life on the line. || W. Soot ~ Angstfic

☆ Chapter 1 ~ Out For a Walk ☆

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Ages:

Techno: 20 Years old

Wilbur: 16 Years old

Tommy: 13 Years old

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Wilbur's POV

It was the evening of February 16th, and I could feel the bitter breeze brush against my face. I wasn't wearing anything special - after all, it was only a trip to the park - but I had made sure to wear something warm. With a soft sigh, I rested my head against the back of the cold, wooden bench, staring at the empty black sky with glazed brown eyes. Each breath I exhaled emanated into the frosty air and my hands were a diluted red, I could barely feel my fingers. The faint chirps of crickets and rustling of leaves echoed in my ears, those were the only sounds I could hear. No one was around, it was quiet. Tranquil. Comforting. I didn't want to go back home, not yet anyway. It wouldn't matter what time I went back anyway, they didn't care. They were most likely eating dinner without me, but whatever I suppose. It was much nicer being here than there. The sky soon bored me, and so I fumbled in my pocket for my phone, pulling it out and turning it on. Shit.

My eyes widened at the notifications. Two missed calls from Techno, five missed calls from Phil. They were from a while ago, too. I quickly flicked to my messages.

-----------------

Phil

Hey, Wil, just wondering when you're coming back?
Sent at 6:07pm

Phil

Wil? You alright, son?
Sent at 6:31pm

Phil

Wilbur?
Sent at 7:10pm

Phil

I'm guessing you're busy. The door's unlocked, please don't be out too long. It's cold tonight. Call me if you need anything.
Sent at 7:53pm

-----------------

I felt a stab of guilt as I read each message. Should I reply? It's been a while.. I tried to find the words to say, but at first my mind was blank. Every idea I had seemed to wither away immediately. After a few minutes, I tapped the keypad with my thumbs, the bright phone screen reflected in my rimmed glasses.
-----------------
Wilbur

Hey, Dad. Sorry for the late reply, didn't see the messages. I'm ok, I'll make my way back now.
Sent at 9:32pm

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I rested my head in my palms. The grass swaying gently below my boots, I sat for a few minutes to enjoy the last of what'd be a relaxing, calm evening then lifted myself off the bench. It was cold.. very cold. Despite how much I enjoyed the last few hours, I just yearned to sit in front of the fireplace, with a mug of steaming hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and melting marshmallows held in my numb red hands. That'd be nice.

Unbeknown to me whether Phil had replied or not, I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and began to walk towards where the exit would be. It wasn't too long of a walk, yet even halfway down the trail I could already feel my legs aching with each step I took - I wasn't very fit, that was for sure. Maybe that's why I was so fat.. Oh well, I'm sure it's normal.

The familiar deafening sound of cars roaring down the roads echoed in my ears, so I pulled my charcoal-black beanie over them. Didn't work. Huffing in defeat, I waded towards a crossing and pressed the button. Within a minute, the red man symbolising stop disappeared, and the green man flashed on the screen above the red traffic lights. I made my way across. The house wasn't far from here, just a few more blocks down. Apart from the cars and yells from people drinking outside the local pub, there was barely any noise. It was so quiet that I could hear my breaths from under my turtleneck jumper which I'd rolled up at the top to cover more of my neck.

I arrived at the door, gave a quick knock and pushed the handle down. It was unlocked, just as Phil has said. I took off my coat and hung it on one of the pegs, then pulled off my gloves and beanie and placed them on the side. The lights were off - everything was so dark. Perhaps Tommy was being put to bed, Techno was probably reading. I kicked off my boots and made my way over to the stairs, ambling up to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I tried my best to not look into the mirror, but I found that my best wasn't enough. My deep brown eyes glanced up, then locked onto my reflection. That walk sure didn't do much I huffed, rotating myself slightly to assess how much weight I'd lost from that small trip to the park. Then, something snatched my attention: though the tap was running, I could hear... guitar strings? It was faint, but easily identifiable to my ears. What the hell? I spat out the extra toothpaste with narrowed eyes, turning my head towards the door. I knew what I heard. The unprofessional, painful tune rung in my ears, attacking them with a variety of buzzes and earsplitting strums.

I opened my bedroom door to see Tommy, sat on my bed with my guitar in his palms. Phil was sat beside him, humming along, so he had clearly been given permission. That little...

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

878 words

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