CONDEMNATION ✓

Chapter 7

You were unsure of how much time you had spent wallowing on the floor that night, or how long it took you to actually get up and get yourself collected, but you managed. You decided to take a long shower and a power nap to dispel the remainder of the shame from last night. You could only guess it was the next day by the time you finally pushed yourself out from under the covers of the large king-sized bed and back into the bathroom. The painted, blacked-out windows made it hard to tell the time. 

There was no clock in the room. You could only assume that Mono had your things, or maybe R had them destroyed for whatever reason. A quick look in the bathroom mirror showed you that your neck was black and blue. The imprint of his hand wrapped around your skin like a tattoo would take days to fade. At least it matched your hair. As you splashed cold water over your face, you scrubbed at your skin as if water would fade his lingering touch, but to no avail. You yanked the grey towel down that hung by the sink and began to pat your face dry, freezing, when you heard a click from the bedroom area. Your heart skipped a beat. Was he back? 

"Ayo, lunch." You heard soon after, quickly restarting your heart as you realized by the improper speech that it was just Mono. Tossing the towel onto the floor, you headed back into the bathroom with a lack of amusement drizzled in your eyes. You still felt weak, though you didn't know if it was due to the beating you had taken last night or the fact that you 'lost' the fight that was taking a toll on your sanity. Failure was never an option. "Got yo favorite. A stack of pancakes and that shitty ass spinach omelet like Ma used to make." Mono moved to set the food down on the nightstand, carrying it on an elegant little bed tray that almost made you want to mock him for seeming like a housewife. 

"Surprised you remembered." You scuffed, rubbing at the side of your neck as you approached the bed. You had rolled the decapitated head under the bed and swept the broken glass along with it using a hand towel to keep yourself from getting cut again. Clad in the grey sweats and white shirt Mono had given you last night, you flopped onto the bed. "Who's the fuck you think been makin' the pancakes since you's was ten?" Mono questioned in a cocky tone, stuffing his tatted hands into the pockets of his jet black hoodie as he waited for you to take stake of the food. "Surely not the brother who was too stoned off his ass to come to eat dinner every night." You rolled your eyes, dropping your hands back at your side as you sat down on the edge of the displaced bed and reached for the orange juice first. Weren't stoners supposed to be hungry constantly? Yet he was locked in his room nearly every night, blaring the shittiest rap music. 

"Had everythan' I needed in mah room." Mono shrugged his shoulders. In plain view, you could see his rose tattoo on the side of his neck. Such a delicate tattoo for a man that prided himself on being so 'hard.' "Yeah, a dirty mag and your hand, right?" You brought the glass to your lips and took a sip. The acidic drink burning as it rolled down your still damaged throat, you cocked your head back to take a long chug. 

"The fuck happened to you?" He questioned; you didn't need to meet his eyes to know he was talking about the extensive bruises that wrapped around your neck like a choker, or maybe it was the cuts and scrapes that littered your arms like a bad oil painting?  "The fuck do you think?" You exhaled a satisfied sigh from the juice as you slid the glass back down onto the tray and let your glaring eyes roll back to your brother. "You left me alone with your deranged boss." 

"R did that?" Mono seemed surprised but not enraged. You had known R for less than thirty minutes and saw a side of him that Mono hadn't? What kind of organization was this? "No. The candy man did." Your face scrunched as you stared at Mono dumbfounded. "Shit Sis, what'd you do?" Shaking your head, your blue hair rattled about before settling back on your brother with idiotic disbelief. "I've got a choke bruise, and you're asking what I did? You're such a loving brother." Sarcasm dripped from your pale lips as you ripped your eyes from him and shook your head again. Should you be surprised? He left you to rot in an asylum; of course, he'd defend this.