Wilbur is a 15 year old who's been through the foster system since he was 7. He expects the Watson house to be the same as others but, is it really gonna be the same? Maybe not.
This story has a story of abrupt ending due to the fact I ended it when...
What does dad need to ask? As soon as we got done putting the bags on the counter I went up to my room, changed into shorts and a tee shirt, and pretended to be asleep.
I hear a knock on my door a minute later, followed by it opening.
Phil sighs,"I know your awake tom."
"I'm not" I reply
"Tommy."
"Fine what?" I jolt up, getting a shocked expression from him.
"Earlier this morning when I pulled up your blanket to put it on you, I saw something under your bed, I could be wrong, it could be paint or something-"
Fuck.
"But," he grabs something under my bed
Fuck.
"Is this blood tommy?"
Fuck.
"I uh yeah but it's from when tubbo scraped his knee like a month ago and I swear I thought I put that in the wash I guess not haha uh you should probably put that down it's got tubbos old blood on it that's kinda gross haha anyways was that it dad?"
I said in one breath. He knows that was a lie.
"Tommy please tell me the truth."
"That is the truth"
"Tommy I didn't wanna say this because it seems really harsh to say outloud-"
Shit.
"Are you...uh hurting yourself"
shit.
"What the fuck dad no!"
That was too defensive but maybe he bought it?
"Show me your thigh then! Why were you limping earlier, and now I think about it, you limp alot, you never wear shorts above the knee, any of it!"
Thank God he thinks it's my thigh
I pull up my shorts,
"There! You happy?"
"What's that toms?"
Huh
I look down. Fuck I cut to far down this morning. 2 cuts are visible, Its only 2 I can play this off.
"Tubbos cat scratched me"
"That doesn't look like a cat scratch. If that's what it is there should be no more cuts when you pull your shorts higher."
(A/n this isn't weird it's just a dad who's worried about his kid don't be a creep.)
Fuck
"Dad I've already proven myself!"
"Please Tom's"
"You know I wouldn't do that after what happened!"
"Tommy just show me please!"
"Fuck fine."
I pull it up higher, revealing a few more cuts
"Tommy why?"
His eyes are watering. He feels like he has failed 2 of his kids now.
"I uh I tried it when I saw techno. I thought 'whats so good about hurting yourself' and tried. I never should have I'm sorry but I-"
He pulls me into a hug
"Does anyone else know?" He asks me calmly, I feel his tears hit the back of my shirt.
"Tubbo." I sigh "please don't tell techno he'll feel guilty"
"I have to tommy, hell find out eventually."
"no dad please"
"How about you tell him"
"I can't"
"You can. He's gonna wonder why you randomly need therapy, what I asked you, why I'm gonna be crying when I leave this room, why Im suddenly paying even more attention to you, he'll put it together, he's been through it first hand."
"But I-" I sigh "I'll tell him within the next month."
"There you go Tom's, if you need help you can ask. Also I'm getting you therapy first off, and second off I need whatever you hurt yourself with tommy"
"I know." I walk over to my dresser and grab my blade out of my sock drawer, it has a coat of dried, old, blood on the corner of it.
He opens his mouth to speak when he sees it. Yet he says nothing.
He hugs me. That's all he does. He hugs me.
"Goodnight, I love you tommy" he says as he's leaving the room.
" 'night. Love you"
Soon enough my tears fade and then does my vision. My thoughts freeze in time, making sure they'll resume as soon as I wake up.
I wish I could stay like this, asleep I mean.
I know I can. It would be so easy to kill myself. When you think about it anyone can kill themselves at any time.
They can over dose, hang themselves, drown themselves, shoot themselves, stab themselves, poison themselves. The list goes on.
And I know people do.
So many people kill themselves every day.
It's sad honestly.
But sometimes, I'll be in a public area, weather it be school, a store, a park, anywhere, I'll look at people and think
'why haven't they killed themselves?'
Nothing is physically stopping them.
Why haven't they.
Are they actually happy? Are they scared of disappointing people? Don't want to leave loved ones?
Then I relize
You don't need a reason to not kill yourself.
You just need to be a certain level of sane.
I'm almost to the point of killing myself, but I won't, I'll get better. I swear.
Phil will help me get better. He promised!
I'll be better.
Better than techno is, better than he's ever been! I'll actually be better!
I just need to try. That's the scary part. I need to try to get better.
I know I want to be better, but, do I care to be better?
I don't. But I will! I'll care for Phil! I'll be better for Phil!
A/n heyyyy I'm sorry for the short chapter, it was gonna be longer but I wasn't done with it and then ended up burninh my hand and can barely type :(
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
