Sanders Sides Oneshots/Short Stories

Alone (none)

1582 words

TW: Depression, swearing

Virgil was... confused, to say the least. He didn't really want to die, but didn't want to live in that moment either. Wow, that was pretty deep, he thought as he grabbed his phone and opened Tumblr. Looking at the memes was a good way to escape reality, even if it was only for a few hours. Then again, he saw the occasional 'perfect couple' post, and was reminded of what he couldn't have.

Roman had broken up with him about two months ago. He was nice about it, sure, but they had really loved each other; or at least that's what Virgil thought. Roman had come up to him one day, and out of the blue, told the anxious side that they'd be better as friends. Virgil felt his stomach flip as soon as his boyfr- ex came up to him with a serious look on his face.

The emo tried to put his thoughts aside, but when he came across his daily reminder of heartbreak, he slammed his phone down on the desk as his eyes welled up with tears, done with that for the day. He stormed to his bed and leaped onto it, wrinkling the crisp purple covers that he had actually had time to fix that morning before he came downstairs to work on his schoolwork (he wasn't allowed to do homeschooling in his room anymore because he'd been caught watching YouTube instead of doing work). He curled up on his bed numbly, the stress of everything from the past few months catching up with him, wanting to cry, needing to cry, needing to let it all out, but just laying there, his mind a buzz of thoughts. Sooner or later his stepmom would call him down for dinner, and then he would have to get up, but for now he could just lay there.

Virgil woke up late at night- or was it morning? He glanced at his clock, which read 2:44. It was dark out. Well, I'm not getting back to sleep. He slid out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs, careful to keep his feet on the edges so they didn't creak. He didn't really know what he was doing downstairs, he had just walked down out of habit, but he figured since he was down there he might as well get some food. He grabbed a packet of Goldfish crackers before heading back upstairs to watch YouTube for the rest of the night- er, morning, before going to the hell that is therapy. Sure, it was supposed to help or something, but his parents had only signed him up to help him deal with their divorce. They only kept him in it as a way to say they were doing something, he supposed. It's not like it helped. If anything, the excruciating silence in between dull questions made his anxiety even worse.

And then there was the fact that he practically had no friends. Roman and he hung out with the same people, and since Roman had known them longer, they all still talked but Virgil was excluded. He could start hanging out with Janus and Remus again, but Janus has started hanging out with Roman and all of them. He could still hang out with Remus, but Virgil figured that would be kind of weird; hanging out with his ex's brother.

It wasn't like he had gone outside a lot anyway since the breakup, so there wouldn't really be anything new if he did. Shit, Virgil realized, I wasn't paying attention to the video. He restarted it, but his mind drifted off again and eventually he just gave up and went to go get ready for the day; at 4:31 in the morning.

-little hasty time skip-

Virgil walked out of the therapy room feeling especially frustrated with his therapist's new game to try to get him to open up more. He was a fucking teenager! He didn't play those stupid games anymore! Trudging out of the room and trying to keep from stomping his feet on the way out, Virgil headed to his dad's car in the parking lot.

When he got home, Virgil had a sudden creative itch. He rushed upstairs and made a new google Doc on his old laptop and got typing.

He had already been working on a book at the time, a Superhero AU, and after about a month of being uninspired he finally had ideas.

That rare opportunity was stripped from him about five minutes later, though, when his stepmom came in to take his phone and laptop for the night.

"We've decided," she said, referring to herself and Dad, "that you've been staying up too late on your devices. You'll get better sleep if they're not there to tempt you."

Was she fucking serious?! Right when he was working on something! Right when he actually had an idea for once, when he was actually accomplishing something in his useless life!

"Are you kidding? I just started working!" He raised his voice, not caring about her 'respect your elders' rule. He could do what he wanted.

"Excuse me? What did you just say to me? Give me your devices right now!" She yelled at him. Good, he thought, let Dad hear. See what he thinks about this.

Right on cue, a few seconds later, Virgil's dad walked in. "What's all the noise?" He asked, assessing the situation.

Virgil's stepmom stepped in to answer before he had a chance to. "Your son refuses to give me his phone and laptop," she said accusingly, then his dad spoke.

"Virgil, I think it's best if you give her your electronics," he said defeatedly, sighing as he did so. It was clear he didn't agree with this, but as he'd said to Virgil once before, it was sometimes easier to avoid a fight and just agree. Yeah, but siding with a woman you married right after the divorce over your son? He wanted to ask. He almost did, then Anna, his stepmom, called him in for something.

Virgil once again refused, he had bought the laptop with his own money after all, but then his dad started to raise his voice, starting an argument. Anna swiped the laptop and phone, and Virgil saw her do it just a little bit too late.

"FUCK!" He yelled after her, still having too much creative energy and now no way to get it out.

He explained this to his dad once Anna left, but his dad said that if he didn't have electronics around, to just use paper. That might be okay for most people, but Virgil wrote fast, and edited as he went along, and cross-outs and messy writing made him more anxious, rewriting took too long, erasing was too messy, paper writing was too messy. Messy gave him anxiety, the more messy it was, the more anxious he got, the more anxious he got, the more mistakes he made, which made it messier, which made him more anxious, which eventually led to a panic attack. But not having a way to release his creative energy also led to that. There was no other way to avoid it.

His dad, ever the asshole that he was, just said he was overreacting. Virgil wanted to correct his that no, having a panic attack wasn't overreacting, but his dad was already walking out of the room.

About ten minutes later, Virgil was a pacing mess himself, thinking about the mess of a notebook he had just made, which led to more stress, which led to more stressful thoughts, which led to missing Roman all over again. Roman was always the one to help him through these things. Roman had said that they still could be friends, but Virgil just felt awkward coming to his ex for help. He told himself he could deal with it on his own.

He apparently couldn't deal with it on his own. Twenty minutes later, he was sitting against the wall, hands running through his hair repeatedly, trying to find refuge of peace in the action but finding none. His breathing was ragged and uneven. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, and thoughts were streaking through his mind at the speed of a bullet train. He probably was just overreacting. He was just useless. All of this over a story idea! He couldn't deal with it anymore, he couldn't he couldn't he couldn't...

The next day he woke up with a cramp in his back, probably from falling asleep slumped against a wall. Today was the day he went to his mom's house.

He got dressed, grabbed his stuff, then got in the car quietly, not saying a word to his dad.

After an excruciatingly silent car ride, he finally reached his mom's house, and before getting out of the car he said, "It doesn't exactly help when someone calls a panic attack 'overreacting', by the way."

His dad denied saying this.

Virgil stormed off to the front door from the driveway, not having the energy to deal with this. Attacks always left him drained, and the fact that someone- his dad, nonetheless- had just dismissed his anxiety like that didn't help either.

He sighed when he heard the lock click, signaling that the door was unlocked, and walked into his mom's home, preparing for a long week of overwhelming schoolwork, annoying siblings, anxiety, and his nightmares that seemed to be getting all too frequent.

 Take it easy guys gals and non-binary pals, see you next time!