Knuckles x F!reader (DISCONTINUED/REWRITING-ISH)

Prologue/backstory

(a/n) who doesn't love some edge and stuff to add a bit of spice to our lovely Y/N?

TW: guilt trip, not the best parents, burn scar, death

Your POV

I woke up slowly and rubbed my tired eyes. I hadn't been able to sleep very well and felt cold. I'd try to get better sleep, even go to bed early, but I get too stressed. My stress comes from my parents though. And I don't mean it like I inherited a heart condition, I mean they stress me out themselves.

I don't think I should complain though. They aren't hitting me and they've gone through worse. Mom always tells me how her mother used to nearly kill her for don't one thing wrong so I shouldn't be complaining and I should be more great ful.

I've forced myself not to say no to them. One time I did say no to going with my mom to the pharmacy because I couldn't handle being in public (cough, introvert/antisocial, cough). My dad then yelled at me for being selfish because my mom had accidentally cut her finger.

Whenever they get stressed, I do too. I think it's because I care about them and don't want them to be stressed since they do so much. But, I do get scared too. What if I get yelled out for something that wasn't my fault? Mom has scolded me and said that they never do that and I can barely remember anything... But I feel like it did happen.

Enough of that though... When I walked into the dining room, my parents were already eating their breakfast. I ate mine too, savoring the sweet taste of the fresh pancakes.

See, they aren't bad people. They feed and house me, nothing is wrong. Every parent yells at their kid every once in a while.

When I finished my dad immediately told me to wash my dish while I was already heading to the sink to do it. I hummed in response as he got out of his chair and to the couch to put a movie or something.

"Y/N, you need to clean your room today and clean the kitchen counters." My mom instructed.

"But, I didn't make the mess on the counters..." I responded. She shit me a hard glare before she spoke.

"Does it matter who did it? I told you to do it, so do it." She said, slightly raising her voice. I anxiously looked down and nodded.

But you always say that I'm supposed to clean up after myself. Why can't you?

Maybe she's just too busy to clean the mess. She does over time on the weekends sometimes, maybe she just needs to go do it.

I quickly cleaned the counters and decided I should clean the stove too to avoid being yelled at again. I'm gonna be yelled at sooner or later today but I might as well avoid it while I can.

When I touched one of the burners with my towels, my hand felt like it had been lit ablaze. I screamed in pain.

My dad immediately rushed into the kitchen with my mom close behind.

"What happened now!?" My mom screeched.

"I was gonna clean the stove but when I went to wipe it, I burned my hand." I said, voice shaky and slightly stuttering.

"Ugh... Why can't you be more careful..?" My mom muttered before grabbing the non burnt hand and taking me to the car, rushing me to the ER.

I cried the whole time, flinching when my mom moved my hand to check it and make sure it wouldn't get infected. It was painful and looked like some skin had been burned off.

"I swear... One day your father is going to burn the house down if he keeps leaving the stove on..." My mother said as she turned into the ER parking lot. This was one of the times we both knew I wasn't guilty of anything, but her stress made me feel guilty.