Oh My God Is This Really Happening?

How Our World Starts

A/N I WROTE THIS IN A WEEK OOPS. It was forever ago, but I decided not to edit it cuz it sucks. So have fun with this mess lol. 

ALSO there's a lot of possible triggers in here, I'm basically gonna try to hit all the bases intentionally.  A few deadly triggers being OH MY GOD THE GAY DISEASE RUNNN!!!! SAVE YOURSELVES!!!! and the *gasps* EMOVIRUS AHHHHH!!!! and also references to my favorite fanfic (y'all know, it's too obvious). 

-love u, sage x 

Have you ever been sad? 

Have you ever dreaded talking to someone? 

Have you ever loved someone so deeply that you eyes bulge and sparkle and rainbows shoot out of your ears and the hearts of all the stoners in the whole alleyway that you sleep in melt, turning into pools of tainted liquid happiness? And then you're ripped away from that person you love and taken into someone else's arms, someone so desperate to hold you and hurt you and ruin you? 

And overtime you understand that you'll never see them again, so you let yourself sink in and get used to the routine of being a slave in every manor possible, being tortured, and then being a slave again? 

... until one night you have a dream. And that night it's not a nightmare. That one night, your mind allows you to be at peace, and so you dream. You dream of infinite possibilities, you dream of happiness. Joy fills the air of your thoughts and you're back in the arms of the one you love. The one you've forgotten about until now. The one you tried so hard to forget because their memory only brings you pain. 

And then you wake up. 

You wake up on a dirty blanket that's sitting on old splintering planks, curled up in front of the only other person there; the other prisoner. And you can't stop thinking about Frank. 

----

"Oi! Gerard! Get yer arse in here! I need a damn slut!" 

My legs are stiff, I don't want to move. But I have to. I know I have to. 

My legs are almost robotic, stiff and hesitant as I trudge up the creaky wooden stairs, leaving Billie alone in the darkness of the basement. The basement we live in, the basement of Daddy Shrek's house. 

I'm weighted. 

I've been thinking about Frank a lot recently which has made me more lethargic and just done with life. I wonder if he still loves me. If he still wants to have my babies. We would've named them something unique and they would've been good kids. Like Bandit, or Cherry. Something weird. And then we would get a dog, Frankie loves dogs, and her name would be something normal for a human to be named. Like Susan. 

Fuck, I wish I never had that dream about Frank. 

I look down at my chewed and bloody nails, hoping they'd distract me from the hell that lurked both inside my mind and outside it. 

I had a total of 6 fingernails, actually. Shrek removed every other nail, making a nice pattern. He said they looked bad anyway and he was just trying to make me into a pretty pretty princess. I still remembered how much it stung when he wrapped alcohol around my unsheathed fingertips, how could I ever forget? 

Dread held me down, I was walking slowly today. But I don't want to see Daddy Shrek, so I'm slow, though he demands I come to him and so I must oblige. I knew avoiding him only made it worse.. 

Like last time. 

"Gerard!" 

My heart beat rapidly as I reached the top of the stairs, my once jet-black hair faded and stuck with blood and other things I'd rather not think about falling into my face. It's grown out a lot over these past two years, not being able to cut it once. It's filthy and tangled-- I haven't showered in weeks, I probably smelled god-awful.