Burnout - An Inanimate Insanity Fanfic

4 - Lost in Thought

**[WARNING!]**

**[THIS STORY CONTAINS: ABUSE, SELF HARM, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, AND GENERAL VIOLENCE]**

**[ GORE WARNING ]**

[ This specific chapter goes through some really deep themes following domestic violence and intruding thoughts. Please keep yourself safe as you read. ]

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{ OJ POV }

OJ lay awake in bed. He felt so stupid. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did I say those things? Now they're not gonna let me step foot anywhere without someone next to me.'

He didn't bother looking at the clock. He knew it was late. But he felt so distant from his body to even try. He wasn't even tired. He was full of pent-up energy. Yet at the same time, he didn't feel like moving. It was this internal fight between wanting to move and just not wanting to get up. He took to stimming. Shaking his hands anxiously in an up and down manner. It kind of helped, but not really. He just felt overwhelmed now. His mind kept drifting back. Every second that passed he could feel himself being dragged further into the recesses of his mind. Before he knew it, he was met with a black void. He'd call out, but not even an echo. He'd walk around, but nothing would come to view. And then, he saw it. A small keyhole. He knelt down, looking through. He bit his lip down. He could see his parents, fighting. Then this void was his room. Figuring it out, it'd come to view. The room haunted him like a ghost. He looked around. Then, he felt a hand on his ankle. He looked down, and sure enough, something clutched his leg. The floorboards shook and began to fall out. Hands continued to grab at him. They wrapped around his legs, his hands, his body, his face. They dragged him down. He screamed in terror as tears dripped from his face. They dragged and clawed, and he screeched. His screams echoed through the hotel as he choked on his own blood. 

He gasped awake, the real world coming back into view. He looked around. He was in the bathroom. He looks to his hands and his eyes widened. One gripped a small, blood soaked, multitool. In the other, blood seeped from it. It trickled down from his fingers. He slowly dragged his gaze up towards his arm. His skin was raked deeply, down to the bone in a rugged, disgusting manner. The bone poked out of his arm. He breathed shakily as he spat up some blood.

OJ didn't know what to do. He grabbed some gauze, wrapping it. Hoping and praying that everything would be alright. He calmed himself down, cleaning up the bloodied mess he made from the floors and countertops. He took a deep breath. He knew he had to hide it. He still had to go pick up Bow, Goo, and the Cherries from school.

"OJ! You gotta get going!" He heard Soap call up to him.

"Gimme a second!"

OJ rushed to his room, snatching his coat. He ran down the steps, making sure his sleeves were pulled down.

"Alright. Let's go."

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{ Balloon POV }

I sat next to OJ in the passenger seat, head clouded with doubt and concern. I could hear the laughter of the kids from behind me, sharing their day with each other. My eyes drifted to the bandages on OJ's hands. I frowned. OJ took notice of me, glancing over.

"Did you need something?" He asked. His gaze wasn't a cruel one, and his voice was calm, yet sharp.

I bit my lip back. I wanted to ask him questions. I wanted to make sure he was okay. But I didn't know how to start. My jaw opened on instinct, gaping there, as OJ drove patiently.

"We're not so...different, are we?" I began.

OJ blinked. And then he chuckled. "What makes you say that?"

"Me and you, we...uh..." The words were suddenly lost on my tongue. "...We both struggle."

His eyes stayed locked on the road. "Define 'struggle'."

I frowned at his seemingly teasing voice. "We suffer in similar ways. Emotionally, and..." My eyes drifted to his blood-soaked sleeves. "...Physically."

His eye twitched and he frowned. "Balloon. I don't have this talk right now."

A small anger boiled inside me. "Well, when's the right time, huh?" I asked with a hint of anger.

"Not here."

"Oh, sure! It's never going to be the right time, is it?"

"Balloon. I am not going to have this conversation with you when there are children in the car."

"You're just gonna shove EVERYTHING down! You'll never tell anyone! And you know why!?"

OJ seethed heavily, clenching his teeth, gripping the wheel tightly. "It is not. The time. Or the place."

"NEWS FLASH OJ! People are gonna worry when you strike your arm!!!"

OJ turned to face me. "Would you shut your FUCKING mouth for a single second Balloon!? I am TIRED of hearing you yap and bark at me like some lost little fucking puppy! You may have me pegged as depressed and possibly fucking suicidal, but me and you are NOT alike in the slightest. UNLIKE you I didn't have a fucking childhood."

"Everyone has a childhood, OJ!"

"WERE YOU IN AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR PARENTS FOR 22 FUCKING YEARS!?"

My eyes widened in shock. Bot flinched and Goo shrank down. Even the Cherries watched in fear.

"WERE YOU STUCK PUTTING UP WITH BLOW AFTER FUCKING BLOW UNTIL YOU COULD AFFORD YOURSELF A HOUSE IN A HOTEL THAT YOU CAN BARELY AFFORD TO FUCKING KEEP ALIVE!? DO YOU LIVE EVERY DAY THINKING YOU'LL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH FOR ANYONE BECAUSE YOUR MIND IS CONVINCED THAT EVERYONE IS THE SAME AS YOUR VIOLENT ALCOHOLIC FATHER!? YOU TOOK THE ONE THING THAT KEPT THESE MEMORIES BACK AWAY FROM ME!!! I HATE YOU!!! " OJ sucked tears back, turning to the road. "You're lucky to even be at the hotel."

Silence. Nobody dared to break it. The tension was suffocating. Goo tried to lighten the mood.

"H-hey! What if we all listened to the radio together? I'm sure we can all find something to relate to on there, like those cream pies that come in both custard and jelly!" OJ opened his mouth.

"Goo."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Nobody talked the rest of the way home.