How I adopted my best friends | benchtrio

5. Awful memories 🧨

Tommy's POV🧨

Tw: swearing, mentions of death, fire and violence

Another shit day, like usual.
Two more anger outbursts, no food left in my carrier bag, another day without Wil. When will this end?

I've been stuck like this for over half a year. I wish Wilbur was here, it would be so much easier. I only managed fifteen days in the house without him. After the fire, I had to leave.

It was an accident. It was only a piece of toast for Niki. She'd come over for the day a couple weeks after Wil died, and I tried to make us a snack. But the toaster was a bit broken, so the toast never popped up.

"Tom, what's that smell?" Niki enquired, smelling the air.
"I don't fucking know," I mumbled, shuffling into the kitchen.
The toaster was on fire. I freezed on the spot as the flames caught on the curtain and engulfed the kitchen.

"Niki, we have to get out of here!" I yelled, running back into the living room.
"Tommy, you idiot! Why didn't you check on it sooner!" Niki shouted back, looking upset.
That really triggered me. The anger took over and I ended up hurting her.

I punched her over and over. The fire escaped the kitchen and leaped into the room we were in. It got hotter and smokier. I was blinded with rage. I was beating my best friend to death while my house was on fire.

Then, as soon as it had started, it stopped. I took a step back and looked at what I'd done. I felt tears spring to my eyes as I saw her lying on the floor, unconscious. Her glasses broken. Her nose broken. My heart broken.

Then I looked around me. The whole room was orange. My whole life was ruined. The smoke filled the air like poison. Coughing, I ran out the house as fast as I could. I pulled my phone out my pocket to call the fire station and remembered.

NIKI WAS STILL IN THERE

I ran back into the house, sleeve over my face, choking on the vile smoke. Niki was still on the floor, she looked like she was dead.
Using all my might, I tried to lift her off the ground, but the smoke was making my lungs too weak. Instead, I grabbed her wrists and dragged her outside. It broke my heart again as her head bumped on the doorframe.

Once I had got her out of the house, I finally called 999.
It took 20 minutes for the firetrucks to get to the house. By the time they had put the fire out, the whole house was ruined. I never went back.

And now here I am, probably traumatized or some shit. My life has turned upside down and I fucking hate it. People are like "be grateful for what you have!" what do I have? That's right. Nothing. No house. No brother. No best friend. Nothing to eat. Nothing to do. Nothing to live for.

I miss Wilbur.

It's been nearly a year without him. I remember when it was just the two of us, the way it had always been. We were best friends. And I was the only one who helped him with his secret.

He wasn't always Wilbur. It hurt a lot to see him go to school and have people staring at him, the other students disrespecting him. The teachers would take the register and shout "Wilma Soot!" and my brother would sit there shaking, having to practically whisper "here."

I was the only one who understood. I was the only one he could talk to. At school Wil was 'one of the boys,' but the other guys didn't see that he actually was a boy.

And now it's my fault he's dead.

Sorry not sorry for the angst :)
Word count: 649