The Anti-Social Social Club [Stardew Valley Sebastian x Female Player (OFC)]

Chapter Forty-One

I'd fallen into the deepest, darkest place I'd ever been before and I felt like I would never be able to see the light and the happiness of this world ever again. I thought about my fight with Sebastian for days, weeks, after. Winter had finally rolled in, and I had nothing else to do but keep replaying the look on his face in my mind as he laughed at me, saying that him loving me was all a joke. The way he just turned his emotions off completely, like they never even existed, scared the absolute shit out of me. I'd never seen anyone do that before and it made me wonder just how good he was at shutting people out, at making people believe what he wanted them to believe.

What I hated most about all of this was how badly I already wanted to forgive him. I was attached to him. How could I not be? We'd seen each other almost every day. He was the one I talked to about my day; the one I complained to about things that were going wrong or bothering me. He always did his best to try and lift me up, making me feel like someone actually cared for once.

As I sat on my couch each day, staring blankly at the falling snow outside my window, I thought back on all the things my father had said to me, about Stardew Valley; about my mother; about my grandpa; and even about me.

"That place is vile, Stella. You're never going back there." He would say to me whenever I asked him about it. "Nothing but horrible things happen there. I'm not letting you go back."

I never understood his hatred for Stardew Valley. The only memories I still had were happy ones, but slowly they started to change into ones I didn't recognize as my father filled my malleable mind with lies about the type of place Stardew Valley was.

"Your grandfather almost let you get killed in that awful abandoned building with that troublemaking girl he let you be friends with." My father said, and while I hadn't quite remembered it that way, he slowly infiltrated my memories and twisted them into memories of things that had never happened.

Eventually, I'd forgotten all about Stardew Valley and had never asked him again. But as his drinking habit got worse, the worse he treated me. My respect for myself and my self esteem had never been lower than when I was living under his roof. And I'd never forget the worst thing he ever said to me.

"Is everything okay, dad?" I'd asked him once when he came home late at night from the bar. I'd woken up to the sound of him getting home, stumbling into the kitchen and gripping the countertops to keep himself from falling over. It was the first time I'd ever seen him this bad.

"You." He pointed at me, his eyes glazed over and his hair disheveled. "You stupid, worthless, freeloading kid."

I took a step back from him, trying to retreat further back into the shadow of the hallway and out of sight but he used the counter next to him to support him as he took a few steps forward towards me. He looked me dead in the eyes, and said, "I never even wanted a child. I never wanted you in the first place."

The days I spent in the farmhouse alone blended together, each one the same as the last. Luna did her best to comfort me, sensing something was wrong when I could barely keep my attention on her long enough. I'd found myself just staring off at nothing, attempting to dissociate myself from the reality I was in. I'd cried all the tears I had in me and I felt like I had no more left. I knew that I was sitting here, falling apart piece by piece, while Sebastian just continued on with his life as if nothing was wrong. Despite how often I thought of him, how often I picked up the phone and wanted to dial his number, I knew he wasn't thinking about me. I'd be wasting my time if I tried to reconcile with him.

After about a week of isolating myself and ignoring Emily's constant texts and phone calls, a knock was heard at the front door. I looked towards the sound, but didn't move. Whoever it was would figure out sooner or later that I wasn't going to let them in. They could leave, or freeze to death on my front porch. I didn't care either way.