What one can hide

Chapter eleven- Dodgeball

Trigger warnings-mentions of abuse

Tommy groaned as he heard the all too familiar tune of his alarm ring in his ears. He turned to his phone to silence the noise. It had felt like it took so much energy just to shut off his alarm, but he had to get out of bed. The warm blankets seemed like they were screaming his name, telling him to come lay back down.

With one swift motion, Tommy quite literally rolled out of bed before he could have the chance to close his eyes and let the sleep take over him once again. As his feet made their way to the cold wooden floor, his bedroom began to spin. His head was pounding as the memories of the night before stormed into his brain.

He remembered his dad, punching him so hard he passed out, and his friends finding out about everything.

As the room slowly stopped spinning, Tommy bent down to grab his phone off the charger. His eyes skimmed over a few notifications from a group chat with Wilbur, Techno, and Dream. He had a hard time making out the sentences, but finally read that all of them were wishing him the best and to let them know if he shows any signs of injury.

He typed out a short response, thanking them all and asking if they wouldn't mind keeping it between the four of them. Tommy knew they wouldn't respond for a little while, as it was pretty early in the morning, but he assumed that they would all respect his wish, no matter how bad they all wanted him to reach out.

Tommy let his phone slip out of his fingers and fall onto the bed as he made his way over to his closet, he felt dizzy again but chose to ignore it as he picked out an outfit. The cut on his head hurt much worse than it did when he first got it yesterday, and today he could feel the welts on his back a lot more. Each step he took, it felt like someone was hammering his head, but the best he could do for now was take some off-brand pain medication he had hidden in his room that he bought for when things got bad.

As Tommy changed into an outfit, he walked over to where he kept the medication and downed two of them with a water bottle on his desk from last night. He looked out the window and saw the wet sidewalk beginning to glow as the sun started to rise. Disregarding all the pain he was in, Tommy felt a little bit at peace looking at his window at the rising sun. Something about the way all the colors melted together made him feel warm inside, despite the coolness of his room.

A soft ringing in Tommy's ear has been present since he woke up and had been getting more prominent as time went on. Deciding it was almost starting to get too much to handle, he plugged his headphones into his phone and opened his playlist he knew all too well. One of Wilbur's new songs started playing, immediately drowning out the ringing. Tommy would never admit it, but he actually enjoyed Wilburs music. It was nice being able to hear his voice whenever he needed it, always quick to calm him down.

He continued on with his normal morning routine, skipping his usual morning shower, feeling too weak and tired to bring himself to step into the water. The music made the morning much more bearable.

After brushing his teeth, Tommy looked up at the deep gut on his forehead, wondering how he would be able to cover it up. He debated trying to cover it with makeup, but he knew it wouldn't be good to get that stuff in an open wound. His next idea was to have his hair covering it, but it wasn't quite long enough to hide it completely. A hat would've worked if his school wasn't so strict with dress code and actually allowed hats. Tommy ended up deciding on just putting a bandaid over the cut, hoping nobody would notice the purple discoloration that the small bandain just couldn't cover.

The bandaid was on and secure as he made his way out of the bathroom and down the steps. His backpack was waiting for him by the front door, right where he left it. He really did not want to go to school today, but he didn't want to spend any more time home with his dad than he needed to. No matter how much he hated school, it was a distraction and home was always worse, so he flung his bag over his shoulder and began his walk to school. He hadn't even bothered to look in the fridge, knowing there wouldn't be any food.