The next day, you woke up at 3am. Your vision blurry from crying in your sleep. 'Wait...I was crying..?' You reach to your face to feel warm, wet tears running down your face. Not to mention, your breathing rapidly. The beating of your heart pound faster as a victim was about to be killed right in front of the murderer.
You curl up into a ball, holding onto yourself real tight. Then, you hear voices. Voices telling you what your have done. What you could of have done. Why haven't you done it?! Wh͢y did̶n't ͡yo̢u̸ ̸d̀o ͞įt̸?͠! W̶H̡͟Y͢?̸̛!̛͝
Ẉ̸̫͔̗̮ͨ̾̑̈̐̈̂̄̍͋͋̔͘͠H̷̒ͫ̈̽͂̍̓̋̊͘͝҉̜̝̱͙̺̠͇̜̻̝Y͎̖̩͚̜̞͈̤̬̺̹̝͎̪̮̙͆̍ͮ͂̈͠ ̶̢̨͎͉͈̙͇̜̮͎̼̪͖͕̠̭͖͎͍̗ͨ͐͑͐ͭ̀̀͢W̧̳̦̲̼̦̐ͣͤ͐E̡̡̬̬̗̳̝͇͖̝̺̖̤̫̒͋̂͗̌̊ͨ͑͒̈́̋̃ͦ͒ͦ͟ͅͅͅR̛̛̪̰͚͔͑̐ͮ̃̒ͬͬ͋͘E̢̢̧̗̻͇̤̮̣̠̩͖̲͍̼͓͍̯̖̬ͦ̑͗͌͊ͧͦ͢͡ͅ ̴̛͍̼̤̺̭̺͈͇̽ͬͬ̎͒ͩ͝Y̌ͯͮ́͗҉̪̩͕̥̺̩͍̬͓͔̬ͅO͐̏͒͒̈́̇͒ͧͣ͗ͤ҉̶͖̞̯̖͚̠͕̦̫̺̘̰͔̙̥̝́͠͡ͅṶ̧̳͈͉ͨ̉ͦ́̉̾ͤ̎͛͜͞ ̧͋̏͋͑ͥ̉̄̾͘͞҉͙͇̘͙̳̖͕̠̝͝ͅS̷̭̳̜̣̝̙̫̗̘̠̝͇̱̬͔͉̭͔͖͌̊̄̎̾̇͊ͨ͗̂͋̈́̚̕Ō̢͐͐ͦ͗͌̽̋ͫ̕͠҉҉̳͙͙̠͈̳̞͕̼̲͔ͅ ̧̡̬͓͖͔̲͗͗̾ͥ̀͋̂̍́́͢B̡̧̤̞̠̜͓̳̯̣͕̩̜̱͔̪͇͍ͪ̈́̿ͬ̓͐͐͂̆̆͆ͤ̎͂̓̔̀̀̚͘L̪̟̰̟͎̰̰̠̻̳̰͕̮͈̘̻̬̺̗̿͂͋̈́̍̈͊͌ͩ̕͢͟Į̵̗͇̞̟̜͓͚̹̝̟̻̺̻̝̦̩͍̖̽̌͒͛̽̓̊ͮͪ̇̃ͥ̀̚ͅN̥͙̜͉̰̫͈͕̓̽̆ͤ͗͐͗͒̿ͨ̒̕͞D̶̗̭͓̠̱̥̗̙̳̞̖̤͖̘̫͈͛̽͛̅ͯ͛ͦͭ́͢͠͠ͅE̡̛̎̓̇́̓͊̂̐̀̎̊͛ͩ̌ͣ͛́͞҉͓̝̤̹̗̻̝̳̬̝̥̺Ḑ̡̙̦̖̱̟̱̺͈̠̫̠̱̟͓͖̺̼͆̓ͧͩͬͪ̔ͭ̚͝͝ ̗̟͚͈͖̟̣̼̼̻̳̥̪̤̭̅͐̈ͦͤͧ̈́̇͛ͫ͂̿̓̋̅̑̇̿͐̀͞T̨̢̰͎͉͙̝̟͎͖͖͕͖̋̊̊ͦͨ͂̈́͆͑ͮ̓̓͞O̠̦̠͖͕͇̘͉̭̹̺̟͕̰͖͑̉ͩͣ̈͟͝ͅ ̢̞͎̩̰͙̥̬̜̮̙͎̙͖̜̝̭̦́̈ͧ̉ͥͤ͗̏̃̃͘̕͟͝ͅD̅̉͒͌҉̢͔͉͚͔̘̱̫̦O̼̩̭̺̩̥̩͚̩̦͖̹͉̩̘ͧͮ̂͂̔̃̕͢͟ͅ ͙̦͍̝͙͕̫̗̣̘̈̇̇͌̍ͥ͊̇̄̈̅́͂̿ͬͪ͛ͧ͢͡S̷͚̩̮̝͉̲̟͇̪̮͗̐͌ͧ̅ͫ̇ͤ̽͟O̩̻̝̣͓̤͇͇̖̬̪̲̻̞̻̣̤̹ͧͬ́̒́́̌̄ͮ͐̈ͬ͊̉̃̓̚͠ͅM̷̧̢͕̱̥̯̭̺͈͔͕ͦ̀̓͑̅̊̒̐́̽̐͢E̡͈̩̖̠͎̙̩̤̝̪̟̼͚̺̱͚̩̞ͮ̓͂ͮ̍̍̋͒͘T̨̹̪̤̭̖̟͙͖̫͔͉͗̎͛͆͒̔ͫͧ͆͒̾̍̚͠H̊̄ͤ͏̨̲͇̲̤͙́͞I̳̺̺̤̼͎̣̠ͦ͋̌̊͗ͧ́ͬ̑̊̀̾͋ͪ̔ͬ̀͟͢N̛̠͉̩̝̲̦̻̖̪̙͍̯̮̘̻͎̣̜ͪ̎ͯ̎̿̋̒ͮ̏͛̽͌̋̚̚G̶̨̈́ͥ̉̔̌̾ͩ̒͑͑ͯͣͬ͏̥̰̗̟̖̤̯͚̲̩͔͎̫̮͎̥̙͞ ̴ͩ͗̈́ͥ̏̂͠҉̛͓̩̼̣͍̯͎̫͍ͅĻ͇̙̥͔̟̜̪̐̊̌̄ͩ̐͛̒͋ͭ͒͟͟Ȉ̷̧̧̨͓̥̹̬͎̮̯̙̠̲͈̰͇̰̳̤̪̈́͗͐ͥͦͫ́́̇̌͗̑̃ͅK̴̢̢͎̳̙͖̪̣̞̲̖̟̪͍͈̯̻͔̳̞̯͆̽̓͛ͬͤ͂ͤ̊̓͒͒ͩ̉͋̈̚̚Ẽ̵̷̩͖͉̘̗̺͖̞̬͇̼͈̺̺̥̬̰̣̼̐͑͌̏ͪ̂ͬ̑̀͡͞ ̰̠̱͓̺͓̰̭̪̙̦̪̙̑̈́ͬ̽̉ͫͣ̌̈́ͪ͐̀̀͡͠ͅT́ͩ̾ͬ̽̃͐ͯ̈́ͬ́҉̨̧̟̣̺͉̤̦̲͙̤̬̙͇ͅH̶̸̩̻̯̲̺̤̉ͦͬͤ͘͟A̶͙͚͈͚̠̗̟͈̳̪̭̪͔̔ͬͨ̋͋͐̀͢T̡̨̛̘̼͍̗̥̽̋̊ͤ̉ͣ̽̔͒͋̅ͪ̇ͫ̈́̎̚͝?̴̨̙͔̺͕͈̤̞͎̝̝̗̠͔̺̝̋ͦ̊̅ͯͬ̈́̆͋͘ͅ!͂̈́̎ͣ̂̄͆͂̑ͣ̌̈̿ͯͤ̒́̑҉̡͜҉҉̗̦͍͖
F̶̦̟̭͕͖̖̟̗͕̣̱̪̏ͧ̌͌͋ͤ͂͑̍ͪ̀̅͌̊́͆̚Ư̵̖̞͙̜̳̼̗̼̲̖̲̘̺̬̠̰͊̐ͫ̂͆͟͞͝C͉̳̭̩͓̪̪̾̏̃̄ͪ͋̒̉̀̈́ͦͩͩͥ̀͜ͅK̉ͨ̃ͮͮ̋ͬ̍̾͛̽̑͐͐ͧͦ̏̍̚͏̶̢͉̼̥̝̦̝͖͍̩̪̮̳͚̯̖̗̞͜Ȉ̵̠̳̦̰̹͚̖̻͚̝̣̟̮͔̬͉͗̔̊̈͟͡ͅͅN̛̑ͥ̊̾ͯ̒͐̓͒ͣ̒͒̽ͨ͏̻̺͎̱͙̬̹̼̮̤̪Ğ̢̻͙͓͉̹̳̥͉͖͈̰̰̣̝͇̱̱̣̤̽͆͗̔͆ͬ̿ͥ̈́͜͠ ͧͦ̐ͤͭ̃̓̇̚҉̸̢̛̘̙̖̯͔̜̱̹̹̟̬͇̞̖͈̩͖͕̀W͉̯͔̯̌̃͒ͤͣ͌̌̌ͣ͊͋͠͝H̷̱̹͚̻̩͂̐͌͑̀͟Y̴͎͚̮̱̜̰͖̫̲͇̫̰̎͑̿́͋̂ͩ̍̓̒͆͊ͦ́ͯ̾ͥ̅͐́͢ͅ?̈́͒͌̋ͥ̽̉ͩͯ̍̽̔ͪ͏̴̝̱̥̪̯̲̻̺͝͡!ͩͩ͐ͧͧͬ̃ͪͮͮ́҉҉̕҉̣̫̘͚̳̙̦̝̬̞̻̯͉͓̟ͅ
You place your hand over your head. Your head bouncing around with multiple torments. You drag your hand down to your face, almost leaving scars of despair. You hold onto your neck and squeeze tightly. 'Shut up...' They didn't. 'Shut up.' They continued. You growled. "SHUT UP!!"
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What are you trying to show me? (Camp Camp!! David x Reader)
FanfictionYou were fired from your last job for always being late, its not your fault for not getting enough sleep because your boss will make you stay up at night for work and for other things as well... It's not like you are passionate to work as a counselo...