**Hey!! I'd like to start off this chapter by saying... Sorry this took so long :skull:. My grandma's in the hospital and it gave me writer's block. But now I'm out of ~Wyoming~ and should probably be more active! For context, this chapter will be about Ein running away after the popo popped up and ruined everything... and then shenanigans ensue :wink:!
TWs for the chapter include:
-HEAVY use of happy pills/drvgs (only in the first section though)
-mentions of self harm (scratch that, he harms himself multiple times.)
-uhm... really bad personal hygiene
-mild g0re/blood
-mentions of panic attacks
So without further ado, I present to you.. this really horrible chapter I wrote in my notes app on the plane ride back!**
He was going to die here.
That was the only thought he seemed to have anymore, the thought of endless doom, that always seemed just around the corner- watching, waiting for him to finally reach the peak of his misery. Waiting for him to finally be at the point where he couldn't even feel the pain any longer.
He was running.
It seemed like he was always running now, after... It.
Misfortune followed him wherever he went, destroying everything in its path until he was the only thing left standing.
Again and again and again, he ran- because he learned, after the 4th house, that whenever he stayed for too long, things went wrong. So now, it seemed, he was back on the road- or, more accurately- path. He was in the forest.
A forest which he did not know the name of. Who was he? What was his name? He wasn't sure anymore. Not after... everything he'd done.
All the places he'd been, all the visits to the station.
All the hospitals.
But he wasn't in civilization anymore. No, he had surrendered himself to the great outdoors, hoping to let mother nature swallow him whole.
Like that would work, nothing ever went in his favor anymore.
How he got to these specific woods was a long story, but it could be summed up by saying he hauled himself up there after running from the police with a bag of multiple kinds of prescription pills in his hand. He was unsure when he picked up the habit, whether you take 'habit' as robbing pharmacies or what was being stolen.
All he currently had in his possession was a knife, a plastic bag, multiple empty orange bottles, and the clothes on his back. Haha. He'd always wanted to use that metaphor.. he thought. Was pretty sure.
He was camped between the roots of an overgrown- what was it again?- ah fuck it, he couldn't remember right now. Whenever this happened, he'd learned it was easier to simply give up. Anyways, he was next to a river, but was unsure how long he'd been there. Every day sort of phased together when you were high and suicidal.
He let out a strangled breath at the thought- it was too depressing. Seriously, he was supposed to have blacked out by now. Why was he still staring at his scarred, bloody wrists, when he had just consumed more than anyone reasonable would be able to even SURVIVE?
Then, the corners of his vision went blurry.
'Finally. Geez.. Maybe I'll die this time. ...Right.' Was his last coherent thought before he was swallowed by the overwhelming, welcome emptiness.
---
*TW: HALLUCINATIONS AND SELF HARM, THOUGH NOT EXPLICIT, ARE INVOLVED IN THE FOLLOWING SCENE. PLEASE SKIP OVER THE BOLDED WORDS IF THIS MAY TRIGGER OR DISTURB YOU.*
He giggled, a disturbing sound to interrupt the peaceful space. It seemed so... hollow. But to the boy who had let out the sound, everything was so light and happy. There were rainbows dancing around, and the trees seemed to sing his name. It was fun, to him. Around him lay pers- paint bottles, strangely orange and laying scattered around him. Kni- Markers- v- were also littered around the space, and he picked one up with the wonder of a child exploring an amusement park, and started to draw. They didn't work on the ground, or the leaves he found, so the next best thing was.. his skin. He wasn't really sure what happened next, only that he was starting to feel a bit, well, weak? He wondered how that happened as his eyes fluttered shut. Oh well, he didn't want to think about it. Thinking was difficult. The last thing he heard as he slipped into the pleasant haze of sleep was something that sounded like footsteps. But that was impossible. Why was it impossible? He couldn't remember, which was a bit odd.
...Oh. Someone had found him. That wasn't good.
---
He groaned as he opened his eyes, registering his surroundings. Which were decidedly not trees. Instead, he was met by white, cold walls. Beeping sounds. Distant voices. Strangling silence.
'Is this an after affect of the pills...?' That must be it. He was simply still dreaming, floating away.
So then why didn't it go away? Usually hallucinations only lasted... A little. A while? Eh. An amount of time before they left him alone, and he had to get more. He always felt the need to get more, but he wasn't quite sure why. It was weird, but it made him feel good, so...
(...Stop thinking about that, it doesn't matter that it's not good-)
- After a few.. minutes? Moments? Those both sounded wrong, oh well- of decidedly not falling out of the 'dream space', he had finally come to the conclusion that this was, unfortunately, not a drug-induced mini hallucination. Had the police found him? That seemed unlikely, he thought he had hidden himself pretty well... He needed to focus on something else. Alright, he could do that. Easy.
He looked down- did his best to look down, as he finally began to notice the tubes and wires connected to his arms and neck. (How had he not seen those? He used to be so aware. He supposed this is what he got, for...-) There was strange, crinkly, paper-like material beneath him, and as he shifted, he noticed that his clothes had been changed. He was wearing more of this... paper sh!t. And it was blue, soft, light blue, just the same as- as-
no.
He hated this, where did his clothes go? Where WAS he? He wanted to get out, needed to get out, right now, right now-
"Oh hey, you're awake." A voice, that was not his and he didn't even recognize, suddenly spoke from across the room.
He snapped his head over to the dark haired, blue eyed, unrecognized boy that had been sitting there for who knows how long, watching him sleep- who would do that!?- and...
Promptly fainted again before the other could speak another word.
**This chapter kind of sucked.. I don't really know how to write, well, drvgs... but no matter! As I said earlier, I'll try to get on a more regular updating schedule soon. Thanks for waiting so long for this... Bye!!
- Ezra / sxnny-dxys**
Word Count: 1,148
YOU ARE READING
"What's a little scar? It'll fade eventually."
Fanfiction(Traumatizing Silly blue boys for my first story :3) ezra trauma projects on ExP instead of getting help from an actual therapist!! Most of the little stories end in fluff. But. Uhm. yk. Gay and also, also also, VERY PROMINENT TRAUMA INDUCING EVENTS...
