Everything i could've ever asked for and more. (Discontinued.)

..1..

Tw: mentions of throwing up, mentions of trauma, depression.

In stories everyone writes a happy ending (not me though lmao) yet not for wilbur.

Not for the lonely wilbur who was in his room, on the floor, heart in his throat as he suppressed a sob, two or maybe even three, which also followed by four, of course.

But when you're in a house, hell wilbur couldn't even call it his home, it was just a building with some walls.. Walls full of cruel memories.

Memories that haunted his head, his dreams even when he was awake.. It seemed like he couldn't stop.. And fucking hell, it was so loud. As loud as his heart beat would get when he would run, run deep in the woods, his throat hurt, his lungs burned yet he never stopped, did he?

Did he ever get far, far away? You may ask.. And the answer is always the same no wilbur did not get far, far away. And you know why? Because of the fucking guilt building into his stomach and rotting it.

Sure maybe he had to spend his nights, hell even days crying into his room, hands shaking, head throbbing in pain as wilbur begged in silence for some love, for some comfort, he begged to be seen.

Wilbur layed on the floor of his room. His not too small but not too big room that he always hid in, no one even heard him when he was around.. That's how he liked it. His bed was in the corner but he never used it, it was always the same clean, tidy bed that wilbur, the 'ungrateful child', never used because of the night terrors, because of the trauma. And next to the bed was the nightstand, it was clean, as usual.

Wilbur was layed on the floor, looking at the ceiling, the lights turned off as he liked them, laying in the dark, unable to sleep. No, to wilbur it didn't matter if it was 03:00 am or 04:00 am, not even 04:30.

The kid that never got love just layed there, in silence, grounding himself because he ate today. He wasn't supposed to, he wasnt allowed to, he shouldn't have. But that's okay.. He can always throw it up.

Wilbur's eyes were tearing up because 'jesus fuck, who am i supposed to be?! What am i good for if not for being there for people?!' and he covered his face with his hands "im such a mess." wilbur mumbled, his voice breaking.

And maybe wilbur deserved it. But if he didn't then.. Why did it happen?

The same questions bothered his busy mind..

Who am i..? Why am i not loved?... Am i not.. Supposed to be here?

And the boy got up with a huge irritation. He grabbed his shitty ass backpack, and packed his shit.

"if im not welcome here then im leaving." wilbur mumbled to himself, putting his jacket on.

And even though the boy never felt welcomed there.. He just noticed that. He just noticed how lonely it got in this shitty home.

"I'm going home.."

"wherever that is."

517 words :3

OOOOH HERE WE GOOOOOOOOO (definitely didnt forget about this account... Whoops?)