I won't forget you... (Sequel to "Blame it on me")

Ch. 9

т н є g α м є ¢ σ и т ι и υ є ѕ

It was a regular afternoon. For some reason, Tord has been extremely happy lately. Tom felt like it was a little bit disturbing to see how much happier he acted than how he was before. It was such a drastic change, but Tom felt like it was helping him rather than hurting him in the game that he was playing.

He continued to refer to it as a game in his head because he felt like he knew that he was going to win. Even if it was a game being played with someone's life, it still was just a game. Just like a child playing on a recorder, or a group of people playing cards.

Even though the people were happier, the house was still always unusually quiet. He would usually hear Edd or Matt getting into stupid fights, or hear Edd chugging a gallon of cola on the couch. Even Tom himself was quieter; staying locked up in his room from the new life that was around him. For some reason, everything was the opposite of how it was before. People might have been happier, yes, but why? Tom hadn't done anything to change thee happiness level of the house. Tord had always been in the house from the past, so he couldn't see why this second time airing would make such a huge difference on the way that he and others acted.

Well, he knew why he himself acted different, but not why others were.

He felt utterly stressed and confused on how and why everything was beginning to fall apart. His plan was degrading to ashes while his mental stability was going to waste. Every single idea he had was leaving his brain as he rushed and tried to think of a better outcome that would solidify the bond between him and Tord. The new world was a waste, and he knew that.

An itching feeling arose form inside of him, almost clawing at him to try and get out. It ignored the feeling tremendously, but he felt it coming back into his brain every time he thought of something else.

Pain was all there was.

And with pain, came frustration.

He didn't know what to do.

He didn't know how to continue.

It was like he was telling somebody else's story.

He desperately tried to continue, but his mind went blank every time, just like the paper remained white and blank. Just an emptiness to stare at in pity and pathetic hopes and dreams that will probably fail.

He sat back onto his bed, collapsing his weight onto it and sighing.

Another day of unfinished updates.