Project: Titan (Skibidi Toilet Fan-fic)

Chapter 26: Isolated

—??? Years ago—

—Griefer's POV—

I remember that day too well, the mix of excitement and dread tangling in my stomach as I sat in the hospital waiting room. I'd been dragged here, practically forced, to meet my 'new little brother.' The phrase sounded strange even then, especially with everything going on.

Stella was quiet that day, like she was taking it all in. She had been there for years already, the flower that marked me as different, a freak to most people. After my father died, I felt more alone than ever and my new stepmother made sure of it. She never missed a chance to remind me of my 'condition,' or how the townspeople looked at us. With my father gone, no one had any reason to pretend to be kind.

I sat slouched in the corner as people passed by, glancing at the strange kid with the flower growing out of his head, not bothering to hide their disgust or curiosity. I was used to it, really, but today felt heavier, like the attention was sharper. They could all whisper and gawk, but I didn't care, I was used to being the town freak by now. I would snap at anyone who stray too close and give poisonous stares at those who stared too long. All would try to pretend I didn't exist.

And then my stepmother appeared with a bundle in her arms. She wore that same forced smile, the kind she always used when she looked at me, as if I were some mess she couldn't quite get rid of. Her eyes barely met mine, but she didn't need to as I knew what she thought of me.

She walked over, stiffly holding the bundle forward. "Griefer, this is your brother. Michael." Her tone was all brittle sweetness, like she expected me to reject him, to make a scene. But my attention had already moved to the small face wrapped tightly in that blanket.

Michael.

He was so small, barely more than a squirming bundle with a soft tuft of hair and closed eyes. As I leaned closer, his eyes slowly opened, and they were wide, blue, innocent. So different me. He didn't cry or recoil from me, didn't look at me the way everyone else did. He just blinked, that tiny gaze meeting mine with a calm I couldn't explain.

Stella murmured in the back of my mind, soft and thoughtful. He's... untainted. Untouched by their judgments.

Something about her words made my heart feel heavy. This was the first time I'd ever looked at someone and felt... responsible. I wanted to protect him, keep him away from all the harshness I had to endure. I didn't even know him, but he was my brother. My family.

"H3y4, M1ch43l," I whispered, barely a murmur. "Gu3ss w3'r3 stuck w1th 34ch 0th3r, huh?"

My stepmother watched, probably waiting for me to do something wrong. But I didn't give a shit. I kept my eyes on Michael, on that soft little face. He didn't know about the flower in my head or the whispers that followed me around. He didn't care. All he knew was that I was here, and that was enough for him.

In that moment, I promised myself something. Whatever else happened, whoever hated me or called me a freak, I'd protect him from it. I'd be the one constant he could rely on, no matter what.

...

My stepmother tried everything to keep Michael away from me. Every time I'd reach out to him, she'd pull him back with that tight-lipped smile and say, "Let's give him some space, Griefer." As if I were a stranger or some dangerous thing she needed to protect him from. But Michael had his own way of deciding.

It started with the crying. The first time, I heard him wailing from the other side of the house. I tried to ignore it at first, figuring it'd stop. But it kept going, relentless and growing louder with every second. When I finally slipped down the hallway, stepping quietly, I saw her trying every trick she knew to calm him down. Rocking him, singing to him, giving him toys. Nothing worked.