Game Boy

25 - Unplug

TRIGGER WARNING:

This and the following chapter contain themes of severe depression, suicidal thoughts, and mental health issues which may serve as a trigger for those experiencing mental trauma or illness.

Please do not continue reading if this will harm your mental state and if you need to reach out or talk to someone please don't hesitate to reach out and get help.

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Hunched over himself, Kenneth listened to the tinny voices and his mother's own panting rant through the door. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he knew any minute she'd storm in here to let him know exactly what he'd done wrong. He ducked his head down between his knees and clamped his mouth shut as his stomach flipped and threatened to make him vomit. Cold sweat dripped down the side of his forehead. 

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did it. I didn't mean it. Tears joined the beads of sweat. Kenneth locked his arms over his head and rocked himself back and forth, trying to find comfort in the motion. All it did was aggravate his stomach and he stopped. The room was ten-times colder, pressing around him and clinging to his skin. He screwed his eyes shut. Their voices were gone. Was she coming back in here? 

He couldn't hear steps yet. Only the whirring of his own oxygen system and the faint click that came from the respirator. The feeding tube dug into his leg at a weird angle and pressing into his stomach. His throat clenched and he tried not to think about it or the other needles and lines stuck deep into his skin. Inhaling slowly through his nose, Kenneth pressed the air out through his mouth and kept his teeth clenched behind his lips. He strained to listen. 

Nothing. 

Goosebumps crawled up his arms and spine and he shivered. His arm hurt. He loosened his grip on himself slightly and realized he'd dug his nails back into the skin of his arm leaving red lines behind and purple bruises. He bit his lower lip and tried to sit up. Slowly peeking out, his eyes skipped across the empty chairs just to be sure.

She wasn't there. She wasn't going to scold him or jump at him the moment he sat up, but still. His eyes fixed on the door and he froze mildly. The will to move left his limbs. Any moment now she'd come through that door.

Swallowing, Kenneth wrapped one arm around himself again and huddled his knees into his chest despite the discomfort. He twisted his free hand into the blanket and looked down. The headset sat in his lap, returned to it's rightful owner. A tear slid down his cheek and dripped onto the plastic interface's casing. Another followed.

I'm sorry...it wasn't worth it. 

His fingers gripped his arm tighter as he felt the phantom sting of his hand against her face. What joy did she get out of it? It didn't feel good. His hand burned. He screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. I'm sorry, mom, please forgive me. 

The door clicked open. Kenneth's head shot up and he inched back, drawing the blanket back with him. A bot entered first followed by the figure of his mother as she came back into the room. Her eyes were sharp as ever but her arms were folded over her chest as she stood a few feet behind the bot, stopping short of the row of chairs and leaning against the wall to observe.

Kenneth's breathing caught in his throat. He waited for her to get closer. To open her mouth and yell. Nothing at all. He withered back and refused to move, afraid she might jump at the slightest twist of a muscle within his body. 

The bot rolled over to the bed. It's blue digitized eyes looked like they were supposed to be smiling. Instead, they stared as pixelated voices, boring a hole into the side of Kenneth's head as he avoided its gaze.