Conquering Nightmares of the Past

8: Scars Will Fade, But Never Disappear

this ones a lot, boys

tw//MAJOR SELF-HARM, BLOOD, mentions of drugs (only used for a comparison, but im mentioning it anyway, just in case.)

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22 days.

Wilbur has been living with Phil for 22 days and nothing has happened. He should be taking advantage of this for his own gain, using Phil as much as he can before he inevitably breaks and Wilbur can never get anything from him again.

Yet he hasn't been doing that. In fact, he's been basically ignoring him. He comes down for meals and says a few words in the car rides to and from school but, apart from that, they don't interact.

Wilbur knows that acting like this is what gets you yelled at, or worse, but every time he sees Phil his thoughts start moving so quickly that he can't comprehend them and he gets a headache every time he even attempts to predict what Phil's going to do next.

It's scary as hell.

At least he has one place of emotional calm, that being school. Classes keep his mind occupied on something that he actually understands and Schlatt and Eret make him so happy, he doesn't think it's physically possible not to smile when he's around them. No matter how down he looks or feels, they cheer him up instantly.

He doesn't know what his life would be like without them. Which brings him to right now. Sitting on the floor of the bathroom that was basically his, given that Phil had his own downstairs, shaking as tears rolled down his cheeks.

His alarm clock hadn't gone off this morning, for whatever reason, so Phil had woken him up about ten minutes later. The lateness wasn't a problem, it was the fact that Phil initiating his morning like this meant he was in for so much more interaction with Phil than normal.

Phil had talked to him much more over breakfast and in the car this morning, as Wilbur had apprehensively expected. Then school was awful as well.

First period was gym, his least favourite, though the coach was alright, but the coach had been sick and the replacement was a fucking drill sergeant who had the entire class running countless laps of the court. Once they finished and their legs were dangerously close to collapsing beneath them, he made them do way too many push-ups, pull-ups and sit-ups. His entire body felt like one of those fucking string cheese stick things.

The worst part, though, by far, was that Schlatt wasn't there. He optimistically (since when was he fucking optimistic?) played it off as Schlatt sleeping in, or skipping gym, but he wasn't there for the next three classes either.

When lunch came around, Wilbur was so fucking done with the day, completely ready for Eret to brighten his day, like always, but when he looked around the disturbingly crowded room, Eret wasn't at their usual table, or anywhere else for that matter.

What are the fucking chances that the first day Schlatt is home, Eret's home too. A harsh voice in his head whispered that he didn't have a home, and his mood dropped even further.

A small part of him wondered if they really were home sick, or if they were just avoiding him. Everyone else left him, he wouldn't be surprised if they wanted to as well. He would be heartbroken if that happened, but he was used to it. (He ignored the fact that them leaving would hurt so much worse than anyone else before)

His day only seemed to get worse as Phil picked him up and was in an extra cheery mood. Normally Phil's good mood and happy attitude would (unwillingly) cheer him up, if only slightly, but today it just reminded him of everything he had and didn't deserve, forcing him lower into his seat with every word he heard the other speak.