WARNING: CUSSING AND (POSSIBLE) DISTURBING THEMES AHEAD!
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"Honey? C-could you please come over h-here f-for a moment?"
A pair of slightly calloused feet padded into the kitchen, following the source of the trembling voice.
Innocent, forever shining, (e/c) gems looked up to see her mother's face. The older woman's brows were creased upwards in concern and frantic worry- the latter, she failed in hiding.
What made the girl's eyes glaze over in boredom was how one of her mother's hands were balled into a tight fist. Her knuckles were paled from exerting pressure onto the piece of paper scrunched inside her curled fingers.
"What part of 'don't go into my room' do you not understand?" she sighed, outstretching a hand, "Give it back."
Her mother's frown became more apparent, along with the visible wrinkles on her face.
"Why didn't you... say anything?"
"Mum, please, don't even start. You don't deserve to know why."
"Sweetie-"
"Sugar-coating isn't gonna solve anything. Don't try it. Now, give it back," the girl demanded in a monotone voice,
completely ignoring her mother's silent tears dripping down her grief-stricken face.
"Dear, let me explain-"
"Explain what?" the daughter finally snapped, causing her mother to flinch in surprise at her burst.
"Explain how you two made me go see a fucking psychiatrist? Explain how you both thought I went cuckoo in the head? Explain how you both thought about how you produced a fuck-up for a daughter?!" She screamed, steaming waves anger radiating off her body and surging towards the very woman who forced her into the cruel world.
Her mother gasped and sputtered, rivers now soaking her cheeks and chin.
"Please, don't talk like that. We- oh God, I swear we only wanted what was best for you! You're not... what you say."
"Oh, please! You saw the results for yourself, that right? How I'm 'mentally unstable'?" she questioned incredulously, looking away from her mother, unable to look her in the eye.
Silence thickened after that, tension stayed strong.
"I... I'm-" the girl sighed once more, holding back tears of her own.
"That's so unfair, Mum," she smiled ruefully, "I should be the one crying."
The girl sniffed, slowly walking out of kitchen, her shadow disappearing after her exit.
"Not you."
A few moments after her leave-taking, a loud outburst of sobs didn't fail to reach her ears.
It was confusing; her ears' everyday function in passing on information to the brain, for some reason and in that moment, failed her.
She didn't know who the cries belonged to.
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Your POV
"I apologise on their behalf," the blue masked man began with that baritone voice of his and your ears found it oddly pleasing. "As Slender's most favoured proxies, I figured they'd have some more sense than anyone else in our residence. But from seeing this..." he trailed off, having finished wrapping the bandage around your neck delicately, he swiftly moved himself away from you.
"Um... thanks," you said shortly, unable to say anything else. It hurt to talk.
This man's mysterious demeanour seemed to highlight a cold aura around him. How his mask looked so simple made those dark pits stand out, and somehow, whenever he 'looked' in your direction, you felt like a deer caught in the headlights-- of a truck.
YOU ARE READING
Dearth // Masky X Reader X Hoodie
Korku[Slightly dark] Soothing nostalgia consisting of starry nights, sweet laughter and euphoria ever so barely tamed your mind, yet also worsened your state; they created and neglected queries. Were they even real to begin with? Bloodbath-lovers freely...
