Get the fuck out of my house.
Tag: carlos’ mom
“I woke up because you were screaming so loudly.” ( @thatsilentlass )
Carlos was startled that someone had actually gotten up to see him after… whatever that mess was that was in his head. He felt awful, having woken her up. “Oh, uh… Sorry. I… It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You, uh… you should go back to sleep.”
The young girl rubbed her eyes, yawning softly as she seemed to wobble in her stance. The night was still thriving, the time itself being around 2:08 AM.
She held the sheets in her grasp tightly, feeling another yawn coming as she stretched.
“Are you sure everything is okay? When I came in, you looked like you were having a bad sleep…”
Her eyes averted to the side, her hair somewhat messy as she lightly rubbed her cheek. The girl looked to be about 8 years of age, her short brown hair frizzed up as she did just wake up moments ago.
Her attire consisted of a white night dress with white bunny slippers…“And its okay… you don’t have to be sorry if you aren’t sleeping good…”
Carlos got up, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants with a Bill Nye the Science Guy title card pattern as well as a white sleeveless undershirt. He went up to her to help guide her back to bed. Seeing her disheveled hair made him think about his own; it was probably unruly and his beard certainly would need a trim. Morning stuff, but ugh… someone saw him before he could get to that point.
“I’m still sorry that I woke you,” he told her. “C’mon, kiddo… let’s get you back to bed and asleep, okay?”
Luci, of course, wasn’t buying it.
Yet, she knew people shouldn’t be forced to talk, so she decided that maybe talking would be for later.Right now, she did want to go back to sleep, another yawn escaping her lips as she walked with Carlos back to her current sleeping area.
“It’s okay….” She mumbled, a small slur in her words, due to her sleep state.“We can talk about it… in the morning?”
She asked, glancing up to the tired male beside her.
Carlos blinked at her. He wasn’t sure, really. It was just a dream after all. And he really didn’t need to hear about his unhappy relationship with his mother, and the dreams he has about her…. nor did she need to hear him accidentally rant about the woman and her ableism and misandry and narcissism… Yeah, he’d rather not get into that with an 8 year old.
“Maybe. But you need to sleep, and so do I. I’m sorry… you didn’t have to come and see if I was okay… but thank you.”
Huh. You know, I had an affinity for blue hoodies when I was your age.
cliche-ask-max-deactivated20171:
Oh. Who are you and why are you talking to me?
//lol chill max//
I…can’t…*hes still hyperventilating and unable to calm down* ohgodohgodohgod
Max! Max, breathe. Look at me. Don’t think – just look at me and take a breath in.
Can’t…I killed…killed him…
Max, stay with me and look at me. Please, Max.
Just look at me. Look at my big, fat nose and my greying hair. *he hopes saying
something weird might snap him out of it enough*My dad had grey hair…*a few tears slip down his cheeks* I’m…I’m a murderer…
No, kid. You’re not. You have what we call ‘diminished
responsibility’. Max… you’re just a child. The only responsibility you have is
if you take a piece of candy from a store. Look at me, buddy. Just look at me.
Okay?*looks at you with eyes full of tears* no…you don’t fucking get it do you? It was my fault that he died. It was my fucking fault. I was an idiot. How can you say it wasn’t my fault when you don’t even know the story? *starts crying again*
Because you’re a child. And because it wasn’t my fault when my mom left my father
alone with two kids, one of whom she wished she’d had aborted before he was
born.
*he puts both hands on Max’s shoulders.* No, I
don’t know the full story. But I know that you’re a kid, and you can’t possibly
know everything there is to know. I know I don’t understand, but I don’t need
to understand to try and help you.
The Perfect Scientist 