Unreal Realities - Creeypypasta x Reader - Book 2

Chappie 7 - You Know What

"Hey." Y/n muttered.

"You look like shit." Bloody Painter plainly said.

"I know." Y/n said softly

The silence that followed signaled Helena that Y/n wished to come in. He moved out of the way of the door. Once she was inside, Y/n noticed that the walls were stained with black hands, faded and old. The carpet was stained with so much color but it couldn't mask the sorrow in the room. There was kicked in paintings on the ground as well as shredded paper. There was an opened closet with a black canvas in front of it which was eerie, especially because of the even darker figure in the middle of the painting.

Helena returned to his desk and continued sketching in silence. Y/n walked over to him and peeked over his shoulder. He was drawing a dead baby robin with sticks surround it. It was so beautifully drawn that even Y/n could tell the baby bird fell out of its nest with no one to catch it. It felt weird standing over him and just watching. Y/n walked over to Helena's bed and sat since there were no chairs. She grabbed her knees with extended arms to keep herself from falling since she was at the very edge of the bed. She watched him sketch, unable to see the picture from the angle she was at.

She didn't want to bother him so she stayed silent. You said the person was supposed to provide attention, assurance, or at least something. You need to be patient. Helena suddenly put his pencil down and looked at Y/n. She looked back without an expression. Helena's blue eyes were calm and plain. This was bonding. This is what Y/n needed. Something this simple, something she hasn't had in a while was everything she need right now. Y/n gave a weak smiled then used a hand to wipe away a stray tear.

Helena walked over to his bed as Y/n hysterically chuckled and cried. But, once she was in his arms, she no longer laughed. Y/n felt extremely liberated of the pain she's felt for a while. It started with not seeing Tommy, then having to stay with the people who don't remember her, then letting her only hope of finding Tommy get away. Now, she was broken, like she's always been, physically and mentally.

Why does it have to hurt so much? Why can't it all just go away? I don't care if I have no death. I don't care if I'm felt in the dark forever. I just don't want to hurt. Seeing everyone over and over, I don't want this. I just want to live with my memories. Happy ones. The first time I ever lived, the one I wished I died in to begin with. I... I...

"I just want this all to stop. I don't want to live anymore." Y/n cried, shoving her face deeper into Helena's chest.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about? Everything I say doesn't matter. You'll never believe me." Y/n wiped her tears, siting up properly instead of tackling him. She hated that. She always has. No one ever believes her...

"I do, (Cp/n)." Helena cooed.

"No you don't! And don't fucking call me that!" Y/n cried. She was hurting so much, she didn't care if she hurt him.

"What do I call you?" He asked calmly, knowing why she was being so cruel.

"Look! I cut it into my skin so I wouldn't forget! That's my name! It's always been my name! See? It's always been there!" Y/n ripped off her sleeve and showed him her arm.

Helena was confused.

There was nothing there.

"Listen, I think you need to rest." Helena said, hoping she wasn't going too crazy.

Y/n shook her head, "No! See? You never believe me! When ever I try to tell you, you never listen! I just want someone to believe me! Please! I need you to... I need someone... No one ever will..."

"I want to believe you."

Helena did. He really did. He tried to. He tried to imagine a world where he couldn't die. Where every time he came back, no one remembered him. He tried to imagine his friends, his family, everyone who he ever cared about forgetting him. But he just couldn't. He couldn't because he knew it wasn't true. It wasn't true.

"No one knows what it's like. You, I loved you Helena. Everything about you. It was just a joke at first. 'Paint me like one of your French girls' I said. It was hilarious. It was silly. But, we ended up connecting. But then... When Judge Angel took me from you, I didn't want to relive it. I couldn't. It hurt. It hurt so much. I told myself you'd be the last one I ever tried to be with. And guess what, I didn't listen to myself.

"I thought it was just because everyone I loved was a creepypasta that it hurt so much. But it wasn't. I had kids with a man named Harold. I loved him so much. We went to school together, from middle school to college, we both were training to be doctors. I just we I couldn't go to school after I got pregnant. I had his child. Her name was Jammie. I loved her so much. And the next one too, and the one after him, and the one after him. My last child was a girl. Four children, Helena. Four.

"We grew old together. Harold and I raised doctors and lawyers. We were so happy. And then we grew too old. He went first. I was so sad that he missed our youngest daughter's first child. But I was still happy because I had a family. When I died, I thought I couldn't leave a better family behind. But when I woke up in the same forest as always, I felt like it wasn't true. I had to believe it was. I had to. Otherwise, all that pain would be for nothing.

"I found Harold in the next life. I wished it were some sappy love story where it was heaven and we got to life the rest of eternity together but it wasn't. I watched him from afar this time. I watched him fall in love with a girl just as he had me. He did all the same things with her. It hurt. I didn't feel special to him after that. I was so angry that right after she had his first child, I killed her. I let my feelings get the better of me. After all, it's not like he even knew who I was.

"I can't care about people anymore, Helena. I can't love. If I do, it will just be another painful experience. It hurts. It hurts to love people. I can't. I can't do it anymore." Y/n had been crying the whole time but after she heard herself say the words out loud, she cried more.

Helena didn't say anything. He couldn't. He couldn't imagine anything like it. Never.

"And my brother, Tommy... I keep telling myself to stop looking. To give up on searching for him because even if I found him, I'd loose him. He'd never remember me the same. And I would look at him differently for it."

"I feel so helpless sometimes. It's so stupid. I feel like I'm a character in a story book that understands everything that's going on but still has to go along with the story, y'know? It's silly."

Y/n didn't know what else to say. Everything hurt. Her head was in so much pain. Her cheeks couldn't stand being wiped over and over by the same shaky hands. The emotional pain drowned out the fact that her stitches had popped a long time ago.

After the story, after the crying, after all of this, Y/n could only look at Helena to see him blankly staring. She was confused. She gently nudged him shoulder.

Then it happened.

He toppled over like a puppet with broken strings.