Lovely Obsession

Desperation

Blake

Sophie was practically sprawled over the bed. Her back heaved high with each heavy breath, her eyes shut. Dry tear stains were on her cheeks. Her hair was a bit tangled, going under the thick blanket above her. 

It's been nine days since Sophie got sick, nearly thirteen since I brought her in and started to take care of her. She was healthy again, no more fits of short breaths and sneezes and coughs.  

Sophie and Tristan's disappearance hadn't lost it's heat yet, it seems. Usually they'd be near a give up at this point. But no. It was still heated, they were still obsessed with it.

They're being too obsessive of my poor little Sophie. Poor Sophie, being targeted like this.

Sophie's been acting much more calm lately. Not as much outbursts or sobbing. Well, she did cry. She cried a lot. But she never wept. At night, I'd notice tears on her face. When she'd cry, I hug her for a long time. But she never wept. As soon as I'd wrap my arms around her, she'd go still, only sniffling occasionally.

"Hey," I'd say, "It's okay."

She'd nod.

She was quiet. Very quiet. She'd hardly utter a sound. I keep reminding her, "It's okay to speak, Sophie. Say whatever you like." and "What're you thinking?"

She never makes clear sentences.

I never had to punish her. The punishment room, she hasn't been in there again. She's been behaving so well, despite being beyond quiet. I have no reason to punish her in any way.

Sophie's been spending the time reading and drawing. That's it. She keeps her sketches in the attendance office's back tray, under a desk.

When she's asleep, I go and take a closer took at them.

Bodies. No, corpses. They're strewn about a building, most in piles. The building appears to be...

... The school.

I went through the rest of the pictures.

Most were generic. Piles of corpses around something. A school, a home. And in one sketch, the bodies were surrounded by a cage, a bird inside of it.

There was other pictures, of the same cage and bird. The bird was locked in the cage, and a chain hanging on a bar was leading to no where. 

Sophie took the same sketch one day and placed it back when she was done. I went to look at it. Now, the chain was leading to a cat, it's collar.

The last, finished one was of two hands. Two hands, handcuffed together. Their pinkies intertwined together.


Sophie was reading a book. She'd started reading it two days ago, always scrolling through the pages, back and forth. I didn't know what the book was titled, so I guess it was from the junk box.

I saw half of the title, but most of it was blocked by Sophie's shoulder. She opened it before I could read the other un-covered half.

"Stockho-" And then it was cut from my vision.

Blanket draped across her shoulders, she kept going through each and every page. Occasionally, she'd reach up and drink her tea. 

I looked down to my hands, lying in my lap.

I haven't run into Brooke. That was good. I was still wary, though. She could come back any moment. And then those rats in school. That girl - who I considered the ring master of the others, and whose named I learned was Susie, hadn't said anything to officials, yet. Only to those rats, and they remained silent, too.

When will they let it out? And what will I do once it happens?

Sophie shut her book, staring at the back cover for a moment, "... Blake?" She said, and I looked over. She pushed the book under her pillow and looked at me, "Can I ask you something?"

Sophie

It's been so long. I've been trapped here for weeks already. Hope was fading, day by day. Each day... Each day...

I had to turn those imaginary conversations to reality. But hopefully, they'll take a better turn. I doubt it, though.

Blake paused, his eyes on me, "Yes?"

"... Pleas - Can-..." I was barely able to choke the words out. Blake furrowed a brow, waiting for me to form a real sentence. I gulped, "Please - Can you..." My heart did it again. It was gonna burst. "Pl-Please let me go back h-home?"

Blake's eyes went wide. He still didn't respond after ten seconds, so I panicked.

"I-I swear I w-won't..." I pleaded, "I won't tell a soul a-about th-this. We could think and ma-make something up and..."

"... I don't," He finally said, "Want to forget this happened. We're finally together, remember? Why would you want to forget about that?"

This was going exactly how my imaginary conversation was going. So accurate...

I quickly piped in. My voice was rising, full of desperation, "We could still see each other! I swear I'll..." It took a lot to say this, "I'll devote myself to you, I swear. We could still be together. Just-!"

"But," His face hardened with irritation. He was almost glaring at me, "Everyone will hurt you again! Remember? They hurt you. I told you, I'm gonna protect you. I can't-"

"BLAKE!" I sat up in an instant, and slapped my hand across the air. It threw the tea cup down, letting it shatter with it's few contents. Blake's eyes went wide. "JUST - PLEASE!" I didn't want to cry. But I couldn't take it much longer - being trapped, forced to breath near this freak. "I can't live like this anymore! How can I?! Please, Blake, just listen-!"

"SOPHIE!" He glared and stood from his seat. He walked close, "Calm down, don't have another outburst!" He grabbed my wrist, causing my heart to jump up my throat. "What's gotten into you?" He questioned as I leaned back and shook my arm, trying to get my hand out of his grasp, "Try to understand again! I have to take care of you! Remember? Everyone out there is trying to hurt you-!"

"No!" I cried. Blake's grip was really tight. "You the one who has to understand! That's bullshit, everyone is fine, it's you who-!"

"Did that rat get in?!" He reached and grabbed my shoulders now. He leaned closer to me, propping himself onto the bed with me, "Brooke - did she get in and tell you this nonsense?"

... No. No, no, no, no, NO!

"Br-Brooke?" I stared at Blake with wide, bugged out eyes, "What about Brooke?-"

"That girl... She's just like everyone else, see? She tried to get through before, she could get in any moment and..."

"What..." No, no. Is she - like Tristan-? No, stop, stop, stop! "What did you-!?" I leaned against the wall, feeling myself tear up. Blake went rigid, his eyes widening at seeing my tears. 

"Sophie," He pleaded, his grip on me tightening, "Stop-"

"Brooke...!" The tears slipped down my face. Panic, and some anger entered Blake's face then. I immediately looked down, starting to weep, "Blake, just please-!"

"STOP CRYING!" 

Blake's hand flashed towards me, and the impact it made with my cheek stung, it sent me flying to the edge steel of the bed. As soon as his palm hit my cheek, the pain exploded and stung, aching like a bee was the one that stung me.

I grabbed for the steel edge of the bed, scratching my arm in the process. It was already starting to bleed. 

My eyes were wide, as the pain yearned, rubbing against my cheek.

"... I didn't..." I felt Blake shift and get off the bed, "I didn't..."

I finally looked towards him, my eyes wide in shock.

His fingers were gripping his hair, tangling them. He stepped farther away from me. His eyes were wide and full of horror. His body was shaking, "I - I didn't..." He hit the desk behind him, "So-Sophie, I didn't..."

Tears over flooded his eyes, for they slipped down. He looked mortified, "I'm sorry." He side stepped, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Sophie - I..."

He kept stepping back, to the side, until his fingers brushed against the door knob, "I'm so sorry, Sophie. So-Sophie, I'm s-so sorry, I didn't m-mean..."

He shut his eyes tight and stormed out of the room. The door slammed hard behind him.

Blake

"Blake? Are you in there?"

I still couldn't breathe. The hard, stinging feeling my hand made when I touched Sophie was still haunting me. The stinging pain on my hand, it was planted right there. Sophie's hurt face, was still printed on my vision.

I pulled the blanket against my head, tightening it around me, practically being choked. The door had stopped knocking, that man was gone. He gave up.

"Soph-..." I shut my eyes tight, letting the hot tears run down my face. "... Why're you crying?" I gripped the blanket tight and pulled it down, harder. It pressed against my skull, "Why're you crying?" I grit my teeth, "Why're you crying?" I tilted to the side, "Why're you crying!?" I fell hard off the bed, on against the floor. I crawled back against the wall, "WHY'RE YOU-" I slammed my head against the wall, hard. I heard the denting rip, "-CRYING?!"

"... I'm not..." I rose up my knees and wrapped my arms around them. My fingers sunk into my hands, "Crying..."


George

"WHY'RE YOU-?!" There was a large bang on the wall, as if the brat had slammed against it, "CRYING?!"

I wouldn't be surprised if he made a hole in the wall.

I emitted a soft sigh as I made my way through the living room. I picked up my bottle of vodka from the table, taking a long gulp of it. It already exploded once it reached my throat.

Strange. He hadn't thrown one of those tantrums and outbursts in years. I sound really mediocre right now. He was grown now, not in adulthood yet, but still grown. And, I didn't really have anything to look upon.

A few years back, he drifted away more and more. Yes, I was always working, but that didn't mean it didn't worry me. 

"I'm just," He said once I questioned him, "Doing my own things."

Funny. I didn't know what an eighth grader had to do, all through day and night. I had even called his school to ask if anything was coming up.

"No," They said, "We have no after school activities."

Even so, I doubt after school activities would end at midnight.

He kept it up for years. Some days, he wouldn't even come home.

"Where were you?!" I'd ask when he returned home at six in the morning. "I was just on my way to call the police!"

"And you just decided to maybe call now?"

I was working for hours, I had only just got home to find an empty bed. Of course, I never told him that. I just let it happen.

He was living his life, and I was living mine.

But I always still wondered, and maybe even worry.

"Your school called today," I had said last month. His eyes were slightly wide, watching me at the door way. "They said you were absent - two days in a row. What happened?"

This parenting and communication thing, I'm horrible at it. He didn't answer me. Just scoffed and walked right past me. And I let him. I'm a real piece of shit.

He was absent most days that month, when he came home he was worn out, as if working all day.

I'm sure if Lauren was here, she'd beat me senseless. Blake too, maybe. She made it clear from day one, since Blake started to drift away.

"Remember?" She'd say, "I'm not like that pig over there." She jabbed a finger at me, her glaring eyes on Blake. He just blinked at her. "If you don't tell me what's going on, I will be VERY upset."

It should be reversed. Always leaving, that woman.

I remember back, thirteen years ago. Upon hearing the first bit of news, I was rather disturbed and shocked. I had a good reason, mind you. The second bit of news, I was mortified. Another good reason. But then the news right after eased me ever so slightly. 

But when I first saw Blake, I knew something was very wrong.

Children. They're supposed to act whiny, cheerful, creepy in a way. He had the creepy part down. Every other trait that's meant to match a child? He just threw those away, ripping them to shreds.

Hardly any expressions, hardly any words. Just answers, only involving, "Yes" or "No".

It wasn't what I was prepared for. Not at all.


On the first night, I heard the child sobbing in his room. More than just sobbing. He was screaming and banging on the walls like a maniac.

When I opened the door, I found him lying on the floor, weeping.

"... Why," I crouched down in front of him, "Why're you crying?-"

He lost it. He shrieked, "STOP IT!" He shoved at my chest, but I didn't move. I did, however, narrow my eyes in shock and confusion. He crawled back, "STOP! I'M NOT-!"

"Blake," I reached over and grabbed his shoulders, "Blake!"

"I'M NOT CRYI-!"

"Wake up!" I pulled him against my chest. He finally calmed down. "It's okay." I rubbed his shoulder. I wasn't sure what to say. I settled with, "It's safe here."


There was the only real emotion he showed. As a child. Anguish, sadness. He had those tantrums almost every night, and it was mostly me who had to come wake him up, pull him back into the present time line.

It stopped at around second grade. He occasionally showed sings of an incoming outburst, but it never happened. Then day by day, every other emotion was being dragged out of him.

It never returned. They were both avoiding each other.

Hey guys! Wanted to leave another little note here because oh my gosh this chapter. (i've wanted to leave notes in every chapter but oh well-) It's been a long while and still Sophie remains phased and silent and pretty much : weak. Something again that I plan to talk about, but here it's just a mention. And Blake also, the slightest thing to hurting Sophie is pain to him. Ironic, y'know, considering... Yeah. And a new character! Clearly we're getting some shades more into Blake's past and childhood. Next few chapters will be... Triggering to some, I think. Thank you all for reading, hope to see you soon!