Starlights ||Schlattbur||

20: Quit Your Bullshit

Warnings: Implied hanging/suicide

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Wilbur sat at his desk, staring out the window for probably the thirtieth time in just the class period. His teacher was really getting on his nerves. He had French right now, but right now his teacher decided to go back over the basics as there was a new student joining a semester through the school year. That's their own damn fault. Hold up, scratch that, it’s not.

Honestly, Wilbur couldn't blame the New Kid, who wouldn't want to learn the verbal language of love if it was offered right in your local high-school? Well, Wilbur wanted to, and that's why he was sitting here right now, translating almost everything that his teacher was speaking instantly. But then again you couldn't blame Wilbur for being bored as hell in a class he usually enjoys when they're going back over what he learned in French I, compared now to the third level of that. 

Wilbur groaned quietly and stared at the clouds in the sky.

"Monsieur Watson," His French teacher said, "S'il vous plaît présenter à la classe ton Français" Wilbur was standing in the very front of the class, him and the New Kid standing side by side. How the hell did he get up here? He could've sworn that he was sitting at his desk a second ago.

"Watson, don't make me fail you. Now speak."

What the hell. 

"Oh. Bonjour, mon nom est Wilbur, et j'aimerais rentrer chez soi" Wilbur laughed. No one else laughed with him. He got kicked out of the class and went outside. He didn’t know why he went outside but his feet carried him away before his brain thought too hard about it.

Next thing he knew he was walking the wet streets of Florida. It was like he had blacked out and found himself in a different place. He had no idea where he was, it was an area unfamiliar to him, and the dark clouds sifted through the sky slowly, pouring big heavy droplets of rain. Wilbur came across a playground, so he assumed he was near a park, and so the bored teen went to investigate.

Wilbur climbed up on the colorful monkey bars and sat on the railings. He was already wet and there was no one around him so he didn't mind being a little extra soaked right now.

The park was almost completely empty, being nobody or nothing in the area that caught his eye other than a calico-looking cat with brown and black patches. Wilbur quickly recognized the cat and hopped off the monkey bars, cringing as a gust of cold air blew on his ass. He walked up to the cat and stuck his arm out.

“Hey bebe,” Patches nudged at his hand, meowing at him. Wilbur pet her, giving her the attention he thought she wanted. Patches meowed at him again, it being more of a shout than a soft mew.

“What is it girl, how’d you even get out here?”

Mreooooooooooooow. Patches began to sprint away towards a lining of trees, and Wilbur slowly followed. He noticed that Patches kept turning around every thirty or so feet and meowed at him. Wilbur got the message that his attention was needed wherever Patches was leading him. He was brought to a tree. Patches stopped and meowed at him again, before clawing at the tree.

Wilbur looked up.

…

A breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened to a size larger than ever before in his life. “No no no, this can’t be real.” Wilbur muttered to himself, stepping closer to the tree. He saw the limp body of someone he knew. He pulled the limp figure up and repelled the gravity pulling the teen in green down, heavier dur to being soaked in the rain. He checked the pulse.

He called an ambulance.

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Wilbur was startled awake with a yelp, it felt so fucking real. He knew it was a dream but it felt so real. Wilbur yanked his phone out of the charger and sent a message to Dream.