Chapter Six: Mornings Part 2

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[Edited]

TW: language, death, murder

Hello pogchamp readers, and thank you for sticking with me so far! When I first wrote this chapter, I had 42 views and nine votes. Now I have 3.9 thousand views and 227 votes! Thank you so much for all of your support whether that is just to stick around and keep reading or voting and letting me know that you like the story whatever you are doing, thank you. And thank you for reading my authors notes if your reading this. Not everyone does. So . . . here is a cool face, O('-'Q). And here's an owl. (;v;) And here's a dude sitting on his phone if you look at it at the right angle &. 

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Tubbo's POV

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"What the FUCK are you doing?" A boy who looking like he must have woken up, only moments ago, stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Shit! Did I do something wrong? Maybe I made too much noise? Maybe they don't like me because I am taking his attention away? Maybe he doesn't like me overall? I mean, he doesn't have anything to hurt me with. Thats a good sign so far. But it is the kitchen and there are forks and knives. Fuck he's coming over to me. I must have done something wrong.

"So... what are you doing?" The boy repeated more gently stepping into the light so I could see him clearer. He wore a bright yellow jumper and had chocolate colored hair.

But before I could answer the other boy seemed to figure out who I was without my help.

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Wilbur's POV

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Grumble.

Ugh. There goes my somach again for what had to be the third time this morning. I guess I wasn't going to be chilling in bed for a bit more without getting food.

Sighing softly to myself, I climbed out of bed and walked over to my closet to get clothing for today before remembering that I went to bed last night in my cloths. 

Going back to the front of my room without feeling the need to change anymore, I swung the door open quickly, so it wouldn't make much noise creaking open. That actually works. Just be careful not to hit anybody with the door if you try doing it. I slowly walked out of my room avoiding all the creaks in the floor, knowing exactly where the loudest ones are from the last year or so of being adopted my Phil, trying not to wake him up. Techno could sleep through a hurricane, so I wasn't worried about waking him up. I just didn't want to deal with a grumpy Phil for the rest of the day.

To explain the part about being adopted by Phil, my parents where murdered when I was younger so, I don't really remember them very much therfore I cannot exactly miss them. I used to wish that they were never murdered (and sometimes I still do) but now I'm happy with Phil, Techno and yes, even Tommy the gremlin child himself. If they weren't murdered, I never would have met them. So I am kind of glad that they were murdered. I know that sounds sick, but now I have my own family.

Plus I doubt that they would have been able to help me. When I was twelve, I discovered I could do extrodinary things. Whenever I wanted to, I could make myself go invisible and faze through things. Phil helped me figure out and master my powers. I would be totally lost without him.

But back to the subject of my parents. All I remember of the night that they were killed was them being stabbed by a man with blonde hair and a green cloak. Weird choice of clothing, right? I personally think that my sweater that has been worn two days in a row looks much better then that choice of clothing.

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