(My arm is okayyyyyl)

** Third Person's P.O.V **

Palette placed the glass of milk down on the dishwasher, and yes he still drinks milk because Fresh told him to. He walked upstairs to his room, he slipped into the covers and slept, hoping that he would sleep peacefully.

—Terror—

Palette stood by the darkness as it engulfed his entire body in numbness. He could see a faint portrait of a figure. Palette knew he was seeing things in his dream, he hoped that it wouldn't be Goth, like all the other dreams he had. He walked slowly towards the figure, only to run from the figure. He realized who he was running from. He spotted a white door and he opened it then closed it up, falling to the ground, tears staining his bony cheek.

You're the only one who can up and run

He looked up only to see a fragment of his memory during the first day of high school. He waved at the librarian upon entering the library. The librarian didn't wave back for he didn't realize that the person was waving at him. He was kind of oblivious to everything, and he didn't know better. People took advantage of that, so he always witnessed friends leave him, that lead him to having trust issues. He didn't trust anyone, he only trusted his sister and family. Palette noticed that he didn't wave back, that made him feel a little empty. Palette could feel a new set of tears threaten to spill as he raised his fisted hand landed on the fragment of memory, breaking its somewhat glass like surface. The fragment of memory broke and shattered into a thousand pieces.

Leave me just as empty the day you came.

He ran away again only to see a line of memories flashing before his eyes(sockets). Memories ranged from the time he spent hours in the library, passing by Goth only to glare at him from behind, and even the time of the Christmas party. It was all too painful to watch. Too much for his already pained soul to handle.

And you hold all the cards, all the broken hearts, strung over your shoulder ‘til it's all in vain.

—Terror ended—

Palette woke up to a start, beads of sweat ran down his forehead, breaths were short and quick, heart was thumping harshly against his chest as if banging against his ribcage, the room temperature gradually getting cooler and chilly. He stepped off his bed and turned the AC off as he felt the cold floor tiles against his warm foot, it sent chills down his spine and was weirded out by it.

“And only you know the strength of your teeth, the wash in the weight of your pockets, so deep and lonely.”

Palette song softly, walking out of his room and into his living room. He sat on the couch.

“You're a world away, somewhere in the crowd. In a foreign place, are you happy now?”

“There's nothing left to stay, so I shut my mouth, so won't you tell me, babe, are you happy now? Are you happy now? A-are you h-happy now?”

Palette soon passed out, finally finding peace.