Work Text:
You're in your room. Your bubblegum pink trash of a room. You've been here for a while now; nobody should ask you how long because it's hard to keep track (you tried to count the days, but they started to blur together). Your only window is a porthole, and when you look out, all you see is darkness. When you first woke up, you didn't understand what had happened to Earth. Were you the lone survivor of an apocalyptic zombie outbreak? Did the Sun explode, and was all of Earth cast into cold and darkness? When you touched the porthole, it felt cold to the touch, so you landed on the latter scenario.
But then Murdoc barged into the room and said, "Rise and shine, songbird," all sickly sweet.
You wished either of your made-up scenarios had happened instead of being trapped with Murdoc.
The room isn't very big. It's about the size of a walk-in closet. Some people would say that's big, but compared to your previous rooms, this is quite small. The paint coating is meant to stick the trash that builds the walls together, but that doesn't stop them from oozing liquids. You wonder if anybody has seen walls cry. You wonder if the walls weep when they witness Murdoc beating you with his belt because you were stupid enough to stand up to him that day, or maybe when they're listening to the vile words that spew from his mouth when he's decided to visit you instead of having Cyborg Noodle fetch you. Do the walls remember all the times you've taken your shirt off to reveal the welts and bruises from the day before, from times when you were in the recording studio, and things went south?
Don't cry for me, for I'm already dead.
You know the answer to this, but just to entertain the glimmer of hope that you have, you go and try to turn the knob on your door. It shimmies but doesn't turn fully. You sigh. When you first woke up here, you remember that panic enveloped you as you pounded on the door, screaming for somebody to let you out. You had even tried clawing at the doorframe with your fingers, trying anything to open it. It was foolish. If Murdoc wants you here, then he will make sure that you stay here. When you realized you were trap you sat with your back against the door and just sobbed. Now, though, you lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling. You think back to how, after you departed from seeing Russel at the airport, you felt free and in control of your life for once. You were starting a new journey. You were going to a new country and were going to live among the people. You had gotten a small apartment for yourself and enrolled in school to start your education on becoming a lawyer.
You had hope.
And in an instant, it was taken away from you.
There's a beeping sound coming from an old computer that sits on the floor. Each beep sounds like an echo; its sound bounces off the trash-made walls. You stare up at the ceiling, unblinking and void of emotions and thoughts.
You are depressed.