Four Vexatious Voices (PTX FANFIC)

two

To the naked eye, it may have appeared that I had no problem with sitting in a room that smelled like Clorox and baby wipes, which would be proven wrong.

The smell of Clorox tingles my nose in the most unsensational way and the nostalgic smell of baby wipes make my stomach ache from bad memories.

The youthful old woman studied me in silence. I moved towards my mother, lifting my chair in her direction and place it down. The woman's lips rose, crow's feet on either side of her face.

"I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?" She asks, leaning back into her seat making her appear much smaller and lean than how she was just seconds ago; big and wide.

I nod, being the only reply I could form. I tapped the denim that comfortably wrapped around my tiny thighs, the blue color being the only thing captivating to look at. It was boring here, there is never anything to do and I rather go home. I want to be home, in my room, hanging with all my friends. No single individual understands my struggle of pulling my friends away from their most comfortable environment -- their home.

I sign allowed with intention of indicating that anything was wrong. I didn't have to because every single living being in this room should know. I want to go home. If I had the energy, I would've left a long time ago.

"Is that accurate, Mitchell? I'm sure your father wouldn't lie to me." Her eyes carving their way into mine with curiosity.

"What?"

"That you talk at unGodly hours in the evening."

"UnGodly? That's our peak of fun time. And you haven't told them yet?" Yellow pipes up, tracing its remnants along the back of my neck.

I yelp, slapping the back of my neck with might, my eyes widening in surprise of the strength I forgot that I had. The way it grazed my neck felt like a deadly sting, causing me to sit up straighter due to this, a shock going through my spine.

"No, I go to sleep at 3 am." I claim, rubbing my denim jeans a few times in process.

"Mitch--" my dad pauses, leaning forward to look past my mother who sat nearest to him. He was on the farthest end of me and I wanted him to stay there.

"Its alright Mr. Grassi. So that's a normal time for you?" She asked. I noticed that she should actually use the third button on her shirt, due to the excessive amount of chest being shown from her skin. I cringed.

"Yes."

My mom put her arm around me, rubbing her hand gently up and down my right arm. I subtly sunk into comfort. She leaned closer to me, whispering something in my ear which I couldn't quite comprehend but I felt Black pick at my scalp.

"So are you going to go? You should. Tell yourself. Leave immediately when you get to the safe place. We can create a better safe place."

I pat my head seven times, the unusually heaviness that laid on top of my head besides my hair, thoughts and beautiful colors.

"So I guess we are done here. I will get more words out of you next time, dear." She points at me with her pen, her mouth frowning making it look more droopy and parched than it already appeared to be. "Ma'am, please make sure he takes his pills. I'm not sure if he's an insomniac as yet but just in case."

At this point Pink decided I should get up and leave. Without warning from my own cognitive reflexes, I get up and leave, my body not being in control on its own. It was a wonderful feeling, I truly do love it. It was stressful controlling my own mind. I made my way through the front of the building, yet again passing by disgusting snotty children with an umpteen amount of germs.