Tommyinnit // [ MCYT ] Angst Oneshots

i cant [1]

AU: Everyone lives in London ||| Wilbur lives with his roommates, Karl and (J)Schlatt /// SBI family

TW: Self-Harm, Suicide, Eating Disorders, Vomiting, Death (not of characters don't worry)

Wilbur's pov

It was half-past midnight. I'd been laying in my bed for hours, unable to fall asleep. There are many possible answers to why. It could be the suicidal thoughts that won't leave my head, it could be the nagging nausea in my stomach from eating some pizza, or it could be the caffeine I drank earlier today. Like I said. . . many reasons.

I need to cry, desperately, but I can't seem to break any tears. I see people complain about crying so often, but they've never experienced the dread of not crying. The pain of feeling so sad, that it actually hurts to the point where you just want to let it all out but you can't.

You see, crying gives you at least a bit of relief, it may not seem like it but it's definitely there. I get my relief from slitting my arms up until I can't bear to look at the stinging damage for how ashamed and stupid I feel afterwards. Then I tell myself it's the last time, but what I tell are lies, complete blithering fibs.

I looked at my phone, resting on the nightstand next to a glass of water. I sighed, pushing myself to a sitting position.

I probably should kill myself, I mean, who would really care if I were to just disappear. The world would eventually move on, and that's how I'd want it to be. People would find a new person to watch and my friends would find new people to play with, replacing me as if I were a cracked windshield on a car.

I solemnly looked at my phone, wanting to speak to someone badly. In fact, I was scared that if I didn't speak to someone I'd end up dead, but, I wouldn't want to be a bother, especially at this time, I mean who'd be awake at this time of night?

I grabbed my phone and turned it on, accidentally switching to the camera. God, I look. . . greyish, well, I wouldn't expect anything else, my body is basically begging to throw up at this point. I sighed, exiting the camera and unlocking my phone, heading to discord. I got up to go to the washroom.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked so dead, if anyone saw me they'd probably send me to the hospital. I opened the mirror up and saw the shelf, laced with random toiletries and some pills that someone had accidentally left here when they stayed over. When I told them about it they told me to just throw it out because they had more at their house, but I never ended up doing it.

I started to zone out, lost in the thought of just swallowing them all. How long would it take someone to find me? How long would I need to be unactive for the internet to go crazy? Would the doctors be able to save me if I did end up getting found? I sighed and sat down laying against the bathtub.

I could always call the suicide hotline. . . I picked up my phone, pulling up the dial-up screen. Well, there's someone out there that could probably use the help more than I would. I sighed, banging my head against the bathtub.

I heard someone knock on the door.

"Hey, Wil? You alright in there?" Schlatt asked carefully, "you've been in there for a while."

"Wha- y-yeah," my voice shook nervously and I mentally face-palmed, I don't think I sounded believable at all.

"Would you like to talk to someone?" He asked, "you've seemed very down recently."

I looked up at the door. I would love to speak to you, but I don't want to burden you with my problems, and I'm sure you have your own issues-

"Can I come in?" Schlatt spoke, tapping his fingertips against the door.

"Y-yeah," I spoke, sighing.

Whatever, I've been begging for help but when it comes I just push it away, I guess it's finally time to actually open up to someone.

Schlatt slowly pushed open the door, slipping inside the washroom and shut the door behind him quietly. I looked away at the wall awkwardly.

Schlatt knelt down next to me, sitting up against the bathtub. He put his arm around me and pulled me into a hug.

"Relax, it'll be alright," he whispered.

I hadn't even realized how tense I was, but I listened and let myself relax a bit and leaned into the hug. I felt myself feel sadder and sadder as I tried to figure out what to say first, running through everything I could tell him.

"Are you feeling sick?" He asked.

I nodded. Schlatt lifted up his hand to my forehead, just to test if I was burning up or not, which I knew I wasn't. I'd just had too much pizza.

"You don't have a fever," Schlatt spoke.

"Yes, I know," I mumbled back, "I-I just ate too much."

"You barely had a slice?" He said.

I looked down sadly and felt tears prick my eyes.

"I'm sorry you're going through this," Schlatt whispered.

"Schlatt I-I'm going to throw up," I whimpered after a bit.

"Here, toilet," he said, lifting up the lid.

I leant over the basin, trying to take deep breaths. I retched into the toilet, but I couldn't spit up anything. I groaned before burping up a bit of the dinner, I'd eaten. Schlatt rubbed my back, soothing me. I took in a few breaths before feeling the vomit come up my throat once again, and I spat it out into the basin, wincing at the horrible noise. I sat for a moment, a precarious string of saliva falling from my mouth.

"I-I'm just so tired. . ." I mumbled, leaning away from the basin and laying on the floor, feeling a headache start to form.

I started sobbing and curled up into a ball, feeling my headache worsen. Schlatt dimmed the lights a bit, looking down at me.

"Let me get you some water," he spoke, leaving the room.

He returned with a glass of water and leant down next to me, I sat up, gladly accepting the water with shaking hands. I took a small sip, then placed it down next to me.

"S-Schlatt," I whimpered.

"Yes?" He spoke, "what's wrong?"

"I-I can't s-stop thinking about--- a-about killing myself," my lip wobbled.

He nodded slowly, "here, talk to me about it," he spoke calmly, moving to sit down next to me.

"I-I just- m-my mother is in the hospital, s-she doesn't have much time left and I can't even get out of bed---" I spoke getting angry with myself, "god damnit- I-I don't know what to do anymore."

"Tell you what, let's visit her tomorrow, no matter what, okay?" Schlatt spoke.

"O-okay," I nodded a quick small nod.

"I'll drive you," Schlatt spoke.

I nodded, tearing up again.

"I know it's hard, it'll be alright," Schlatt rubbed my back as I buried my head into my knees, "are you still feeling sick?"

"Mmmm, a-a little bit," I spoke.

"Would you like to have a bowl in your room while you sleep just in case?"

"Y-yeah," I sputtered.

"Alright, you head to bed and I'll bring you the bowl."

I nodded, getting up and grabbing the glass of water, bringing it to my room and setting it down on the nightstand. I laid down on my bed, getting under the covers.

Schlatt came in and placed the basin down next to me on the other side of the bed, "It'll be right here if you need it again, now try and get some sleep, alright?"

"O-okay, g-goodnight."

"Night."

I lay in bed, thinking about Schlatt. I liked him, not just as a friend. I loved him. Although, why would he love me. I don't think he's gay, although there are lots of mixed signals on the internet. He has an "I heart gay porn" magnet on the fridge, but he also shouts at everyone who calls him gay. Honestly, I can't figure it out. And if he was, why would he love me? Sad pathetic little me.