lil inanimate insanity stories :3

writing till your hands bleed, flowers

This is more of a vent chapter erm what the sigma!!!

WARNING
Self harm(?)
Strong language

I hc lightbulb as a writer(I'm totally not self projecting) so ya!!!!
_______

LIGHTBULB POV:

I was stuck in my room for hours at a time, each day...always at my desk writing, my hands and arms were always sore

A bunch of failed projects were on the ground, to keep myself awake I did exercise or something to take a break..i didn't eat a lot either

Before I came to the show my father always wanted me to be perfect in everything, no matter what...i didn't like math or science, I did like english and reading, and I would write out my emotions

I hated drawing too, not as much as before but it's one of my dislikes, sure it's cool just not for me...but I also draw as well...but it never looks good so I write the picture

I guess it was weird being friends with paintbrush...an artist, and they always had the attention...with how great they painted and drew

And test tube, I hated science but she was a scientist...and always got the attention to...same with fan and typing out his blog or typing to help test tube

Just among my three friends they always got attention for how great they were at something...I was stuck at the bottom working my ass off writing with all my pencils, pens, markers, highlighters, anything that I could write with...i was trying as much as them

But showing anyone, they would just brush it off..but when apple shows that stupid novel everyone crowds around her?! Marshmallow helps her with half of it and also gets the same amount of attention!

At this point I think my hands could just fall off, my hands and arms all always sore and hurt sometimes...i still dont stop writing

I've accidentally cut myself multiple times, hit myself and continue writing like nothing, blood is on some of the papers

....

I hated doing this to myself, all for nothing! When I was a child not even my teachers payed attention, others thought I was weird

I noticed my hands shaking again, now it's time for a break, i got up and layed down on my bed, I did some push ups but they hurt my hands and arms so I went back to laying down

After a few minutes I went back to writing, I heard the door open to OJ, bringing in some food
"I'm not hungry, OJ"

"Lightbulb you haven't eaten in two days...your stressing yourself out by writing take a break"

OJ'S POV:

I only gently pushed her chair to try and make her face me, I could see some cuts on her hands and when she was thinking before writing I saw her hands shake

"Lightbulb I think you should stop writing for right now"

"No.."

She continued writing, I sighed and gently picked up her hands, removing the highlighter and pencil from her hands, I could see her very improved handwriting

Yep...her hand were definitely shaking and harmed, she looked pale
"Why are you doing this?"

"I...dont know...nobody appreciates it anyway people throw it aside no matter how much I work...painty, test tube and fan always get their positive image and I'm stuck here when nobody cares!"

Then I could see tears going down her face, she continued talking
"All I want to do is live my dream of being a writer! But nobody listens a-a-and I'm always replaced for my friends because of their work, I've tried my hardest for so long, yet nobody sees me!"

She moved her hands from mine and covered her face, crying into them

I know I wasn't innocent...i knew I put out an art class because of paintbrushs talent and appreciated testube and fans ability to work together, creating bot and being equally great and smart people, I never focused on lightbulb for a bit

"I'm sorry lightbulb, but you don't need to stress yourself about this, you haven't eaten I can tell you haven't slept and your probably hurting yourself, just rest for a bit and relax"

"Just get out! You don't understand I have to keep doing this get out please just go!"

I listened even though I didn't want to and left the room, closing the door and walking down stairs, seeing test tube, paintbrush and fan all hang out

After a bit I saw lightbulb finally come down stairs with bandaged arms and hands, her hands still shaking a bit, she went to the kitchen

LIGHTBULBS POV:

I wanted water, I think I was dehydrated after practically functioning off of Arizona ice tea and Pepsi

I grabbed a water bottle, it felt nice but then I took it back to my room, I saw painty, test tube, fan, and OJ looking at me...
Could have OJ told them...shit they are going to come bursting into the room

I went into my room and locked the door, to go back to writing adoor

I heard knocking on my door, multiple of them...they were getting louder and I heard the doorknob from someone on the other side trying to get in

....then I heard keys open the door, shit I forgot OJ had keys to all our rooms...

I didn't hear the end of it from those four, all coming to me to say "oh why didn't you tell us!" "We could have helped you! " I ignored them and continued writing, but I did get a notification on my phone...it was from balloon, I knew he was a poet but also not bothered by others

The message read to come down stairs it's nothing bad I promise

I listened and moved away from all of them shouting at me, they looked confused as they saw me walk away randomly

I met balloon again near the door to exit, the shorter one took me outside

___

It was actually so nice....he talked to me about how he saw one of my scrapped ideas on paper and he really liked it, I felt appreciated someone liked what I did...

He talked all about my writing, making flower crowns in the process, for me and him and I felt like crying happily someone liked my ideas for once, I ended up crying some moments after we got up

"Is something wrong? I uhh"

"No balloon I just really had no one that liked my writing, you'd be the first one to enjoy it...and..and I appreciate that a lot, my work was always thrown away...i thank you...for just...actually noticing it, I...find your poems great to"

I wiped my tears, he hugged me, saying all these nice things I didn't know how to respond, but he listened..

We went back inside, he walked around the hotel and I went to the roof, the flower crown on my head I looked over at the outside

For once, I might have been actually opened up...it felt nice to breathe for once, knowing there's someone who can still appreciate something getting old...