Various Vocaloid One-Shots

Unseeable

Type: Vocaloid x Vocaloid

Main Characters: Miku, Len

Author's Note: I am sorry this is so strange, confusing and bizarre. I don't know what I was trying to achieve in this one-shot but suffice it to say, I failed in every respect. I don't even know what this is or why I wrote it. All I can say it, I am very, very sorry for writing such a horrid Miku x Len one-shot. I promise I will write a better one soon.

Also, apologies in advance for rampant spelling errors. I WILL FIX THEM SOON and if you point them out, it'd save me some time. :3

~~~~~

"Salt is at five."

My mother's voice is soft and comforting. She must have a face that matches, I tell myself. When I hear her call, it comes from my right. I map out the table in my head, like I've been doing for the past sixteen years, and reach forward, you could say, blindly, for the salt shaker.

"Thank you," I nod. I heard a soft giggle. It's my mom again.

"It's getting dark, Miku," she says.

I want her to describe it, the colours of the sky, the hands on the wall clock, but I don't ask. She doesn't like it when I speak about things like that. She's never said it outright but I can tell by the tone of her voice. I wish I could say that her body language tells me, but to be honest, I've never been able to read a person's body language or facial expression. I've gotten used to it. Not like I know what I'm missing, anyway.

"Okay," I answer, rubbing my fingers against my plate. It's warm and smooth. My mom removed it from the dishwasher just before dinner time.

"Do you want to finish your food?"

"No."

I press my palms against the slightly splintered and chapped wood table and get to my feet. My joints creak slightly. I don't take enough care of myself, but I don't want to be taking meds all the time. It makes my mom angry, or disappointed, at least.

She says she has teal hair but how can I believe her? I don't even know what 'teal' is.

"Miku, is something wrong?" She asks, interrupting my thoughts. I let my hands slip off of the table and take a few steps across the carpet, making dull thudding sounds as I step.

"No," I say, lying. The voices are in my head and I don't want to tell her that I haven't been taking the pills the doctor prescribed to me last week. "I'm going to my room."

It's easy to lie to my mother. I never have to meet her eyes because I don't know where she is looking and she doesn't expect me to make eye contact. I don't like lying but I don't like taking medications all the time, either. The voices in my head aren't so bad. The pain in my legs is bearable, and everyone knows that there is nothing that can be done about my sight. I rub my feet across the carpet and my toes hit the cold wood of the stairs. I reach up for the handrail and slowly climb.

"Miku!" The voice sounds like my mother's but I can't be sure. That's the great thing about hearing things; I get to hear people who aren't there. Voices get warped and I enter a world where I am not the person I normally am. "Someone is here to see you!"

"Mom!" I yell from the top of the stairs.

"Yes, honey?"

"Who's here?"

"Why, nobody, darling."

"Okay."

It's the voices, after all. My lips curl into a small smile. I have real life friends but I always seem to be able to interact better with the ones that live inside of me.