Solitary Confinement: Real.

 

Holy hell….I’m in deep shit now. Twice, this kid’s been sleeping with me. I have no clue what the hell I should do…..God, just kill me now.

He’s not very heavy, but my arm fell asleep a bit ago anyways. I try to slide it out from under his head, but I’m afraid I’ll wake him up. He reeeeeeaaaaally fuckin needs this sleep. Honestly, and I know I’ve said this a lot, but he really doesn’t look so hot. I’m so glad he doesn’t snore, unlike Loa. Dear Lord, living with him I got 3 hours of sleep a night. If I take valium, that is.

The sun’s setting, bathing everything in gold-orange. Autumn in Russia is very cold, but beautiful. My breath is fogging out in front of me. Now I really do have to wake him up. We’d freeze out here. I nudge his shoulder with my free hand. Cold! It’s his metal arm! He wakes up as if I yelled at him through a loudspeaker.

“Jesus Christ…..” He grumbles on about waking up in uncomfortable positions. I know what it’s like to do that! I regained consciousness over a vat of boiling oil for fuck’s sake! I guess I shouldn’t complain. He’s freezing cold. Well, he is wearing a really thin white shirt, after all. I’m used to shit like this. I shrug off my own leather jacket and offer it to him. He nods thanks and puts it on. I get up, and his body is racking with a fit of coughs, raspy, throaty coughs. Nasty…...

“We’d better get inside.” He coughs one last time, brining up some blood. He winces and wipes it on his pants. Good thing they’re black.

“Oi! Greed!” Dorchet tosses me a beer. I look at him questioningly. “Samhain!” Oh...I feel like a dumbass now. Durh! Even Insanity looks at me like I’m a retard. I never remembered all the pagan ceremonies and festivals before, why would I now? Better than shunning it for being “the Devil’s Day.” I know first hand that there is no devil...humans is so fucking stupid for thinking so. Well, I guess Father could double as the devil, but not close enough. I pop open my beer and take a swig. Imported! Holland beer is best crispy cold, but I know it tastes good luke-warm. I’m such a freak...

Insanity flops down in a chair and drops his head into the table. “No beer for me...” Good thing, too. He’d probably pass out after half a can. Plus, I don’t want him to pass out with me, not tonight. I’m still trying to figure myself out. Kimbley, I can see, is fiddling with some sort of...thing. I hear it plays music, but I’m not sure how. It has a huge knob next to some other knobs, and you turn them to play music. It’ called a “Radio,” I think. Hey, I’ve been away from society for over 100 years. Don’t judge me. The sounds of an orchestra fill the air. “The Devil’s Trill.” Nice touch. I’ve always been crap at the violin.