"𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐿𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝐴𝑤𝑓𝑢𝑙...𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑈𝑠, 𝑀𝑎𝑡𝑒." | 𝑆𝐵𝐼 𝐴𝑈

𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑦-𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛

TW// cussing, attempted suicide, physical abuse, name-calling, crying, mention of self harm scars, bruises, bullying mention
I think that's all?

(If you are triggered by attempted suicide and things such as it, I highly recommend skipping this chapter. I'll add a brief summary at the end, but this chapter is Wilbur dreaming about the night he went to off himself.)

3rd person POV

After Wilbur was done writing in his journal, he placed it in the box, along with his suicide note, and locked the box. He put the box in the top of his closet, and hid the key in a smaller box in the far corner, where he could barely even reach, while being six foot four.

He was wearing a black t shirt, and some black jean shorts. He threw on a blue hoodie with a bird and some clouds to cover the bruises on his arms, and left his bedroom.

He didn't bother covering the one on his chin, or the cuts in his legs; he'd be gone soon, anyways.

"Hey, Mama, Dad, I'm gonna go take a walk!" Wilbur announced, going towards the front door, flicking his hood up to better hide the bruise incase someone looked at him.

"It's so late, though." His Dad replied. It was like 8 pm. "I know, but I need some fresh air, if that's alright." Wilbur replied. "That's fine, just be back soon, please." His mama said.

"I will be."

He wouldn't be.

Wilbur left the house, and walked down the street. He was lucky his legs weren't noticed. He knew where he was going. There was a really high bride over some deep water around where he lived.

He walked with his head down when people passed him.

The walk felt long.

He felt like he was walking the mile.

(For people who don't know, walking the mile is when someone is getting put to de@th in prison, and the hall they walk down to go to the room where it happens is sometimes called "The mile".)

Wilbur arrived at the bridge.

The breeze was nice. Wilbur took his hood off, closing his eyes and just enjoying the breeze that waved him goodbye from the world.

"Hey, look! It's Wilbur-fucking-Gold!" Someone yelled.

Wilbur looked over, seeing three people from school, just a few of his bullies. There were many more than three.

Wilbur wanted to scream. He was there to escape those assholes, not be tormented in his last few moments on earth.

"What're you doing here, four eyes?" One yelled as they came towards Wilbur, who didn't even try to run away. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

As they got within just a few feet of Wilbur, he began to back up, and they kept coming.

"Where are you backing up to? There's nowhere to go, Wilbur!"

Wilbur backed into the bridge railing.

"We're really gonna miss you during the summer, you know. We just wanna talk while we still can." One of the boys said.

"Please...go away. I cannot do this right now." Wilbur said, digging his nails into his palms. "Come on, don't be a pussy! You can't handle us? Please." One laughed.

Wilbur felt a hand grab his arm and he shut his eyes tight, letting himself cave into whatever beating he was about to get. He zoned out, which is what he usually does. Zoning out doesn't do much, he can still feel the pain, but it help him put his mind to other things a the same time.