You listen to a voicemail.
HEY MAN WHERE ARE YOU? YOU SAID YOU WERE GONNA HANG OUT AND PARTY A LIL WITH ME AND COBBERT BUT LIKE YOU AREN’T HERE. WHAT’S UP? CAUSE I SWEAR MAN WE’VE BEEN SITTING HERE FOR A WHILE AND THAT ISN’T A GOOD LOOK I’M SAYING LIKE IF YOU DON’T GET THE FUCK OVER HERE WE CAN’T GET ANY FUCKING SNACKS CUZ I DON’T GOT ANY CASH ON ME RIGHT NOW AND THAT MAKES ME KIND OF PISSED MAN YOU GET IT? BUT WHATEVER I GUESS YOU’RE HAVING FUN WITH JAMAL OR SOMETHING WHATEVER FUCK YOU I DON’T CARE
You listen to another voicemail.
MAN I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE FUCKING DOING BUT ME AND COBBERT ARE HAVING A BLAST WE’RE JUST LIKE CHILLING HERE. WITHOUT YOU. COBBERT IS SO COOL HE’S JUST LIKE TALKING ABOUT. LIKE FUCKING UHHH I DON’T EVEN KNOW MAN SOME raisin ABOUT PLANES. BUT YEAH JUST HAVING A COOL ASS TIME WITHOUT YOU. WHATEVER. JUST LETTING YOU KNOW. NO PRESSURE.
You feel salty tears start to drip down your face. Your nose goes numb. How could he be so mean? It’s not your FUCKING fault that the fucking fascists burst down your door.
You build a comfortingly nostalgic, ableit pretty pathetic pillow fort out of the blanket and pillow and watch a 4chan skinwalker greentext video on Youtube while playing Sonic 3 on an emulator on your phone to soothe your anxiety attack. You feel like a kid in the heckin’ 90s again.
Outside, you hear the scrambling and gunshots die down. You hear the sounds of commotion and doors opening, and the sound of a body being dragged across the floor.
What do you do?
