Tubbo SBI Adoption au

plan for the future

Tubbo pov

Wiping the sweat off my forehead I sigh and look at the freshly tidied living room that I had just finished cleaning. I lived in an apartment with my mother, it was small but it had all the necessary rooms, a bathroom, living room, the kitchen had to wall to the living room and was also used as the dining room, then there was a large bedroom and a small bonus room, or in this case, my room.

Everyday i had a list of chores to do, typically consisting of, clean a room, do laundry, take out trash, dust the house, and i had just finished crossing off 'clean the living room' from my list.

That was my final chore for tonight which meant I could typically take a break but tonight I took a little longer cleaning than expected. Looking at the time it was already 6:00 and I had to have food prepared for mother when she got home from work, I already ate at around 4:00 so I didn't need to worry about making two meals. She's not my real mom but she's the only parental figure I have, seeing as all I remember from my past is being at the orphanage. I sighed looking at the neat room one last time, proudly, before starting work on mothers dinner.

Walking to the kitchen I thought about what I should make for mother. I only have about a half an hour so something simple and easy to make would be my best option. Settling on making a wrap I started getting out a pan, plate, cutting board, butter, the tortilla, and the ingredients. I put the pan on the stove and placed a small square of butter within the pan. After turning on the trove I went to chop some onions, being careful not to get the fumes in my eyes. Moving on from the onions I took the chicken and put it in the pan, turning it and flipping it every once in a while to make sure it doesn't burn. My chicken seemed close to done after about seven minutes so I turned off the stove and left the slab of meat in the pan.

It took a little while to dice the rest of the ingredients and put them in the wrap but I finished right on time to hear someone at the front door trying to get it open. Grabbing the plate that the wrap was placed on and a cola I went to go stand by the door as always. Standing with her food in one hand and her drink in the other, I watch as a very wobbly mother creaks the door open with one hand placed on her left temple and the other with an empty bottle in hand.

'She's drunk again.' I thought to myself slightly worried of what will happen.

"Hello mother dearest! I made you dinner, it's a chicken wrap with red onions, lettuce, spinach, avocado and shredded cheese." I greeted her as I simply stood there.

She groaned something before looking at the plate in my hands, then at me. I suddenly felt anger rise off of her body, she has a short temper most of the time but it gets worse when she's under the influence.

"Fuck'en brat..." I hear her say under her breath right before the bottle, formerly in her hand, shattered on the ground next to me. Not wanting the wrap I prepared to get ruined by the effects of her drunken rage, I set it down on the countertop next to me along with her cola.

I sighed looking down at the ground, waiting for whatever was about to--

My thought process had been cut off by a sudden strong pain on my right cheek. She had slapped me.

I touched my now red cheek with the tips of my fingers as she started spouting drunk slurred comments. "You call tHAt paThEtic thiNg fooooD?! God you'Re so fUck'en SHHtupId. I can't beLIEVe I deCiDed to bRing such A WORTHLESS—" mother reeled her arm back and I tensed. " SoRry excuSe Of a pERson inTo MY hOME." Her arm shot forward hitting me in the same spot she did before, though with the force of this hit, she sent me falling onto the glass covered ground.

"Get this sHit holE clEaned up you dirty rAt." Satisfied with her drunk tantrum's result, mother so kindly stepped over me as she headed to her room.

I stayed in the same position, glass pierced through my skin, tears on the verge of falling, until I heard her room door slam and lock, I flinched at the noise but took it as my chance to get up. Wincing I put my hands on the floor pushing myself off the now glass and blood covered ground. Once I managed to get myself off the floor, I quietly headed to the washroom to wash my cuts.

Turning on the bathroom light I can now see myself in the mirror, red bruising cheek, clutching onto my right blood covered arm. Not only the obvious but I could see my minor faults as well. The large dark bags under my eyes, my one life filled with green eyes now dead and dull, my messy untamed hair, god I look awful.

Staring into that mirror I was in a trance like state, pointing out every last flaw on my body like it was my job. It ranged from how much weight I had put on to the size of my wrists, how I needed to cut my nails to how my eyelashes are too long for my liking, my currently bleeding arm to-- oh yeah, my arm is bleeding. Focusing back on the task at hand I turn on the tap and get bandages ready for when I'm done cleaning the cuts scattered along my arm. I grabbed some tweezers and took the remaining glass out of the cuts, then ran water over my arm to clear away all the blood and sanitized the cuts. Wrapping my arm in a bandage I looked back at the mirror.

I let my eyes wander for a moment, looking at all the scars and bruises scattered on my body, then landing on my now bandaged arm. 'You can't keep doing this' my thoughts suddenly became the only thing i could hear.

Staring down at my arm I let my mind make its point. 'Look at yourself, you're tired and drained,,,, hurt too. You did such good work today and made an amazing meal and this is what you get!'

"It wasn't to mothers liking, this is what i get for not doing it right the first time." i said quietly to myself, replying to my own thoughts.

'Mother should be thankful that you know how to cook! You'd be better off by yourself at this point, you're not gaining anything but scars here."

"And what is that supposed to mean? You say all these thing about going off by myself but it's not like i can just--"

'Run away.'

The room fell silent after those words ran through my head. I felt like I was sitting there for almost an hour, thinking nothing, saying nothing, doing nothing. It was like a punishment for even thinking those words, but when I thought them they felt,,, freeing yet wrong and somehow worrying.

I was confused at the sudden rush of emotions and after the long moment of nothing my brain kept repeating the same two words. 'Run away, run away, run away, run away' they kept getting louder and louder and before i knew it i was in my room pacing back and forth. 'Run away? Run away. Run away! Run away?! RUN AWAY!'

The words felt so loud, I gripped the side of my head by my hair and covered my ears with my palms.

'RUN AWAY!'

"No!"

'R̶U̵N̴ ̷A̴W̴A̵Y̶!"

"I can't! Where would i--

'R̷̡̔Ů̶̦N̵̲͝ ̶̪̃A̷̬͗Ẇ̸ͅÀ̵͎Y̸̨!'

"I can't just leave! What if I get caught?! Who would--" My thoughts got caught off when I accidentally ran into my bedroom window. I was slightly relieved that I did because it was distracting enough to stop myself from screaming at my own thoughts. I looked out the window to a dark and peaceful street, no cars were going by. It was just the streetlights shining brightly, trees softly flowing with the wind and the full moon with the stars as its background.

It was pretty to look at, calming in a way. "Running away huh?" I spoke to no one but my own shaky voice. I looked back at a garbage can that had bloodied tissues and badaids in it, my closet which contains about four outfits, a pair of shoes and a satchel, the old walls that keep me here, my creaky unmade bed with tear stains by my pillow.

"..."

"Doesnt sound too bad" 

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heres where ill put and authors notes! this is my first fanfic so make sure to let me know if you like it, it'll inspire me to keep going.