Interesting (AfterDeath)

Chapter 16

~~~~~~~~~~

Geno P.O.V

By the time I had reached Ink's office, my tears had dried, and my breathing had slowed considerably. I took a deep breath before pushing the door open, not even bothering to knock.

"Ink," I called, peeking my head around the door. Ink's head whipped up to look at me. When he saw my face, he paled, dropped his pencil, and stood.

"Geno, I-" I cut him off with an abrupt hand gesture, a bitter smile plastered onto my face.

"Why didn't you warn me?" I asked, stepping into the room, voice quiet, and husky from crying. Ink winced, though not noticing my hoarse voice.

"Uh... Sorry?" He said questioningly, smiling sheepishly.

"That isn't an answer," I rumbled, frowning at the broken sound of my voice.

"I thought that you'd be fine; you had Stretch with you," he claimed after a short pause. I wrapped my arms around myself tightly, looking away as I spoke.

"Stretch had to go to a meeting," I stated softly. Ink's eyes widened, and he took a half step towards me.

"So... You were alone?" He whispered, only just loud enough for me to hear. I hesitated, then gave a small nod, arms tightening around myself, tears pricking at my eyes. Ink raised an arm, then dropped it.

"What did he do to you?" Ink queried, voice gentle. I paused for a long while, then leant heavily against the closed door, closed my eyes, and sighed heavily.

"Nothing," I lied. Lies came easily after so many years of practice - maybe too easily. "I would have appreciated some warning though..." Ink breathed a sigh of relief, obviously buying my lie - just like so many times prior. He gave a small smile.

"Yeah, I'll make sure to do that next time," he divulged. I frowned slightly.

"There's gonna be a next time?" I asked. Ink's eyes widened, and he squeaked in protest.

"No!" He exclaimed hastily. He then smiled apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, then went on. "I mean- hypothetically. If there - hypothetically - was a - hypothetical - next time, I would - hypothetically - warn you." I gave a slight sigh of relief, and a soft smile at the number of 'hypotheticals' that Ink had inserted in his sentence.

"Oh. Okay," I said, softly - so as not to aggravate my throat any further. Ink gave me a crooked half smile.

"Glad that's settled. You can go home now- if you want; the day is pretty much over," he informed. I nodded, and turned to face the door.

"I'll do that, bye Ink," I called over my shoulder.

"Bye Geno!" He responded, just before the door clicked shut. I sighed, then started trekking down the long hallways, internally begging not to run into Reaper, throwing false smiles to passing cops, waving when they waved, nodding when they nodded.

It was the same on the streets as I walked past people I knew; people I passed every day as I walked to and from the prison. Same false smile, forced waves, and tense nods.

But, as soon as the door of my house clicked shut behind me, the smile fell, my eyesight blurred, and I fell to my knees. I wrapped my arms around myself, and just sobbed. Huge, uncontrollable sobs that racked my body, and left me without any air to breathe.

My dulled eyes flickered around the small house; to the couch, to the dining table, to the kitchen. I remembered all the times that Classic and I had spent here; lazing about on the couch, limbs entangled, stealing kisses from the other, eating home cooked meals with copious amounts of ketchup piled onto our plates, cooking a quiche with his arms wrapped around me from behind.

Then Classic coming home, drunk and high, pushing me onto the couch, hands trailing up and down my body as I begged him to stop, him barking orders, screaming at me, hitting me whenever I disobeyed him, leaving marks that would stick around for weeks after, some that never fully went away.

I shut my eyes tightly, hoping that if I just wished hard enough, all the memories of him would disappear - good and bad.

I wished for at least some of the pain to leave. Not even for happiness, just for a little less emotional torture.

I wished I could go back in time, change everything.

Wishes were futile, though.

I had learnt so a long time ago.

I curled in on myself even further, tears streaking my face, throat raw, occasional sobs racking my body, memories flashing through my head as if on repeat, emotions slowly dying.

'I can't do this. I just can't.'

Hours into the night, I finally fell into an uneasy rest, only to wake from a nightmare hours later, screaming brokenly, shaking uncontrollably, muscles stiff from sleeping on the floor, vocal cords shattered.

I whimpered softly as I stood shakily, and made my way to the bathroom, hoping to clean myself up enough to be presentable for the coming day. I stretched, and looked disapprovingly down at my rumpled, tear stained, dust streaked uniform that I hadn't changed out of the previous day.

I sighed, and pulled down my sleeves, trying to fix my clothes as best I could without an iron. I just frowned when nothing to great effect happened, ran a hand through my tousled hair, and walked out of the bathroom swiftly, rubbing my eyes tiredly.

I grabbed an energy drink from my fridge, and started out of the house, sipping the drink slowly. It did absolutely nought to heighten my energy levels, or to fix the seemingly ever present tiredness, but it was nice to have something in my system.

As I walked along the sidewalk, I faked smiles, forced waves, and nodded to the passerbys, just like I did every day. The passerbys smiled back, waved back, nodded back, but it was all empty in a way that I couldn't describe. My gaze drifted to the looming prison, and I continued towards the uninviting structure, throwing the empty energy drink in a nearby trash can.

Just another scar to add to the collection.

Just another near-sleepless night.

Just another fake smile.

Just another shift.

Just another day.

Just another lie.

~~~~~~~~~~

Yay. Depression -.-