I can see you, you look gentle with those careful eyes and that smile. And although you cannot see me I see you. I see and I can hear.

But can you understand me?

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Warning ! The chapter you will be reading will contain the following below, read carefully.

- Graphic descriptions of burns - Blisters - Manic/Violent Episodes - Mental health - Suicidal mentions - Self Harm ( Hair pulling, Punching, scratching. )

If these topics trigger you even in the slightest, refrain from reading any further. You have been warned.

Enjoy : • )

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They were hungry. They were hungry and it hurt. It hurt them to the point they were nauseous and weak in the knees. Their fist clenched into their bedded sheets and gritted their teeth, shutting their eyes so tightly that they could swear they were pushing their eye balls far back into their skull. Their stomach growled and ached in agony. They were hungry. And they needed to feast. On something, anything. Bread, candy, meat. They were hungry. And they needed to eat.

Balloon kicked their legs over to the side of their bed and leaned against the wall, wincing in pain from how violent this stomach ache was turning into. It felt like vicious stabbing into their kidney. " Was this even hunger? " They thought. It was too much to be hunger, but then it could also be their stomach eating away at itself, hunger killing them from the inside. It was as if something was clawing, and tearing. Eating away at their organs until

Nothing.

Balloon felt nothing, all of a sudden that horrendous pain vanished, into thin air. Balloon stood still, hand placed onto the wall and waited, scared to move a muscle, scared to even think that the slightest movement could start that cramp in their stomach once again. But They were hungry.

And with that, Balloon carried their legs across the room, and made their way to the door, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Standing with a hand placed tightly onto their stomach and pushed in. Looking around as they traced their eyes around the cabinets and to the fridge. They opened the fridge door with a swing, looking in they stared at the lack of food from the inside. This was odd to Balloon. Knowing how many residents were placed inside the building, you'd think there would be enough food to at least feed everyone a day. But yet there was practically webs in the back of the fridge. Balloon frowned in frustration, eyes then darting to the carton of eggs, and blinked. Taking the eggs outside of the fridge and closed the door with their hip, they settled it down onto the countertop and walked to the oven, clicking the knob on the stove and watched as the flat surface slowly grew red and bright, yet at a very slow pace. They tapped their finger along the counter next to the oven, and waited, staring at the bright light. They then opened the carton and stared at the two white eggs in their small spaces, it wasn't enough to feed them, but it would be enough just for the morning, and they didn't mind that. They were patient, patient enough to wait and eat at least.

Oh but yet the quietness of the room was interrupted. Interrupted by a raspy voice that could practically be forks scraping a plate. Balloon felt their face scrunch up in discomfort before turning around to see both Nickel, and Baseball. Balloon's face went to terror, immediately looking away in fear of starting anything, any contact, any conversation, anything. But it was too late.

" Well Good morning! I didn't know you room dweller would be up this early. " Nickel snickered. Yet Balloon didn't respond. Baseball sighed in frustration and just went to the fridge. Nickel moved beside Balloon. " Hey? I said Good morning? What, you're too good for us? " He scoffed.

" Nickel you know I don't want anything to say to you, nor do I ever want to speak to you. " Balloon muttered, gripping the edge of the counter in slight anxiousness.

" Oh? Really. And why's that? Do I scare you perhaps? " Nickel raised a brow.

" .. "

" .. I said do I sca— " " I don't like you. "

" .. Ha— excuse me?? "

" I don't like you. I never liked you. I don't like anyone here. I especially NEVER had the thought of wanting to even ENJOY being around either of you. Especially when you constantly belittle me! " Balloon snapped their gaze at Nickel. The fridge shut, Both Baseball and Nickel staring at Balloon in silence.

" .. pf! You think I actually wanted you to like me? Haven't you learned anything. Balloon you are the definition of ridiculously incompetent a person can be! It even makes Apple look better than you by how stupidly oblivious you can be to others feelings! " Nickel blurted.

" You don't think I know? Do you? You don't think that— " Balloon paused, moving away from the counter and jabbed a finger into Nickels shoulder, " You don't have any idea how many times I have seen people glare at me, how many times they whisper behind my back! Because YOU influenced them all into still believing I haven't changed! You even lectured Suitcase! Of all people that I'm better off alone! And what about you? Have you changed, Nickel? Have you ever— given a single thought about whether if YOU changed? If YOU matured — if you actually gained a personality of something other than a no good - stereotypical asshole of a friend-! Not even a friend- " Balloon panted, " You're a bastard. To me. To this hotel. To everyone. And yet they still treat you like you're better than me. " Nicke stared at Balloon with wide eyes, mouth slightly opened before his face soured.

" Oh you're really gonna start with this? Are you kidding me? You're fucking insane if you even dare try and twist this on me! "

" Here we go again. " Balloon grumbled.

" ARE YOU SERIOUS! " Nickel snapped.

" Uh— Yeah! I am! You go on and whine and whine all the ti— "

" Oh and you don't? You don't constantly whine about how you're soo miserable and ' ohh people deserve to pity me because I'm depressed! ' Grow up! " " Don't you DARE AND TRY AND TELL ME TO GROW UP! " " AND WHAT IF I DO? ARE YOU GONNA CRY? ARE YOU GONNA RUN BACK INTO YOUR ROOM AND PUNCH YOUR PILLOWS AND SCREAM LIKE A DAMN CHILD?! " " YOU HAVE NEVER EVEN CONSIDERED ANYONE ELSES FEELINGS OTHER THAN YOUR OWN! YOU KNOW HOW MUCH OF A DESENSITIZED COWARDLY SELFISH PRICK YOU ARE, NICKEL?! "

The two bickered, screaming and yelling, shrieking at each-other like wild cats.

" Guys— please- stop please let's try and breathe— " Baseball frowned, eyes widening. But nothing stopped them, it was like two bears tearing at each other. Balloon's fists clenched tightly, a scowl formed across their face before suddenly grabbing a frying pan and lifted it into the air, swinging it towards Nickel's face — but before doing so, Baseball shoved Balloon into the stove.

The frying pan fell out of their hand, reaching out to catch themselves — but it was too late.



Suddenly, engulfing their arm was radiating heat, a giant immersion of fire like touch. The sound of sizzling and pops, crackling, filled the air along with Balloon's loud shriek of pain and agony. Collapsing to their knees in terror as to what was inflicted onto their arm. Baseball and Nickel stared in complete horror. Their skin popped and formed small blisters and bubbles, they cried in fear and whimpered, hunching over and shook violently as they just laid on their side uselessly. The pain wouldn't stop — it wouldn't and it kept going and going. Tears leaving their eyes as their lip quivered. They were like a kicked dog, and it was embarrassing.

All they could see through their blurred vision was Nickel darting into the other room screaming for OJ. Baseball just leaning against the wall with fear filing his eyes, to what he just caused to the individual that laid hopelessly, and shakily on the polished floor. It felt like their nerves of their skin was stabbed a thousand times with razor blades. Striking again, and again, for what they think it would stop for even a slight second would suddenly come back with more pain than ever. And it was horrible. Terrible. It was agony.

And all went black.

OJ sat on the edge of Balloon's bed, ripping the bandage wrap with his teeth before patterning it down on Balloon's forearm. Balloon was trembling, they were practically traumatized by the whole situation. They swayed back and forth on the bed, occasionally letting out quiet whimpers and cries of pain.

" There, I say leave it on for two days roughly and get new bandages so it doesn't grow infected. " OJ nodded, twisting his body over to the Merlot beside him and closed it. As Balloon stared at the wounded arm, OJ turned to Balloon again and placed a hand on Balloon's knee.

" Don't touch me don't TOUCH ME — ! " They shrieked, backing away and held themselves, kicking the sheets away from their body and hid in the corner of the bed, attempting to hide. OJ watched in slight shock and slowly nodded, moving his hand back into his lap.

" .. Balloon — are. " OJ hesitated, licking his chapped lips, " Are you sure you just slipped? No normal — ah, ' slip ' would cause such an injury. " OJ gave them caring eyes, but they saw no comfort, they saw no welcoming arms in OJ's eyes, they only saw pity, and uncomfortableness. They saw only betrayal, betrayal because OJ knew they wanted to be safe. OJ promised they'd be safe in the hotel OJ promised- OJ promised — and he betrayed them, lying. Everyone here was practically was either there to just pity the Balloon or humiliate them, grabbing any chance to belittle them, their feelings, their body, their mind, everything. And it made them so so tired.

" .. I — I'm sure.. I just.. slipped on.. water. " Balloon muttered. OJ just sighed and nodded, getting up and walked out of the room, closing the door slightly, and let some light into the dark room. Balloon sat there, hunched onto the bed and cried, holding their face in shame and humiliation of what they allowed to do to themselves. They allowed themselves to show their anger, they allowed themselves to try and — Attack- attempt to hurt him. Him. Trying to hurt Nickel. Balloon weeped in fear, disgust, and anger. But mostly pity for themselves.

There was a soft knock,

" Hello? House service? " A voice that was slightly pitched was heard. Balloon was just quiet, before whispering, " Trophy?.. " They sniffled.

Trophy poked his head in, " What gave it away? " He chuckled then noticed how dreadful the person looked, his face slightly hardened in confusion, walking in and closed the door behind him. " I heard what happened to your arm— are you ok? I mean. Like. Obviously not but, what happened? " Trophy walked over, Balloon stared up at Trophy with widened eyes.

" .. N- No— " They inhaled sharply, biting their lip and felt their heart squeeze. Trophy frowned and sat down.

" What's wrong. "

And that's what broke them, they cried, but it wasn't a cry, it was a cry for help. It was not a cry, but it was cry for a hug, to be embraced. It was a cry to be seen. And they did so, they cried and cried, they punched their head, sobbing as their body trembled and jolted from the hits, gritting their teeth.

" God I'm such an— idiot! I'm pathetic! Why can't I ever be enough?! For Suitcase- for him— for all of you?! I'm never enough and it's never going to be the same! I hate— I- " They grunted and pulled at their hair. " I HATE ALL OF YOU! " Balloon shouted, bawling as tears were like sprinkles of rain. Trophy jolted before grabbing Balloon's wrists.

" Balloon- stop- "

" GET OFF ME ! I HATE YOU! I HATE— A-ALL OF YOU! YOU ALL TREAT ME LIKE I'M A PIG! I'M ME! I WANT TO BE LOVED! NOT TREATED AS IF IM A ZOO ANIMAL! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I HATE YOU ALL! " Balloon squirmed and kicked their legs, ripping their hand away from Trophy and scratched at their face, sobbing, that's all they needed, they needed a sense of reality to snap them back from this derealization. So they harmed themselves, and they scratched at their skin until Trophy grabbed at their wrists again and pinned them down, applying weight onto Balloon as they screamed and yelled. Sobbing.

Trophy wasn't sure what to do— hell , the man hardly even know how to handle emotions like this. Balloon was breathing quickly, having trouble to breathe before —

Arms wrapped around Balloon's body.

Balloon froze. Tears still streaming.

" I hate.. I hate you all.. so much.. wh-why can't— you let me rot.. why do I always ha-ha-have to come back here.. I hate it here.. I hate — you.. " Balloon whined, eyes shutting slowly and hugged Trophy back. Feeling their heart pound like a fist to a door. Their face damp like a bucket of water drenching over their face. And they just allowed to hold Trophy, not because they wanted to, but because they needed to. They needed to be held. They needed to be loved. But they knew this wasn't love. This was just another pity response to their cries. And they hated it.

But what could they do.

Balloon was now laying on their side, staring at the wall with their back face to Trophy as he sat on the edge of the bed, both of them silent.

" .. it was warm. "

" .. hm. "

" the stove.. it was,, so.. warm.. my skin felt like it was practically melting off... it.. was so painful but at the same time.. so comforting.. "

" .. "

" Trophy.. I don't think — I don't think I want. To be alive. "

" .. "

" .. sometimes I feel like.. this weight is laying in my chest. Like.. it's weighing everything inside me down.. and .. it hurts.. my everything hurts.. I hate it.. and I hate living.. I wish.. it could all end. "

" .. "

" .. Trophy? " Balloon muttered, looking to the side and saw there was nothing. There was no one.

He was gone.

Balloon found themselves inside the work out room. The lights were all off, and there only static to be heard from their ears. And it was loud.

They stood in the middle of the room, and stared at the punching bag before them.

Their eyes not moving, and although they swayed, it was like their mind was stiller than a statue. They grasped the blade in their hand. A knife. A knife that was in hand. And they glared at the bag, and lifted the blade up.