A Totally Fantastic Guide To Vigilantism {Sanscest Story}

Rule #9

Tw; Mentions of death, bit of trauma-dumping (again)

Rule #9: "Your grief will never go away, but you can allow other emotions to ease your pain. "

Error laid silently on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his head filled with thoughts of nothing. He'd been like this for almost an hour now. No matter how much he tried to, he could not muster up the energy to move. He had been overtaken by a meaningless exhaustion.

The only noise was the almost inaudible sound of the thumps of his soul against his chest. They were slow and calm, an almost jarring opposite to the emotions that had gripped him since he had woken.

He couldn't shake his looming sense of fear. He felt as if something horrible was going to happen, but he knew nothing was. The stillness was overwhelming, and his panic grew every silent moment that passed.

Today was calm, but he knew that calmness was deceiving.

Error turned to his side, so he could face the bleak wall rather than the plain ceiling. A sigh escaped from him, and his pain-filled eyes traced every minuscule detail of the wall. This was a much better pass time than thinking of anything else, no matter how boring it got. The wall at least provided him a sense of comfort, unlike his now growing thoughts. Though, even the wall would eventually become a source of turmoil.

The monotone blue of his paint, a color he had specifically chosen because it spared him numerous headaches, began to dull until it almost looked gray. The sight caused a sense of nausea to rise in his stomach. He turned away, and averted his eyes to his carpeted floor.

He hated the color gray.

Error kept his eyes on the floor, as he struggled to rid himself of his troubled thoughts. He wanted to go back to thinking of nothing, to finally have a singular moment of peace. It seemed that everywhere he turned he was simply reminded of all these terrible things. He wanted his brain to shut off, so he wouldn't have to envision those horrid scenes any longer.

His mind was torturing him. And for what? Had he not already exhausted himself by thinking of such awful experiences every single day of his life? Why now must he continue such painful endeavors? Of course, he knew the answer. He'd known since he saw that day on his calendar. No matter how much he attempted to prepare himself, it always took him by excruciating surprise.

Ten years. Today officially marked ten years since the accident that killed his parents. Ten years, and he still can't manage to forget anything that had happened. The images, the sounds, the pain—they were all still so vividly entrapped in his mind. It was his own personal nightmare that he would never wake from.

Sometimes he wished he didn't care so much. Maybe if he didn't care, it wouldn't be so painful. Maybe if he didn't care, he could actually continue on with his life like a normal person and not constantly wallow in his misery.

He wanted to move on. But how could he?

Every single time he tried to forget that day, he always felt as if he were betraying someone. Not only would he betray his parents by forgetting the sacrifice they made to make sure he and Fresh were safe, but he'd also betray the hero that helped him. By forgetting, he'd undermine what that hero did for him, and he couldn't do that. Not when they were the only one who ever showed him enough compassion that he began to rethink his feelings about the heroes.

Error finally mustered enough strength to sit up. His frustrations were becoming overwhelming, and even though he preferred that over his previous dread, he wished it all would just...go away. He wanted nothing more than to be an emotionless blob—it'd spare him the mental trouble.