Edit from fucking 2023: this book is from 2021, I'm not fixinf any of it because it's funny as hell to look back on my writing
COMPLETE(?)//UNDER EDITING// The beginning chapters were written when I was at a younger age, they get longer and assumin...
Y/N had well already bolted from the gate, running up the hill, the cold air poking at their lungs,
Tears streaming down their cheeks.
How fast could a four-year-old possibly run?
Y/N looked up to see Ray waiting at the top of the hill for them, with a lantern.
Y/N felt their knees give out below them as they slumped down on the grass in front of ray, the boy staring at them. "Well?"
"I-I—" Was all Y/N could muster out, feeling Ray's cold and harsh eyes glaring down at them.
"Just tell me what you saw." He demanded.
Listening to them choke back on their own words was irritable,
And frankly, he couldn't care less.
Y/N's eyes widened, and they sat up onto their heels. "Y-You—"
"Yeah. I know." Ray said, sitting down next to Y/N. "Mom'll be back soon. You should go to bed."
"How can I go to bed after that..?" The child questioned below a breath, "N-No, what was that..."
"Demons." Ray said, staring forwards at the gate as the lantern swayed in his hand.
"Those.. those things.. I-I thought they were just—"
Y/N tried to explain their confusion. The best they could. Their hurried thoughts, harsh panting. Questions, anger, sadness. The dewy grass against their legs and their sweat stained hair, tying in with the rapid beating of their heart.
"Mom's coming." Ray interrupted while Y/N's head snapped back towards the gate, seeing as it was closing, and the lights had been turned off.
Y/N quickly scurried to their feet, their mind scrambling from the situation.
Ray watched them with a bored expression.
In all honesty he felt bad, of course. But what could be do?
He had a job.
And he was dragging Y/N down with him.
After being enveloped into the warmth of plant three's abode, they hurried upstairs.
The floorboards creaked below their harsh steps, and they tripped over their own feet a few times.
Glancing over at Norman's and Emma's sleeping figures briefly, they slid into bed, tugging the knitted blanket over their head.
They let out a few shaky breaths, clenching their eyes shut as the warm liquid dripped from their eyes, to the pillow below their head.
They didn't care if they woke anyone up at this point,
