You know this whole exile thing is exhausting and boring. I feel like that's the point. It feels like I am in prison. Can exile be considered a punishment for crime? I think so. Some days, part of me feels like I didn't do anything wrong. I am aware of what I done. But part of me feels like this is wrong. I don't know.
Dream. The one person who I hate the most comes here at one o'clock on the dot to do either one or two things. Annoy me or stare at me with glee. Dream, the person I was always against besides one battle. Dream, I fucking hate that guy so much it seems like some days we could be friends. Dream, the guy who tubbo escorted me out my country.
"What another lovely day out here don't you think Tommy?" A masked man says behind me.
"What the fuck do you need Dream? More armor? Power?" I say, Dream is one of the only people I can't show any sign of hurt emotions or he will use it for his advantage.
"Oh come on now." Dream says walking towards my tent that I hold my few items I have and takes my resources, nothing new. Something about today and in this moment makes me say this to him: "Dream, can I come home?" I look into his blank green eyes.
"Tommy. I may be your best friend." I flinch when I hear those two words. "I can't let you go back, besides no one wants you there. Not even Tubbo. Stop trying." He responds, I shake my hand in anger and slap his head and face that isn't covered by the mask. Dream shakes it off and shoves me into the sand and punches me and I just lie there.
"You are such a loser, Tommy." He says walking away into the distance, leaving me here. I shakly, sit up, and say while he walks away. "Fuck you." He is such a piece of shit, he always knows what pushes me to the edge. It's exhausting being this way. I slowly close my eyes and hear the noises of the world fade away.
