[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]"I wanted to go home, I wanted to go home, I wanted to go home," Morrissey stuttered, the males once sharp and piercing blue eyes softened and stinging with tears. They were dull now. He was weak.
This was another one of his fits, if you could call them that. Or maybe attacks? Whatever they were, it was clear he was upset. Not only this, but he looked tired. Everything exhausted him and he felt like he had bags of rocks and weights tied to each leg and around his neck. "But then I realized he is my home. He's made this place my home, damn it." It was hard to tell what emotions were surging through him - they well all jumbled and amplified; there was anger but also great upset and sadness, but also the sound of near helplessness. Oh, he was so lost. So out of it.
And finally, he was silently crying, curled up. All of this was too much to handle. He was like a vulnerable child. Maybe that self induced isolation really did turn him into some sort of mad man. "A-Arcade, please," he weeped, "I can't do this. I d-don't want to keep everything bottled up anymore. I don't want to be this way, I don't want to be me, I don't want to go without you again. I'm so scared one day I'm going to kill myself and not think anything of it when I do."
Morrissey wasn't sure if the fellow BlizzardClanner could even hear him. "Stay with me, p-please, make sure I don't become an imbecile and do that. I can't leave this place because of you. I've got to protect you and I can't do that because I can't even protect myself. Arcade, Arcade, I care too much for you, and it's going to r-ruin me." Oh, how he rambled on and on. Most of it made no sense. Moz couldn't process all the painful, roaring thoughts that bounced around his skull. It was as if he was hearing a million voices, each telling him something else on what to say and what not, each scolding him. All make his head about to split.