(Y/n) was born into the world only to be blamed by her father for her mother's death. In his sorrowful and often drunken state, she takes care of him as best as she can. She has to, he's her only point of income. Eventually she falls into a comforta...
I sit down on my bed and sigh. I pull off the soggy and rancid smelling gauze, disposing of it. I grab the fresh roll from the medicine cabinet, measuring it out and snipping it with the cloth specific scissors. I safety pin it behind me and stretch to test its secureness. It's fine. I place the materials quietly back into the place they were and snake back into my room. I then slip into bed, tired from today, before hearing a distinct thud. I rush downstairs. Dad has gotten himself drunk again. His sorrow from losing his wife makes me pity him, but I don't feel much compassion towards him. Sometimes he does unspeakable things to me, mistaking me for his wife, other times his fury is unleashed as he screams about how she would still be here if I hadn't been born. Both times make me feel disgusting. Still, he is the only source of income I have and therefore it would be stupid to get myself involved in the stupid government. I help him onto the couch and make sure to lock the door he came in through. I tuck him in with a blanket and switch off the light, slinking back to my room. My lights are shut off and I snuggle into bed.
Ah. Again, my brain is too excited to sleep. For some reason, I find myself rethinking the day over, thinking about how things could have gone if I had just done this. Or just done that. For some reason, my brain always comes back to one thing. That one thing? The fact that I'm worthless, horrible, and selfish. I should love my parents, I don't. I should have friends, I do, but they're toxic. I shouldn't have just walked away from something that horrible. I can't get that image out of my head. I can't get that image out of my head. It's seared into my brain, always there whenever I close my eyes. I can't sleep. For what seems like hours, I lay awake in my bed. Eventually I fell into a dreamless sleep.
I wake up to my alarm blaring as always. I get ready and exit the house, starting the walk towards school. I arrive and sit in my usual spot, opening a sketchbook under a tree in the courtyard. Most people stay near the front to greet their friends and some towards the cafeteria for breakfast. I had already eaten at home, so there was no need for me to even get close to that place. I take out a cloth half-face mask from my bag. The one I happen to grab is a sort of happy, blushing kitten mask. Cute. I wear it because I'm uncomfortable with my thin lips, odd nose, and uninteresting frown. Just my luck, a few people came over and decided to mock me. Their tones were deceptively masking the horrible things they were saying and my expression did not play along. They frowned and kicked up some dust. Bored, the walk away laughing. Someone I didn't recognise walks up to me, sitting down beside me and looking over my shoulder at my sketchbook. I glance over at him. He seems to be an average figure. His face is donned with a mask not unlike mine, and with big round, orange tinted spectacles that remind me of steampunk goggles. For some strange reason he seems familiar, like someone I used to know well. "Those are good," he says, referring to my rough sketches.
"Thank you?" I say, questioning his motives. I flip to an empty page, filling it with flowers and butterflies. A few quiet minutes pass and I start to feel awkward energy pulsing between us. He hasn't moved himself from the position over my shoulder and his breath is tickling my neck. This feels like it should be slightly unpleasant, but I felt quite at ease. Occasionally I heard a sudden shifting behind me, but other than that, he was relatively peaceful. The bell rang suddenly, snapping both of us out of a trance, before we quickly shot up and packed our bags. We shared a moment of eye contact before rushing off to our respective homerooms.
Another day passes and I don't see the unfamiliar boy in any of my classes. I walk back home slowly and eventually unlock the front door and step into the house. I close the front door, not bothering to lock it so that Dad can get in. I waltz up to my room and throw my bag onto my bed. I saw a flash of dark pass by my window briefly out of the corner of my eye. I swivel my head quickly towards the window, my stare set on the outside. Nothing. Must have been a bird or something. I'm just being paranoid. Right? The front door slams open, a pair of feet that was not my father's stomps in, not bothering to close the door behind them. It's Her. My father's lover. Honestly she's just trying to take his money. He was born into a CEO position at some big oil company, so he was well off for an addict. I didn't like her. She treated me like a slave. It was always "Little girl, get this. Little girl, get that." Once she even made me go buy booze for her. I still remember the hassle with the store clerk. But never mind that, I had to act like I wasn't home. I shoved my bag under my bed and ran into my bathroom, hiding in the closet in there. I heard her enter my room and screech, yelling about needing more money for her family. She sounded like she was searching through my room before she got frustrated and left, slamming the door on the way out. I crept out of my hiding place, surveying my room's damage. She hadn't done much, but it would take a few minutes to clean up. As I was cleaning up, I happened to remember my homework. I soon diligently started on it, finishing it just in time to start making dinner. I ate shortly after and retired to my room. I started making another lanyard, I sold them and some of my better drawings to other students to earn some pocket money.
The next day, I woke to my alarm again. I got ready, walked to school, and sat down underneath the tree. Out came my sketchbook and down sat the boy again. Again we repeated the same events from yesterday. I opened my sketchbook to some drawings I had done the night before and he complimented them. I thanked him then continued to sketch some more and the bell snapped us out of our trance. We packed up, shared a moment of eye contact, then bolted. Again, my classes went by similarly and I walked home slowly. I opened the door and left it unlocked for my father. I again went to my room, did my homework, then came back down to cook dinner. I made more lanyards and went to sleep again. This pattern continued for months until one day. He sat down next to me again, but instead of complimenting my drawings he asked timidly, "What's your name?" I sat for a moment, astonished that he had deviated from the comfortable routine we had established.
"Uh. Y/n. Yours?"
"Toby."
Hello! Hope you liked that chapter. This is a rewrite/adopt/collab with Insane_Delila. Go check it out. Below is the picture she sent me for the masks. It originates from this link: https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=2&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjyi9iV-KPkAhUH5awKHWmbCLcQFjABegQIBxAB&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2Fcat-mouth-mask%2Fs%3Fk%3Dcat%2Bmouth%2Bmask&usg=AOvVaw3M8iJ4_vcP4T1-BJFCOw1U
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