✔️Jack Skellington x Reader - Afraid

Not Your Fault

(I don't own the picture.)

~Flashback:

"Mom, please listen to me! I'm telling the truth!" You whispered.

"Enough, (Y/N)!" Your mother snapped. "I don't want to hear your stories anymore! Just admit it was you!"

"But it wasn't me! It was the killer Christmas toys!" Your voice was so quiet and shaky, it was so unlike you.

"Listen to your mother, (Y/N)! Just confess right now!" Your father added.

By now, tears were spilling out of your eyes. "Why won't you just believe me? It was on the news everywhere!"

"(Y/N), there is a god forsaken knife on the floor that is covered with blood!" Your mother continued to yell at you.

"It's from the paint of the toys and snake!" You argued quietly, beginning to break out in a series of nervous tics from your paralyzingly fear brought less than a day ago.

"That's it, young lady. We know you killed your sibling yet you continue to deny. We're getting rid of you, you murderer!" Your mother said as your father slapped you hard on the cheek.

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT!!!" Your shrill scream erupted and echoed throughout the house. Yet there wasn't a single soul there to listen; not a single soul to believe you.

~Flashback end

That's what happened. That's how it all began. That's when your life turned inside out. Nobody believed you. They called you crazy and insane. After that argument, you had stormed upstairs, packed a suitcase with clothes and some food, and left without another word into the winter night. After all, what kind of crazy person would stay there after that?

You wandered, homeless and alone, until you wound up in the Foster System. They thought you were crazy and insane as well, but the only reason they helped you was because of one woman who simply thought you had some kind of strange disease.

However, nobody accepted you, not even aunts or uncles or grandparents, except for one man. He was worse than anyone else. He abused you and treated you like you were nothing more than dirt. You swear, he only wanted you as an outlet for his anger (which was brought by drugs, no less) and to do work around the house. He barely even gave you food and water let alone a bed.

As for your fear that would never let you be, it got progressively worse over the years. You jumped at the smallest of things, from quick creaks in your new 'home' to someone accidentally dropping a pencil in class.

Oh....I forgot about school. The kids.... They picked on you and bullied you but the teacher's never did anything. They actually called you names behind your back too.

Every night you would do nothing but cry. You would cry your heart out. You were completely alone. Nobody cared about you, nobody believed you. You would never be the same again, and it was all because of that stupid imposter.

Though he was claimed to be shot down, you couldn't help but fuel the flames to your burning hatred towards him. He took your sibling, your dear sibling. He took away your friends, your family, and your happiness. This was all his fault, all of it. Not yours! His! Why couldn't people just see that?

Even though people can't, it's not like you asked for this to happen! You never wanted to be seen as nothing more than a freak of insanity! All you wanted on that one Christmas Eve was a happy day with snow and presents and the warmth of love and family. But no, never.

And here you sit, day after day. Waiting. Wishing. Hoping that one day, one person will come along, just one, that will believe you. That won't criticize you. That, when you begin to cry when you have no words to say, or when you sit alone because there isn't anyone to talk to, will calmly say....

"It's not your fault."