Post by Kenzie on Feb 16, 2014 23:01:32 GMT -5
Arthur hadn’t had any sleep in the past four days, and it wasn’t by his choice.
First, he had schoolwork to worry about. He’d just finished a paper, which he had tried to plan out the time to do, but then the stupid fucking baby project came in like a wrecking ball and ruined that up. It wasn’t through any fault of his partner or his, really, it was just putting up with the thing and listening to it scream threw off his writing of the paper. Second, he had work. He refused—absolutely refused—to cut his hours during these two months even though Susan had tried to convince him to do so before. Sack o’shit or no sack o’shit, he still needed the money. He was glad his partner wasn’t too difficult—though as he’d come to realize at the pool party thing she was related to Susan’s friend—but otherwise seemed tolerable. He couldn’t wait, though, to dump the flour child on her once this week was over.
Nice as she was, she had to suffer too. That was what the project was about. Mutual suffering and pain.
Finally, the thing was quiet. He’d actually discovered the way to shut off the screaming only earlier that day, and now that his paper was submitted, he was planning on getting some sleep. He set his alarm on his nightstand to wake him up for the next morning. He didn’t even bother to change into pajamas—he just flopped down on the bed and closed his eyes, with a content sigh. It was only 4 in the afternoon too, so most people weren’t sleeping that early. He was comfortable and drifting off almost immediately.
Until a piercing scream erupted through the house.
It wasn’t a scream as much as it was a wail, a wail that Arthur recognized all too well. Groaning he sat up and glared at who he thought the offender was—his baby, sitting in his computer chair. It smiled at him like it was taunting him. Ha ha, you can’t sleep. Ha ha, I’ll keep you up all night. It was talking to him.
He threw himself out of bed and moved to kick the chair, but at the last second he realized that he couldn’t kick it into smithereens and hit his drawers instead, causing his desk to shake and his papers to fall off. A particularly irritating pain shot up his leg.
“Shut. The fuck. Up.” He snapped, reaching out to grab his stupid fucking sack of flour baby. He caressed the same spot he’d caressed before, only to be greeted with no reaction. And it was then that his brain registered that it wasn’t his baby.
But that also meant he was hearing someone else’s. Which was an entirely different issue inandof itself.
Groaning under his breath, Arthur put the baby down and then left his room, wincing as the screaming grew louder. He listened outside of each door. Henri, then Talya. It wasn’t from either of their doors. So he turned towards the door directly across from his, Chardonnay. That fucking bitch was causing even more trouble for him! Clearly, this was all a ploy on her end to make him suffer.
…Okay. It probably wasn’t. It probably was making Chardonnay suffer, too. But Arthur wasn’t exactly thinking straight. He stormed over towards her door and listened in. There it was, that insufferable wailing!
Arthur raised his fist to her door and knocked. He was trying to be as damn calm as possible, but when there was no response and the wailing didn’t cease he got annoyed.
“HEY!” He yelled, “TURN THAT GODDAMNED BABY OFF! YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS TO DEAL WITH THAT SCREECHING SHIT!”
Wailing did not stop. Something inside Arthur snapped and he grabbed the doorknob and, with his full strength, threw her door open, it ricocheting off of the wall it hit rather strongly. The bags under his eyes were thick and he was shaking in anger, wearing a blue plaid shirt and a pair of paler jeans, the same thing he’d been wearing all day. The only thing of value on his person was the silver chain on his neck. His next words had a sarcastic undertone disguised by obviously fake concern.
“Did you fucking DIE IN HERE? Have you done DEAF? SHUT THAT FUCKING THING UP RIGHT NOW!”
Arthur didn’t particularly care that he’d just thrown open her door. All he cared about was that the baby be silenced.
Thinking of how he needed to shut off the flour baby, he figured he should have brought a pocketknife to hack it to peacefully silent pieces.
