Insanity

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

The clock never worked. He never fixed it.

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

Nothing is fixed. Not the television, not the washing machine.

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

The lights remain off, just as it had been. No flickering, though maybe there is in the other room.

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

What time is it? How long has he sat here, staring into the black screen on the TV? How long has he watched his own contorted figure, watching it sway from the left to the right without any real thought? His head angles up, towards the clock.

That's right.

Everything is black.

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

Lowering his head, he listens to the soft footsteps pad against the carpet. Within the darkness, a hand reaches out to carcass his cheek.

"You've made Mother happy."

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

He's alone again. He's exhausted. Should he sleep? Should he?

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

Eileen is over. She's crying against him, hugging him, pleading for forgiveness. What's that? Why is she apologizing?

"This wasn't supposed to happen," she sobs, whispering in a hoarse voice, "You were never supposed to... Henry... What has he done to you...?"

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

Loneliness.

Is he really alone? Maybe. He hasn't moved since forever. His body continues to sway from side to side, content with nothing more. He's not hungry. He's not thirsty. There's no reason to try and clean up. No reason to even be here. No reason, except maybe to play a little longer in his puppet role. The show must go on.

Especially while he's around.

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

"Henry? Say something... please..."

"How long's he been like this?"

"I came back a few weeks ago... He hasn't even moved..."

"I'll say. If he would stop moving, I'd mistake him for a statue."

"Richard, this is serious."

"I am being serious."

"Henry... Can you hear me?"

Yes, he can.

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

Someone holds his hands. Warm to the touch. A soft, content sigh from that mysterious figure.

"Mother is trying to speak to you, Henry. Why won't you translate the messages?"

No one has been talking to me.

"My patience is growing thin. Speak."

The brunette continues to sway, clearly not paying any mind.

Not paying a single thought to him.

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

Alone once more. He tried to move his arm earlier. Of course, the bones under his flesh cracked with the old muscle being used, and a strange warm liquid dripped down against the tiny hairs on his arm.

It felt good.

But he felt dizzy again, so he ceased the actions.

Besides, what would "Mother" think?

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

"I pronounce him dead."

"Richard, cut it out."

A chortle. "Relax it. We need some humor in our non-existent lives."

Silence. A feminine touch on his shoulder.

"Henry... Can't you hear me?" She tries once more. And once more, there isn't an answer.

"Come on, princess. Stupid fucker's gonna be back soon."

"I don't care. I can't leave Henry again. Not with him."

Who's Henry?

Who's "him"?

Silence takes over.

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

"Damn it, Henry! I took away your eyes, not your mouth! Talk!"

I am... Henry?

Impossible. He should know who he is, and he clearly isn't this "Henry" guy.

A rough shake. "This is the last straw, Henry. Speak, for your undead life depends on it!"

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

The clock never worked. He never fixed it.

A/N: What is this I don't even-? :I

If you don't understand it, I don't blame you. Has something to do with possessed Henry.

Love it, hate it, I don't care. Tell me what you think.