Roomate for Sale!

The Impromptu Grocery Trip™

Wilbur's mind feels hazy. He cannot move his head, eyes staring into the distance on one spot. The world is a pure, shining white that echoes around him, and the world is peaceful.

The world cannot help the unease that creeps up in his spine.

Wilbur cannot move. It's almost as if his limbs are nonexistent- he's a floating head in a world that doesn't make sense, no body to connect to. Without a neck, he cannot turn his head. Wilbur stared forward blankly and waits for something to happen.

And it does. A small droplet of red- it's a speckle of color that's nearly invisible in the blinding white, but Wilbur sees it anyways and zone in on it. One droplet of red turns into two- and then something snaps, and like a waterfall the red is suddenly everywhere, infecting the white and turning everything blood red, red, red-

Wilbur cannot do anything as the white is overtaken by the red. The red looks shiny, as if a thick warm liquid- but that's just him assuming things. He cannot feel- he doesn't have a body.

The red liquid- blood, Wilbur realizes, shifts and forms as the white disappears fully. His world is covered in red, dripping echoing in his ears and down his face and-

There is a face forming in the red, eyes half lidded and hazy similar to his own. Wilbur recognizes this man. His drunken ex-roomate, with blood dripping out of his nose as he chokes on his saliva.

Others emerge. Wilbur recognizes them as well. They are similar to his former roommate.

Dying.

..

Wilbur jolts up in a cold sweat, his heart in his throat and mind still reeling from the nightmare he's just had. Stupid fucking nightmares-

Wilbur pulls his mind in to focus on his surroundings. Warmth surrounds him, soft blankets covering his bare arms as his chest heaves, trying to calm down his racing heart. His clothes stick to his skin from sweat. The world is black, but that is only because it is nighttime, and Wilbur was trying to sleep. Wilbur welcomes the darkness with open arms. He'd rather the world be painted in black than red-

He hasn't had that nightmare in a long time, but whenever he does have it, it haunts him, nearly plaguing his thoughts for the next week or so before it recedes back into the hazy recesses of his memory. Stupid fucking-

It isn't real, he has to remind himself, it's not real.

All his friends are alive and well, living their best lives as they should be. His paranoia is most likely caused by added stress from schoolwork- but that nightmare usually occurs during mid-terms and finals weeks, not at the beginning of the semester-

Weird.

Reoccurring stress-induced nightmares suck.

After another moment of silence where his heart is calmed down but the hairs on the back of his neck still haven't relaxed- Wilbur's suddenly aware of a stare burning into the side of his head- and his heart skipped a beat-

Someone was staring at him-

Wilbur turns his head to the stare, wide eyed and confused and-

Oh.

It's Tommy, his roommate. He's sat up in bed, body faced towards Wilbur with his face illuminated by the light of his Nintendo switch. He's just- staring at Wilbur as he plays the game, thumbs moving rapidly on the mini joysticks- never once glancing at the game, playing it blindly as he stared at Wilbur with wide eyes.

Wilbur recoiled. What the fuck?

A split second glance to the digital clock on his bedside table-

3:01 AM