over to the toilet, spitting the coppery taste into it. After he was done spitting any trace of the flavor into the toilet, Mitch flushed it and sat down on his haunches, running a hand through his oily hair and rubbing his face, this of course opened a cut that had just crusted over and blood began pouring down over his face. Mitch sat up and leaned his head on the toilet, listening to the steady drip for when blood hits the water.

~

Scott rushed into the room, holding out his hand for Mitch to grasp. Mitch did this and Scott pulled him to his feet before wrapping his arms around him and squeezing tight.

"I'm never letting you go sweetheart, you're never leaving my side ever again," Tears dripping into Mitch's hair and Mitch's own tears soaked through the tank top Scott was wearing. Mitch hugged Scott so hard, never wanted to let go. But as soon as Mitch tried to tighten his grip Scott started to dissolve into a pile of dust.

"No!" Dream Mitch screamed and he stumbled forward, trying to catch Scott as he dissolved, but the dust just slipped right through his fingers and spilt onto the floor. Dream Mitch flung himself over the dust, he grabbed fistfuls of it and he cried, wishing for Scott to be real and wishing for Scott to save him.

All Mitch wanted, even when he slept, was to be saved.

~

Mitch woke up hunched over the toilet, the water in the bowl tinted red. Mitch stood up, flushed the toilet and headed to the creaky bed. He threw himself into it and curled up under the blankets. Mitch wanted nothing more than to cry, but Mitch felt too empty for tears and he wasn't sure he was even able to cry anymore. If he was even capable of any emotion what so ever. And so Mitch lay curled in a ball, willing himself to cry so he could just start to feel human again. But no tears came and Mitch still felt empty. Releasing a sigh Mitch uncurled from his ball of comfort, which did nothing to comfort him, and stretched out on the bed. He groaned as the broken springs poked him in the back, but chose to ignore it and relax on the mattress.
Soon his thought process moved from how empty he was feeling to how hungry he was.
Mitch longed for good food, maybe a pizza, screw that, he'd take handfuls of shredded cheese if he got the choice.
All he was served here was bread, a cup of water that tasted simply like rust, and if he was lucky some jam for the one slice of bread.
Mitch's stomach growled and even though he felt silly doing so, Mitch shushed it.
He curled back up into his ball in the only spot no springs were broken and began to hum himself a lullaby, trying to do anything to take his mind off of how miserable he was.
Mitch switched from the normal, 'Hush Little Baby', he wasn't a child and most defiantly wasn't a baby, to a random song he had heard on the radio. It wasn't quite a lullaby, more like something to keep him occupied in his one of many moments of downtime.
To think of people complaining about having too little of it. Oh what Mitch would give to be able to do something, it could be anything, typing something someone had already written into a computer and he'd gladly do it, in fact Mitch would do it with a smile. You never realize how valuable being busy is until you have so much downtime you can't even work to pass it.
Mitch sighed through his nose, genuinely upset about forgetting the words of that annoying song. The song that everyone gets stuck in their head because of how repetitive it is.
How long had Mitch been in here?