I Have No Home / Take Me Home (skit 2)

Hi, I'm back with part 2 of this skit story. 

I'm writing this skit after midnight and in the middle of the night like the last part's. I was going to post it earlier, but I kept on getting distracted. 

Haha, I wonder if this particular skit story is going to ruin anyone's day because it's not full of wholesome pure content at all. 

Ahem, the first part though. I really did go there. Dang, some parts of my skits now are inappropriate. 

Oh and at this point, all of my skits with Duke and Fierdan will have explicit language in them. I'm too tired of censoring words, and I think it's stupid. 

(lol i'm lowkey expecting hate)

I've been imagining Duke and Fierdan dropping F-bombs all over the place, so I'm writing skits like that now. They're not.. clean. Sorry folks. 

(hate me today!) 

Have some other notes: 

• This skit story is the idea I had at 4 am on December 16th. Having the time of part 1 begin at 4 am was intentional. Finishing the skit at 4 am in my time zone was only a coincidence, haha. 

• This skit story is going to be over three parts long. It's also full of pain. I'm telling myself that I'm working on my creative writing skills, story plans, and character development by creating these kinds of skits. 

• I woke up yesterday with a big headache. It gave me ideas for this skit part. 

• No, I do not have firsthand experience from drinking over half of a bottle of wine in one sitting. Just.. yeah, I don't.

• For some reason, there's this big bottle of wine on my kitchen table. It looks so much bigger than any other bottle of wine I've seen. Hmm.. 

• Why did I choose to have Duke steal wine? Because I wanted him to have something other than beer, and because I didn't want him to have something with a higher amount of alcohol by volume. So, wine it is. It might connect to the wine in part 1 of the previous skit story. Maybe. 

Warning: unpleasant emotions. sadness. anger. pain. angst. and more painful feelings. ... alcohol mention. vomit mention. brief sex mention. abuse/assault mention. blood mention. ...

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[Date: December 16th. Time: 2:10 pm. Location: Upstairs bathroom. Duke woke up a few minutes ago. There's a high chance he's (still ? (idk how this works; I'm a fool)) hung over. Of course, he's also in a lot of physical pain. He tries to ignore most of the signs of a hangover.. to some extent. His head aches; his stomach aches. There's a throbbing in his skull. The dark circles under his eyes grew larger, and there is a light shade of red in the white parts of his eyes. In the bathroom, Duke drinks water from the tap by using one of those small plastic cups people use while brushing their teeth. He repeats the process nearly ten times. Then a few minutes after that, he manages to exit the bathroom and finally go downstairs. Once he reaches the bottom step, his stomach convulses and a small amount of light/clear-ish colored vomit spills out of his mouth. Then on top of that, he trips and falls, resulting in his shirt absorbing the vomit that reached the floor.] 

Duke: *sighs tiredly* Shit. *starts attempting to stand up but stops when he hears footsteps* 

Fierdan: *is coming closer* It's past two, and you're still in your pajamas. 

Duke: *mumbles something incomprehensible* 

Fierdan: *tries to sound like a concerned parent/guardian* Are you sick? Why are you on the floor like that?

Duke: *lifts his face off the floor just enough so that Fierdan can hear his words* I fell. Help me. 

Fierdan: *is right beside Duke* Okay, I'm going to grab your hand.

Duke: *interrupts* Wait, don't! *is suddenly at a loss of words as the front half of his body breaks contact with the floor* 

Fierdan: *hasn't noticed Duke's face yet* Now doesn't that feel better? 

Duke: *his eyes burn upon staring right into the ceiling lights, stands frozen in place though his limbs are wavering* 

Fierdan: *sees the remaining vomit on the floor* So you really are sick! You could've come to me sooner. 

Duke: I'm not sick-- *the headache feels worse* Ow! *moves his arms so his hands can be against the left and right sides of his head* 

Fierdan: I'm going to clean this up. You should sit down somewhere if you're not feeling well. *goes off to find paper towels* 

Duke: *sits down a little too quickly, now has one hand shielding his eyes from the light and the other holding his upset stomach* 

Fierdan:*returns, cleans up the vomit with paper towels, leaves again* 

Duke: Ahh.. god. 

Fierdan: *is back again, finally gives Duke a good look, sighs* Duke...

Duke: *speaks in a low voice* Fuck. 

Fierdan: What were you doing last night? 

Duke: I.. I couldn't sleep. 

Fierdan: So you drank yourself to sleep? 

Duke: *slurs his words without meaning to* What? No. 

Fierdan: Oh, really? *sighs disappointedly* Just how much alcohol did you drink? 

Duke: *gets to his feet, stands up* Fuck.. I don't know, man. 

Fierdan: *goes upstairs without saying another word* 

Duke: *slurring his words* Great. Go into my room. Fuckin' hell. 

Fierdan: *walks downstairs holding a bottle of wine in each hand* Well, it looks like you've drank nearly three-quarters of a bottle of wine. And you've got a whole other bottle there too. *sighs, reaches the floor* At least it's just wine. 

Duke: *staggers as he heads toward the kitchen* 

Fierdan: I'm not even going to ask how you drank that much all by yourself. 

Duke: Good to know since I drank it all at once. 

Fierdan: Geez. *pauses* Didn't you tell me a few weeks ago that you were upset at me for drinking wine, in a glass, at 10 or 11 in the morning? Pre-dawn is a lot earlier than that. 

Duke: Oh yeah. Guess that makes me a hypocrite. What else is new? 

[A few minutes later. They are in the kitchen. Duke grabbed a slice of bread and is trying to eat it. Fierdan pulls a chair up right next to the one Duke is sitting in.] 

Fierdan: Why did you do it? 

Duke: I was in the mood to drink enough that I know I would get drunk. *takes another small bite of bread* And look, I succeeded. 

Fierdan: But why..?

Duke: Because that's what I do when I want to forget certain things. Okay? 

Fierdan: Why did you drink that much? 

Duke: *stares down at the bread* It's only wine. I couldn't find anything better. 

Fierdan: I didn't mean it like that. 

Duke: *speaks even more bitterly* I don't know, maybe it's because I wish I could get alcohol poisoning, destroy my liver, and die. But of course that never fucking happens with me! *bites the bread angrily* 

[I don't know what else to add for this part. Skip forward to an hour later.] 

Duke: *speaks in a different tone now* I wasn't meant to live. I was always nothing more than a burden on people. Heck, now I'm a burden on you. 

Fierdan: You don't burden me, Duke. I like having you here with me. 

Duke: That's a lie, and you know it. You know how much of a burden I am. 

Fierdan: No, you aren't. 

Duke: Yes, I fucking am! I'll always be unwanted and hated. I ruin other people's lives by existing. I screwed up everything! 

Fierdan: What makes you think that you're unwanted and hated? 

Duke: *looks down at the table* I drank the wine because I had a dream that consisted of a conversation between my parents when I was a baby. I was probably a few months old, maybe just one. It was the truth, I just know it is. 

Fierdan: *is about to say something, but Duke continues* 

Duke: *voice suddenly cracks, sounds like he's breaking down* I wasn't supposed to be born at all. I'm.. I'm.. *swings his head up, has a vulnerable look in his eyes* .. the result of unprotected sex! They never planned on having a child. I wasn't supposed to happen. I'm a mistake. *hands tremble* My father wanted to get rid of me, hoping I'll die off in a street somewhere when I was a helpless baby. And who prevented him from doing that? My mother. She was caring for me back then unlike him. 

Fierdan: Calliah, huh? She...

Duke: I can't even bring myself to hate her! *pauses* I mean I do, but at the same time, I can't. God, why does she have to make me have mixed feelings about her? 

Fierdan: It's okay to have mixed feelings about people like that. 

Duke: No, it's not! Couldn't she just stick to a status quo? Either love your son because you want him to stay alive.. or be a normal abusive parent. How the fuck did she manage to be both? 

Fierdan: Deep, deep down, she always loved you. I'm not one to say this kind of stuff, but I knew Calliah too and know that's what she probably really felt. She hated me and Soulless, but she never hated you. She took her feelings out on you, which obviously is a terrible thing to do, but she didn't know how else to handle everything going on in her life. 

Duke: *is a little angry* She made the first ten years of my childhood be a living hell. Don't say things like she's worth defending. I lived in fear of her. *pauses* She couldn't even abuse me normally. Sure, she didn't do those typical things, but she still inflicted harm onto my body physically. 

Fierdan: I'm not condoning what she did to you. 

Duke: I was a child! I was.. *becomes frozen* 

Fierdan: Duke? 

Duke: *is suddenly crying* Why did I say those things at my first Help session? Why did I tell a stranger all that? God, I'm such a fuck up. 

Fierdan: Well, I think it's a good thing you let that all out. 

Duke: *frowns* You sound so incompetent. I hate you. 

Fierdan: Haha, sure you do. 

Duke: *leans forward in his seat, body is tense, shouts* I hate you! I hate her! I hate him! I hate you! I hate you! I fucking hate everything about those pieces of shit! 

Fierdan: Uh, are you talking about me? 

Duke: *slams fist down on table* I don't know! 

Fierdan: It's okay if you are. 

Duke: *calms down a little* No, I'm really only thinking about the people who assaulted me.. the people who tried to do inappropriate things to my body.. the people who did physical things to me with no consideration for my clear lack of consent. I hate those fuckers. 

Fierdan: As you have every right to. 

Duke: It took me so long to accept that how they treated me wasn't alright. What they did.. that wasn't okay. Sure, it could've been worse, but the scars from them are still there. What they did to me is absolutely nothing compared to what Dawn went through. But.. it still hurts. 

Fierdan: Please don't compare yourself to Dawn. 

Duke: It's okay, Fierdan. We were both sexually harassed and assaulted as minors on at least two separate occasions. Other people were thinking inappropriate things about our bodies. People wanted to see our naked bodies. People touched us.. down there.. our privates. Whatever. 

Fierdan: I meant it more as I don't want you to compare what happened to you to what happened to her. 

Duke: I'm not a dumbass. I know she went through a lot worse. I mean, at least in that regard. I'm not comparing anything else between us. *faces Fierdan again* Besides, all of us went through different traumatic experiences. We all have different experiences, therefore our perspectives can't all be the same. 

Fierdan: That is true. 

Duke: Of course it is. *stands up* Sorry for the sudden change in topic, but I was the one who screwed this whole thing up. It's about time I fix it. 

Fierdan: Do what? You should just relax. Recover from all that alcohol. 

Duke: My head and stomach are still killing me, yes, but that makes me more motivated to do this now. 

[Duke walks right up to a kitchen drawer. He faces it. He rubs a finger over and around the "hole" scar that covers the area where Fierdan stabbed and killed him.] 

Duke: I want to go back home. *opens the drawer* I'm sorry, Fierdan. 

Fierdan: *stands up, walks to Duke* What are you talking about? We are home. 

Duke: *is looking into the drawer, is still rubbing his finger over that part of his chest* I want to go home. I never had a true home while I grew up. The first time I felt like I understand the meaning of "home" was when I lived in the house with you and the rest of them. I miss them so much. 

Fierdan: *eyes widen* Wait, the only way to reverse--

Duke: *cuts Fierdan off* Is if I die. 

Fierdan: If you die, how will you see them again? 

Duke: That night you guys all saw me in lingerie? I died then. I died that night. 

Fierdan: You didn't die, Duke! 

Duke: It's hard for me to explain, but I really did die. I put ourselves in this mess. I have to die again in order to correct everything. 

Fierdan: *with a hint of fear in his voice* You're not gonna die! Stop it! 

Duke: I'm the person behind the static, behind the reason why they called you Danny, behind the reason we're the only ones living in here. You said yourself that this is all meaningless, and that we're "working" in order to maintain that false sense of feeling like we're useful. It was me this whole time! 

Fierdan: *stands next to Duke* That's it. What are you doing? 

Duke: *takes out the sharpest knife in the kitchen drawer, makes sure Fierdan can't see it* You'll thank me later. I'm sorry it has to end this way. I love you. Goodbye.

Fierdan: *is about to tackle Duke to stop him from doing whatever he plans on doing, speaks softly in that moment though* Please, stop it. Don't do it. 

[Before Fierdan touches Duke, the act Duke planned on doing all along has been completed. Fierdan only knows that Duke took out the longest and sharpest knife in the drawer after.. well, after he sees the knife. Fierdan turns Duke around to see that the knife stabbed through Duke's shirt and is firmly lodged in the same location that Fierdan stabbed Duke in. Over half of the long knife blade has been stabbed into his body, right where the "hole" scar is, right where his heart is. This is the only way that Duke can immediately die. The amount of blood increases. It stains his white shirt red. There's a terrified look in Fierdan's eyes as he has Duke in his arms, and his body goes limp and collapses. This time, however, Duke's body stays as it is. His limp body lies in Fierdan's arms. The front of his shirt is stained red, and some of the blood has gotten onto Fierdan's shirt and pants. Fierdan checks for signs of breathing or any heartbeat; he can't find any. Duke is dead.] 

Fierdan: *desperately checks over and over* Stop with your sick prank, you bastard! *notices Duke's unmoving body* Stop it.. please.. *screams* Duke! *tears well up and fall out of his eyes, some of which that mix with the blood that's drying up* Please no.. no.. please... *wraps one of his hand's fingers around the knife handle* Don't leave me alone. Please... *finally pulls out the blood-covered blade* Duke... *brushes his fingertips along the blade, stops at the tip and lets out a sound that's the very definition of heartache* 

[Five minutes pass- nothing changes. Ten minutes pass- nothing changes. Twenty minutes pass- nothing changes. An hour passes. Two hours pass. Three hours. Four hours. Nothing changed. Duke's plan didn't work. He died. There's nothing good about it. It's nothing short of an unexpected tragedy.]

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