This is not a fairytale-Sandersides

Chapter 7

Friendly reminder: This is not your personal vent blog. There's a person behind these stories that reads all your comments who such things can affect negatively. Hope you all are doing well and have a good day. Love, Roman

I hadn't gone out of the mind palace for a month now.

I had started building it up slowly. First not getting out of my room for a day, two days, a week.

I think the others had started slowly forgetting I too was a part of Thomas'. 

Can't blame them.

The knocking at my door had started to become a vague background noise. A thing like cars driving by besides your bedroom window. You'd forget the noise eventually. Your heart pounding louder with each knock and your thoughts getting darker, more and more bits of me disappeared as I noticed I had become too large for my bed, my feet poking out from underneath the covers.

I hadn't eaten in days.

Now don't get me wrong. Us sides do not necessarily have to eat. If we wanted we could go our whole life without having a single bite.
But whenever one or more of us do not eat for long periods of time Thomas' eating habits start to get... complicated.

He will suddenly have an enormous need of food and will consume everything in his fridge or will not feel hungry at all. This is why we had made a deal to eat at least once a day so that he would not start acting this way as none of us seemed to be able to stop this behaviour in any way.

This time seemed to be different though. 
As he went on midnight snacks and got sadder every passing day I was just sat in my room, watching as the light got darker with his decreasing mood and the room got colder without me having the energy to get myself a warmer blanket, get out of bed or even move to lay myself in a less uncomfortable position.

It was definitely getting bad again.

The attacks had died out, but in their place had settled an emptiness I didn't know how to fill.

The day my room went completely black the knocking became banging, and later on, I heard someone throwing their whole bodyweight against the thin wooden door.

I heard the lock snap, the door flying open, a person yelling my name. But no light had illuminated the all surrounding darkness. It almost seemed as if Thomas had completely shut down as if his mind was nonexisting.

I tried to move my body but found I had no strength to even lift my closed eyelids to see who it was that was picking me up, who's arms felt so safe as they carried me out of the room.

***

My arms were shaking and I felt as if I was about to collapse as I carried Virgil out of his freezing cold room, him laying in my arms like a newborn. His face sickly pale and his eyeshadow almost covering both of his cheeks. His eyelids closed, a look of distress carved into his face, his eyebrows forming a frown.

I shifted my arm so I could hold onto his hand.

I almost hissed as the stinging cold fingers brushed my warm once but after a while I took his hand and held it tightly, hoping to project some of the warmth into his freezing body.

"Logan? Patton? is that you?" I called out as a dark figure walked towards me, his glasses reflecting the dim light of the candle he was holding, the other bowed behind a laptop.

"Oh my goodness, what happened to anxy?!" Patton yelled out before leading me towards the couch where I laid him down carefully. Not letting go of his hand I let Patton lay about six blankets over him and walk away quickly to get whatever he thought was helpful.

The darker trait seemed to be floating on the edge of consciousness as I rubbed small circles into his hand with my thumb. His hand twitched and I stopped immediately, afraid I had hurt him in any kind of way I hadn't already done before.

I know the things I had done or said can't be tolerated, the mean comments and stares and endless fights that had made this situation even an option could not be undone or made right.

This feeling I was experiencing at that very moment I had never for once even considered an option for me being able to feel.

Strangely enough, I had no trouble identifying it.

That was the first of many times I had felt guilt.