(HEAVILY BEING RE-WRITTEN!!!) Tommyinnit Oneshots ; Mostly Angst

Streamer by day, killer by night.

Sup.

Uh, sorry— I'm busy as Thursday is when I stay home for a week so more stories? Idk.

Anygay.

Tw/CW:

Death,
Blood,
Knives!,
Guns.

(Tommy has siblings because why not? He's the 2nd oldest, first is 20, next is 16, the middle is 14, younger is 6)
—

I am a streamer, well – once, I was.

I was a streamer, eighteen years old, no trouble.

Nothing.

I was a streamer, quite famous as well.

I was a streamer – full of laughter and joy, being annoying and hyper.

I was a streamer.

This tells you the way it went crashing down.

-

I woke up to the sound of the thunder and rain hitting my window for the fifth time tonight, I hardly had gotten any sleep from it. Storms happen nearly enough daily for some reason, I guess over time, it got annoying for my body to sleep with sound.

I hated waking up. And not because I'm in my depressed teen years, but because of what happens when I do. I hate opening my eyes in the morning, I hate sleeping at night. I cant control it but it just happens, no matter what I try. 

I always have the police come over to investigate my house soon after I open my eyes, its normally my mother calling them, telling them that it had happened again - which the police have gotten used to.

I'll cry, scream and plead but they will never tell me how it happened, they say I'm young and that I should be spending the rest of my days in luck because it hadnt happened to me. Its a curse.

They always leave me hanging... like my father four days ago, not telling me why he did it. They counted it as suicide, but it wasnt. He was the happiest man I knew. He hated leaving us, which is confusing. Because he has.

In my house – for the past month, were all pawns – apart of two things. Murder is one, surviving is another. Youre not lucky to survive.

I don't know how it happens, but Im so sure that the police do and they never tell.

-

I yawned and sat myself up, looking at the clock on my wall. I stretched and frowned to myself. It read, '9:43 AM'. Which for me isn't that late or early, normally I wake up at eleven, and then I get jump scared by the day just to sleep again.

I got up, looking at my reflection in my mirror.

I liked looking at myself, I like to think of myself as a model. Though I am lacking the things models need, I find myself to be one good-looking person.

I smile happily and chuckled, before grabbing my clothing, it was a simple outfit which is just jeans and a grey hoodie. I walked to my door and just as I was about to reach my door handle, I already heard the sirens. I latched onto the handle and turned it, wanting to see what happened this time. It was quiet, I heard crying but it was quiet – which meant bad. I ran downstairs – nearly tripping over shoes that lay there messily, looking around, for anything out of place, anything wrong. Anything dead.