^Chad^ (And Billy)

"Am I in hell already?"

I got startled and looked up from my phone.

It took every bit of my will to not burst out laughing.

I'll admit, I might have accidentally spilled some pink glitter on his hair and painted some parts of face pink.

Don't worry, I was careful not to do anything to his cuts. In fact, I cleaned them. It's the least I could do.

"Great, now I'll have to cancel my party I threw thinking you were dead," I said.

Harsh, but his already tiny brain is now damaged so he probably has to think for years to process what I just said.

"Mind telling me what happened to you?" I asked.

"To be honest, I have no idea. I remember trying to save my mom and this black figure..." He trailed off, clutching his head. I tensed at hearing the word mom.

"I'll get you some water. Relax, you can punch your pea sized memory later." I said, going out of the room.

I went into the kitchen and filled a whole bottle of water and took some painkillers from the drawer.

What? I need him alive so I could torture him.

Billy: No, you're doing this 'cause you're finally his friend.

Billy, get lost. Just no.

I went back up to my room and it was weird not have a door.

I managed to clean up the door and trust me, it's not fun.

I put the painkillers on my table and gave him a bottle of water.

He sat up straight and I mentally thanked god he didn't baby himself. He took the bottle from me and gulped it down.

I shall never understand how someone can drink one whole liter of water without a break.

"How long was I out?" He asked, rubbing his temples.

" A couple of hours. So, let's test that pea sized memory you've got?" I asked.

He shot me a glare and put the bottle down. Burying his head in his hands he sighed and said, "My mom."

I swear, if he is going to say two words after every two hours, I would die.

I looked around for something to do, rather than just stare at him. It would probably help him think without someone pressurizing him to.

Again, why do I care?

So I can get him out of my house as soon as possible.

I picked up my guitar and went into the balcony connected my room.

"I'm just going to play music. That'll probably help you think."

"Thanks a lot, man." He replied gratefully, looking at his now clean arms and torso. There were a few cuts on it and it was clear that they were formed due to a knife. There was nothing much I could do about his shot leg, so I just tied a white bandage around it.

Before Chris was born, my mom used to work as a doctor, so I was used to blood and how to aid it.

Thinking of my mom, it has been two hours since they left and they aren't even picking up my phone.

"Oh, and what happened to your door?" He asked, glancing back.

"Brad happened."

I fished out my picks from my pocket and started to pick one color.

Yes, I do carry at least three picks around everywhere I go, because it's hard to pick one.

Hey, Billy which pick do I pick?

Billy: Drop that pun, Chad. I'm tired of hearing it for the past ten years.

Just pick a color.

Billy: Blue.

I fiddled around, playing my favorite chords in soothing strumming patterns, hoping it would cure my headache.

I didn't realize how bad my head hurt until now.

I played some songs by Beatles (I didn't sing because that would cloud my head with more words), Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan.

https://youtu.be/OeP4FFr88SQ

I was playing 'tambourine man' by Bob Dylan when I got interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

[A/N: see that video, it will BLOW your mind]

I carefully set my guitar down and said, "Brad, put some shirt on from my closet if it doesn't sting your chest." I gestured to my closet and jogged down stairs.

Billy: You let him open your closet! You do realize he would die as soon as he opens it, right?

Yeah, that's the point.

You see, I have earned the title of having the messiest closet ever (in my mother's words). God knows what you would find in there other than clothes.

I chuckled as I peeped through my window to see if it really is my mom.

I didn't see anybody but I opened the door anyway.

I put my head out to see those pranksters but I didn't find anyone.

"I'm here, you tin head!" I heard a small voice.

Tin head?

I looked up and turned around desperately trying to find that voice.

"Look down!" My head snapped down to my doorstep and I didn't believe what I saw.

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