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Anonymous Wed 17 Jul 2024 06:55:44 No.67465212 Report
Quoted By: >>67465219 >>67466135
Anyways. Psychotic Greene.
>Be me
>Be Greene
>Walking home from school with Amber.
>Check behind me
>Yep. black cadilac still following us.
>Not really worried, just one of gruncle moe's goons making sure we get home safe.
>Get home from school
>Mom comes out from the living room, a big motherly smile as always.
>Asks us how our day was, asks if we have any homework. We both give her the usual "good" and a headshake before we make our way upstairs.
>Amber mutters something to me about some world of rock and craft, I simply wave her off.
>Today was particularly exhausting, the attempted assassination on drump yesterday basically gave Cynthia enough ammo to talk the entire day, if you had ears like dad they probably would have fallen off by now.
>She rolls her eyes at me and heads into to the gaming room while I walk into my humble box of personality.
>Don't even bother to take off my boots as I toss my backpack near the wall and collapse onto the bed.
>A nap couldn't hurt.
>Quickly take out my phone and set an alarm for around... lets say 20 minutes.
>Before I can turn the screen off, my phone plays the HUNTER pda notification noise (never gets old) as I get a text from "Cream Pop"
>'U home yet?'
>'Yeah. You?'
>'Stuck at school still ):'
>Another text comes quick after.
>'Spears keeps calling us in to argue about prom budget now I'm stuck double checking finances, almost want to just tell him to forward the bill for everything to my dad and think of it as a sponsor... Almost'
>Chuckle as I type out my own reply
>'It's better than needing to tell Judee that the theater budget is getting cut again.'
>'True, though this would go alot faster if I had some'
>There's a space between replies.
>'...encouragement to get home?'
>You raise an eyebrow.
>'You can do it my little creamsicle. I believe in you.'
>her reply doesn't come instantly
>'Not what I meant but ngl that works'
>What? What DID she mean then?
1/5
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Anonymous Wed 17 Jul 2024 06:56:00 No.67465219 Report
Quoted By: >>67465223 >>67466135
>>67465212
>'?'
>'Nothing. Call?'
>'Not right now. I'm really tired.'
>'You seemed like it during lunch you ok?'
>'Yeah just gonna take a quick nap, call you when I wake up.'
>'K Greenie you luv you have a good slep!'
>'sleep*'
>If someone held a mirror up to my face I would have the dorkiest smile.
>'Love you too Mel.'
>'<3 you more'
>'Impossible. That amount of love would kill a woman of your size.'
>'I survived and built a tolerance so I can love you even more.'
>'You got me there. Alright, any longer and I'm gonna pass out.'
>'Get some sleep babe'
>'I will ly.'
>'ly2'
>Too lazy to put my phone on my bedstand, I instead simply let it fall out of my hands onto the bed before closing my eyes.
2/5
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Anonymous Wed 17 Jul 2024 06:56:16 No.67465223 Report
Quoted By: >>67465227 >>67466135
>>67465219
https://youtu.be/7mCVxrq6kAg
You wake up to the blare of a ringtone you don't recognize.
You're drenched in sweat.
It's dark.
You feel for your phone, but it's not on the bed.
Your mind is a whir as you struggle to get up, your eyes barely able to adjust to the darkness
The phone is on the desk, still ringing as it fills the room with a noise that makes your head pound.
Did you put it there before you went to sleep?
No, it was on your bed. You know it was.
So why is it on the desk?
You must have forgotten.
>Always forgetting.
You make your way over, mind fuzzy as you have to feel your way through the darkness to pick up the ringing phone.
It's burning hot to the touch.
>It sears your fingers.
You don't recognize the number.
>Don't answer.
"H-hello?" Your voice is hoarse.
A voice whispers on the other end.
You can't hear what they're saying.
"C-can you please speak up?"
There's no response.
"W-who is this?"
Nobody.
You feel your stomach lurch as you pull the phone away from your ear and quickly hang up.
You try to look at the time, but you can't make out the numbers on the screen.
It's a blur.
>Everything's a blur.
Your phone slips from your hands, falling into nothing.
>Oblivion.
The whispers are still play in your ears, clearer, but you still can't make out what they say.
You jump as you hear a banging on your door.
Amber must be bored of solo dungeons.
You feel nauseous as you make your way over, slowly reaching out for the door handle.
The banging gets louder.
Amber doesn't bang this loudly your door... nobody does... they just knock before coming in...
You freeze as the thumps become slams, as if whatever on the other side is throwing themselves at the door with all their weight.
Whispers pierce your mind and overlap your thoughts.
Your head throbs.
Your stomach rolls.
Your tail is numb.
Your wings ache.
Your crest itches.
You need to take your medicine.
3/5
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Anonymous Wed 17 Jul 2024 06:56:32 No.67465227 Report
Quoted By: >>67465245 >>67466135
>>67465223
Where did you you put your backpack?
Eyes scan your room in the low-light
>Some of them aren't yours.
You can feel them turn onto you, your skin begins to crawl.
Eventually you manage to find the godforsaken bag and open the pocket where you keep the bottle.
You shove your hand into the pocket.
>Right into a handful of razors.
Your fingers are numb but you can still feel steel blades rending into your flesh, as pull a familiar orange bottle out of your backpack.
They're perfectly fine, just old bandaged cuts from an x-acto knife.
Your shaking hands struggle to open the pill bottle, but eventually getting it open.
Just throw two back and go back to sleep.
You'll be fine.
Two pills.
Maybe Three.
Except there aren't three.
Or two.
Or one.
There's nothing.
Nothing at all.
Your eyes widen, as if dread fell from the bottle instead of your prescription.
You need to take your medicine.
Hasty breaths begin to escape from you.
It's fine. Mom makes sure you keep an extra bottle in your drawer for this reason.
Just try to take a deep breath.
You try and fail, hyperventilating as you rip open your top drawer, broken glass and salt spilling onto the floor along with it.
You start desperately digging your hands into the pile, heart threatening to burst out from your chest.
Eventually your hands fall onto a piece of heft metal, and you freeze.
Slowly pulling the object from the pile. You immediately recognize what it is.
It's a Smith & Wesson K-38 Combat Masterpiece, double action, chambered in .38 Special.
Grandpa's old service handgun.
The first gun you've ever held, cleaned, and fired.
Mom used to let you take it out of the safe to clean with Dad's supervision.
Not anymore.
How did it get here?
How did we get here?
>That doesn't matter.
>You found it.
You stare at the revolver.
>It stares back.
>What are you waiting for?
>You need to take your medicine.
4/5
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Anonymous Wed 17 Jul 2024 06:57:20 No.67465245 Report
Quoted By: >>67465348 >>67465388 >>67465456 >>67466135 >>67466518
>>67465227
A shaking hand clasps the grip, slowly bringing the barrel up.
>"Never point a gun at anything you are not willing to destroy."
It's lost in a sea of endless whispers and thoughts.
You can feel the cold metal of the barrel seat itself comfortably under your chin.
Too comfortably.
It takes your breath away.
A bandaged claw seats itself on the trigger.
And everything goes silent for a moment.
Your claw gets itchy, agitated, heavier.
You're tired...
So tired...
It would be nice.
No more struggling to get out of bed, no more worrying about things that don't exist, no more being constantly annoyed, no more constantly feeling tired, no more pills, no more anything.
...
It falls from your hands.
You feel sick to your stomach, immediately standing up and wrenching open your bedroom door.
The hallway is even darker than the bedroom.
It doesn't matter. You can make the trip blind, even like this.
Thankfully the bathroom door is already open as you rush in and open the toilet lid.
You empty your stomach contents into the bowl,before pushing yourself up to look into the mirror.
Two glowing orbs of emerald stare back from the darkness and you take a step back.
The mat below you loses traction, sliding forward along with your boot.
You crash into the bathtub, somehow wrapping yourself in the bath curtain as you fall.
Everything hurts.
Your head still throbs.
Your stomach still rolls.
Your tail is still numb.
Your wings still ache.
Your crest still itches.
>They're screaming now.
You shut your eyes tight as tears begin to stream down your face.
>Of course your own reflection startled you and you slipped into the tub.
>Are you sure you didn't miss the toilet bowl too?
>Useless sick-in-the-head fuck.
>No wonder you want to kill yourself, though with your track record, you probably would have found a way to fuck that up too.
You don't have the energy to even get up.
The best you can do right now is ball up, and cry.
>They're so loud.
You let out a sob.
5/5