Tommy was dead.
Nothing more, nothing less.
That was all he could say.
He couldn't say that it was loud or quiet.
Everything was like whispered screams.
He couldn't say that it was bright or dark.
Everything was like a sunny night.
He couldn't say that it was hot or cold.
Everything was like burning ice.
He couldn't say that it was calm or chaotic.
Everything was like a deserted Black Friday store.
He couldn't say that it was possible or impossible.
Everything was like a walking wheelchair-bound person.
He couldn't say that it was healed or hurt.
Everything was like a bleeding cut that felt nothing.
He couldn't say that it was familiar or unfamiliar.
Everything was like going down the same road but ir being a new experience.
He couldn't say that it was important or unimportant.
Everything was like a compass that went through shit but meant nothing.
He couldn't say that it was new or the same.
Everything was like his everyday life.
He couldn't say that it was everything or nothing.
It was all coming at him at once, but at the same time as slowly as possible.
And suddenly...
A hand pressed to his forehead.
Tommy looked up from his ball.
A familiar face in all the strangeness.
His eyes widened when he saw Tommy.
"Tommy..?" Wilbur asked.
"What're you doing here..?"
"I'm dead, Wilby..."
"I'm free."
#Speedrunning shit
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Tommyinnit oneshots (mostly angst)
FanfictionJust some oneshots of tommy TW swearing, suicide, death, neglect, angst, swearing, abuse, abandonment, war, blood, gore, manipulation, running away, mentions of smut, child neglect, child abandonment, about like everything: i no longer lik...
