Why Are You Making Me Remember?

5.6K 169 207
                                    

You didn't really care where You wound up, You just needed to escape your inevitable crash of embarrassment. Even if it was in a flurry of shivering bones and fluttery butterflies.

You, being you, tripped over nothing in the middle of Ballora Gallery, and face planted- straight into said ballerinas ample chest.

Now, this wouldn't be very unfortunate in any other situation because you were bi, but after your previous encounter you were pretty flustered.

"A-ah! Uh, I'm so-"

Ballora shut you up by wrapping her long, slender arms around your body and spinning around. "What's the hurry? Why the rush?" Her smooth voice washed over you like dark chocolate, and you found yourself replying instantly.

"Bonnie and... Freddy."

You were actually sliding right into the slow waltz Ballora had dragged you into, following her expert movements with your own. You had actually taken dance classes for half your childhood and then early into your teen years. You were voted 'Most likely to dance' in your school yearbook. Some wiseguy had tacked on 'into a whorehouse' at the end, sure, but the original spirit still resonates with you.

Ballora didn't bother with asking further questions, and for that you were thankful. She swung you outwards, and you pirouette on one toe with your dance partner twirling you by the arm.

She pulled you back into her chest, and the two of you twirled. Eyes closed, Ballora began to softly hum, a song you were oddly familiar with.

You found yourself softly singing along to her humming. "Why do you hide inside your walls-"

"-when there is music in my halls?" Ballora's voice softly finished.

You suppressed a smile as you continued. "All I see is an empty room. No more joy, an empty tomb."

Ballora twirled you again, voice lilting elegantly along. "Oh, its so good to sing all day."

"To dance," you replied, completing the twirl to emphasize the lyric. "To spin, to fly away."

Ballora, eyes still closed, lowered her tone an octave. "Is someone there? Is it time for the show?" Something about that line in particular... Didn't sit quite right with you. "Is somebody there? Creeping through my room? Up upon my stage, which feels more like a tomb-"

"-No," you whispered alongside her, your combined voices seeming so much louder than before in the empty auditorium. "Perhaps... not."

Balloras eyes snapped open. She tilted her head at you, and your dance slowed to gentle swaying.

"How do you know... those songs?"

You hummed thoughtfully. "Well... my real mother, she used to sing that to me and... someone, long ago." You smiled sadly. "Before she died, that is."

Ballora said nothing for a short moment. Then, "And the other one?"

"Which one?"

"The one You were singing earlier. In the elevator?"

You stiffened slightly. "Oh. That."
You looked away. Your cheeks felt slightly inflamed. "I... actually don't really know. I suspect my mother sang it around the house, you know when she was angry, because that's when I can faintly recall hearing it."

Again, Ballora nodded. You noticed the two of you had stopped dancing.

Ballora looked like she was about to say something, but the loud chime of the six a.m bell interrupted her. Her arms fell from your waist.

"Save me a dance for another day, perhaps." She murmured, slowly dancing towards her stage.

---

In the elevator, on the way home, hell even in your bed, you felt incredibly spaced out. You were lucky to even make it home without crashing.

You would occasionally be assaulted with random clippings of random memories. Words, phrases, but never a complete sentence.

Lying on your back and staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes, you were struck with a sudden memory.

"C'mon, (Nickname)! Daddy's busy, let's go see Baby!"

"She's so pretty and shiny, I wonder why Father never lets us play with her?"

"Who knows, (Nickname)? She's wonderful! And Is that ice cream?"

"Uh, Lizzie, where did all of the kids go? Are you sure it's, you know, safe? What if Father actually has a good reason to keep us away...?"

"Nonsense! She's even offering it to me! I'm going over!"

"Uh, Lizzie, wait! Lizzie no! Elizabe-!"

You shot up with a sharp gasp, sweat pouring from your body in waves. You glanced at the clock. 7:53.

You fell back into the hot bed. You replayed the voices back in your head, slowed them down, sped them up. The pairs smooth British accents, so much like your own, the screaming, the pain, were stuck in your head. You couldn't fall asleep, not that night. So instead you just lay there, stiff and sweating, wondering what the hell you'd just seen.

Fuckin' Crazy (Funtime Freddy X Reader) ✅Where stories live. Discover now