How I adopted my best friends | benchtrio

4. Escaping 🐝

Tubbo POV🐝

Tw: swearing

I finally did it.
I escaped the clutches of my father and the horrible environment of my house.
I don't know how it happened.

I mean, I know how it happened. But I don't know what gave me the sudden courage, or the ability to push my dyslexia aside and get the words out properly to the person on the phone.

I told them what was going on. I told them that my father was beating me every day. I told them my mother had taken her own life, probably because of me.

The very next day a car pulled up outside my house. A loud knock on the door came, and my heart leaped into my throat.

"I'll get it!" I yelled, turning my face away as I ran through the house, just in case dad saw the plasters I'd applied to my wounds.

By some miracle, I managed to get to the door before dad did. I carefully inched it open, taking care not to creak it too loudly. On the other side stood a tall man with blondish hair.

"Are you the guy from childline?" I whispered, not wanting my dad to hear. I made sure to keep my head down.
"That's right. You can call me Phil. Are you -" He pulled out a piece of paper which I saw had my full name on it; I'd had to give it to them over the phone.

"Toby Tubbo Tobias Teburculosis Underscore Live Smith?" Phil read out, with an almost concerned look on his face. "Dang that's a long name," he muttered.

"That's me. Can we go quickly, please? I don't want my dad to hear," I said, keeping me face covered and grabbing my backpack from the hallway.

"Not quite. As much as I'm sure you don't want me to, I do legally have to tell your dad where you are going. We also need to give a quick overview of your home situation, to place you on the priority list," Phil said.

"No please, don't tell him, he'll never let me go," I pleaded, almost in tears. Phil didn't see it, though.

"I'm sorry mate, but it's what I have to do," he answered, as he walked into the house, treading slowly on the sticky floor. I held my breath and clenched my fists.

"Don't!" I whisper-screamed, but there was nothing I could do at this point. Deep down I knew it was probably for the better, but that didn't help me feel any happier. Not that I was happy anyway.

𓆏time skip cause I don't know how this part works𓆏

"You sure you're alright, mate?" Phil said as we drove in the motorway. I was sitting in the back of the car, half petrified, half relieved. I wasn't letting my back touch the seat and I had one hand on the door handle.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I guessed. I guess, I mean, I guess I'm okay. Sorry, I have dyslexic. Fuck. I meant I have dyslexia," I mumbled, feeling increasingly more stressed.

"That's alright mate. You don't have to talk if you don't want. But we're gonna get you to a safe place, okay?" Phil said, looking in the rearview mirror.

I just nodded, opting for silence. I don't really want to think about what's going to happen next. Where will they even take me? Will I be adopted? Will I be put in a foster home? Will I be dumped out on the streets? I decide to ignore it all. But one day, I'll focus on the future.

Sorry the chapter's quite short, I had to get it done quickly, and once again sorry it took so long
Word count: 620