It's Us Crew Oneshots

skåp eller något [8]

"HELLO???"

This single word was called out into the infinite plane known as IKEA, the owner of the voice having been separated by his group. Though the word echoed through the building, he got not response, so, defeated and a bit agitated, the boy grumbled and set off down the aisle once again, eyes scanning the contents of the large shelves as he dragged his feet across the smooth, concrete floor. Meanwhile, several rows down from where the boy was, in the bedroom furniture section, the group to which the boy belonged had yet to notice his absence.

"Don't sit on the bed, Dick," muttered the only female of the group as a black-haired boy laid down on the aforementioned furniture. Dick didn't bother to glance at the girl, only kicking his feet up and closing his eyes.

"Don't tell me what to do, Dashlie," snapped Dick. "I'm tired, we've been here for hours, and what else are these beds doing out here other than to lie down on and look at?"

Dashlie sighed and stomped over to a dark-skinned boy whose black hair had been dyed at the top. She pulled him away from a chair he was looking at and whined to him, "Duni, Dick's being a dick. Tell him to suffer like the rest of us and get off that damn bed!"

Duni crossed his arms and pushed up his glasses. "Watch your language, alright, Dashlie?" he said with a frown. "And you tell him that! I came out here for a good time, not took look after you all like a bunch of toddlers, alright? I'm here to have a nice outing while buying furniture."

"In IKEA!" exclaimed Dashlie, throwing her hands up into the air exasperatedly. "We could've ordered it online or gone to, like, I don't know, Home Depot, Macy's, Rooms to Go- whatever! Why IKEA? Everything comes in tiny pieces with vague instructions, and not to mention that people could get lost in here!"

"Speaking of which..." came a new voice, it's owner being a tall, fair-skinned male with red-tinted glasses and black hair. He looked around at the other three and brought a finger to his chin. "It... feels like we have forgotten something..."

Dashlie wheezed and turned to a box on a nearby shelf, picking it up to observe the contents labeled on the back. "Okay, DDawn, whatever you say," she said with a scoff. Duni thought for a moment, and Dick rolled over on the bed.

"You always say that," said Dick to DDawn, "but usually it's something like you've left the oven on. Except, you know, it always turns out you just thought you did, but you didn't."

Silence fell over the group once more as everyone turned back to what they were doing: Dashlie looking at boxed furniture, Dick rolling over on the bed and slowly but surely dozing off, and DDawn shrugging his shoulders and looking at cushioned chairs on display. Everyone moved on except for Duni, who still stood with his mind churning to think of what they were missing. Finally, it hit him, and Duni gasped loudly, making Dashlie jump and drop the box in her hand, which in turn startled Dick awake and sent him rolling over and falling to the floor.

"DON!" exclaimed Duni in realization, panic crossing his face.

However, Don did not hear his name having been yelled, for he still roamed the aisles aimlessly, wondering what was the purpose of going here in the first place. While the group he belonged to had finally acknowledged his disappearance and was on the way to find him, the boy was in no rush to reunite with his friends. He frankly liked the silence, for the bickering and badgering he was often surrounded by tended to give him a headache and drain his energy and patience. Though the high ceiling and tall shelves of IKEA were intimidating, Don found refuge in the time he was alone.

Trying to understand the names of some of the items on the shelves were a source of amusement. Names like svärd, gaejsgsgs, skåp, dfytgeab, dombås, flörb, and bladvass actually managed to bring a smile, though a confused smile, to Don's face. The boy stopped as he studied a particularly difficult name, and he raised an eyebrow at its absurdity. "Wh... What..?" said Don, stepping back as he read. "Etskömmånhjöme..? That's... That's not a word..." He butchered the word that mean nothing in neither English nor Swedish, and the lights overhead flickered five times. He squinted up at the ceiling, the air growing cold. "Uh... Okay..."