My friends are at my house again. They seem to depend on me rather than fighting for themselves in the real world. I'm okay with their constant visits though. They give me a decent excuse to not get any work done, and even if i wanted, I'm not very good at making new friends. I even might dare to say they give me comfort at times of loneliness.
The florescent chandelier looms over my head causing a slight headache, but i shake it off. I have company. I can hear them in the living room, a mear couple of steps from my bed. My house is small but i can fit a surprising number of friends in the space.
Once out of my bed, i mark the day off on the calender. Another day lived, another slash on the wall. Shuffling to the living room, my friends great me in joyous shouts of my name along with 'Hello's and 'How are you's'We laugh and talk for what seems like hours. The subject of death and destruction is brought up many time but i silence the subject with a change of topic. My friends have a dark sense of humor and sometimes it scares me, but i know they don't mean it.
My friends stay for awhile and i soon become tired of their constant chatter. I cant ask them to leave. I retire to my bed, leaving them be. So they stay. Laughing and talking. Making noise. My headache grows stronger and I'm soon clutching at my ears to drown them out. I smother my pillow on my face and soon i cant breath. Its too loud.
I got my pillow taken away that night.
