If Only There Was A Way

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Warnings: Shouting, swearing, and a panic attack. Please inform me if there are any more.

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Words are weird. By pronouncing simple sounds using your mouth, others can know what you did today, what you’re going to do and what you’re feeling. They can range from making someone feel good and happy, to the exact opposite in only a matter of seconds. Sometimes, you don’t even need words to communicate. Weather it’s a simple hand gesture, a hug, or a nod, people seem to understand what you’re saying.

Although, words and gestures aren’t always genuine. They can be fake, hiding what a person truly feels. It’s not that hard to pull off, one just has to be careful not to accidentally slip up thier secret. Words can also be fake other ways. Some people say things without meaning it. How people usually shout things like, “I hate you!” during an argument. It's a false claim, they don’t actually mean it.

He didn’t actually mean it. Neither of them did, it was all a mistake controlled by anger and other mixed feelings. They were confused, didn’t know what they were doing, but went along with it anyway.

“You can’t just show up here and start dissing every idea we come up with, Virgil!” Roman shouts, anger expressed on his face.

They were making a video in peace, that is, until the emo nightmare showed up. Putting down all their fanciful, happy and seemingly unrealistic or dangerous ideas, it really pissed Roman off. He tries so damn hard to come up with these ideas, just for that nuance to shoot then down without so much as a second thought.

“It’s my job, it’s what I do,” The anxious side defends, beginning to feel like his name - anxious.

“No, your job is to keep Thomas from harm, to keep him safe!" Princey shouts, fully gathering the attention of Thomas and the other two sides, "Your job is to make sure Thomas doesn’t do anything stupid that can get him hurt! What you’re doing is not your damn job! Holding Thomas back from everything, keeping him from having fun and following his dreams, that is not your job!” The creative side gives in to his anger, letting any words that cross his mind escape from his mouth.

Virgil stands still, shocked but..not. As if he was expecting this, just not so soon.. He notices the clenched fists of the other, shrinking into himself a little. “I..” He tries, searching for words.

“You what? You’re sorry? How many times are you going to say that? We get it, you’re pitiful, but you don’t have to bring us all down with you!” Roman, clearly taken over by emotions doesn’t really process the words that escape his lips.

The sound of other’s voices pierce through the room, but neither of them acknowledge it.

“You’re an asshole! It’s not like I asked to be the bad guy! Why are you always the damn hero? What do you even do except get Thomas’ hopes up for something that’ll never actually happen!” The anxious side’s words seem to slip out on their own, not being processed by the mind of the owner. He immediately regrets those hurtful words, wishing he could take them back, but it’s sadly too late. He covers his mouth as Roman continues with the argument.

“Well it’s better to hope than to not do anything at all! You always stop him from doing what he wishes, from having a social life! You’re just a burden, a disorder!” Roman screams, mirroring the other with his hand over his mouth, hearing just what was coming out of it, regretting it immediately.

Disorder


The anxious one flinches at the word, backing up, wishing to escape and forget this ever happened. The word lingers in his head. The voices of the others stopped, everything was silent. Menacingly quiet. Nobody moved, spoke or even breathed, and before anyone could, Virgil sunk down, back to his cold and dark room.

He melts down onto the floor as an overloading feeling of panic finally kicks in.

The boy sits, curled in a ball and holding his hands to his ears as if it could make the thoughts stop entering his mind. The heavy urge to scream, to make a sound, pushes forward, but he ignores it. If he makes sound there’s a possibility the others will hear, if they’re even in the mindscape, that is.

He wishes so badly that he could forget about all of this. He simply wants to move on, or..maybe do it over again, make it right. There’s no way to make the creative one change his mind, Virgil already knows he meant every word, but he still feels the need to apologize to him. Roman was right. No need to bring them down with him. If only there was a way to take back what he said…

If only there was a way to redo this day, to not have that harsh argument..

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