Life In Misery | fan!yandere x reader

11/15/17

Once you rested in the bed after your trip about the house, it felt like the entire place was dead. Not even mice or ants or termites. Nothing. It also feels like there's no correct way to lay on your back now. It seems too obvious, like if he walked in know he'd know everything and this time he'd break your legs for good with that sledge and take the casts and wheelchair away with no second thought.

Earlier, when you looked outside, there was a promiscuous layer of ice about the lawn, and surely on the sidewalk aswell. It made the grass look like it had piles of windshield glass sprinkled in it.

It was beautiful. You wished to feel bitten by the cold again. How long have you been asleep? It couldn't have been terribly long. It looks so different outside from before. That is terrifying. The windows would fog when your breath came in contact with it. Halloween wasn't even cold; maybe jacket weather. Now it looks like it wants to snow.

You couldn't help it, but you feared for Mike driving outside and getting hurt, or worse, killed.
Had he not been your only caretaker now and probably for a while more, you would rather he did die, but presently you can't do anything. You're helplessly hooked on his pills, He has all of the keys... And he makes the food, buys it too.

You almost died driving with no snow on the ground. Whose to say he won't meet the same fate?

He hasn't been gone for very long. You think about if you screamed, and what would happened if he heard you instead of anyone else. You can't tell where you are, but there is definitely a variety of large, luscious greenery surrounding the entire circumference of the tiny home. Endless forest. You'd definitely not get far with this weak wheelchair. You'd be slow, loud, get scraped up just about everywhere, and would freeze and die. Alone.

What an asshole, He could've atleast fed you before he left. How careful. He wants you to feel bad and you do. Bad about him. Yourself.

What ever happened to the cute nervous fan that just sent you letters; He was quite perfect in the nerdy sense. It was late-onset that you connected the two. That might be why it makes so little sense.. Because now, he's a hawk that stared from the darkness and threatened to shatter your legs twice-fold when you were bad. This was life in misery, being bed ridden and in pain for increments of the day.
He'd better come back with pills and food. Maybe a shower too?

You made sure the door was relocked from outside by taking a quick look at it. Your legs hurt like hell, and it was pretty stupid to be flailing around in that wheelchair, acting like you could walk again with how much you moved them to get onto it. Even your arms were still hurting.

You suddenly became hyperaware of your clothes. You theorize that he hasn't changed your clothing since the initial experience, thank god, but you also aren't scarily dirty. Maybe a little greasy.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you reached up and touched the hair that sat upon your head.

That is.... Okay. It feels like it'd been washed about the same rate as usual, maybe a bit dry... which means too often. You moved your hands around your head and have found that it is [Tied back/Braided] very messily, however still so.

You slowly took off your shirt, another first in a long while, and made move to remove your bottoms. There seemed to be nothing else you could do so you forcefully ripped the dirty underclothing from you, hissing in anguish.

Now your chest was bare and your dirty discardings were in a pile on the floor. And it felt like the house was now all eyes. The true ugly grimace of despair was not being trapped here with him, But being trapped, alone, in his house.

Your fingers reached out and over to the wardrobe beside the bed. Then you streeeetched until you could finally touch the handle just barely, listening to the old wood scrape against eachother and it revealed some clothing. Brilliant.

Inside were various pairs of a white pants/white shirt combinations, and right next them were a contrasting pile of black shirts and black pants. However, no underwear spotted... to your dismay.

You dressed in the black shirt. The sensitive topic of pants... Now to stare at the bruised mass of meat beneath the cover.

They weren't as bad as you previously thought. The.. The bones are still there. You know because you can feel them, and might be able to bend them. But that was only if you want to go through 4 hours of excruciating pain just to see.

It just looked like the uncovered meat on your upper thighs had been through a blender. Was it from impact? Sliding against the pavement? There was glass all over your body, you wouldn't doubt the fact that there is most likely glass stuck in all parts of the bandaged, shredded muscle before you.

Though you're used to being alone in the room, you atleast had Mike to speak to himself enough to feel like you had some company.

You fear and anticipate him coming back, its a very odd conflicting feeling. Maybe you could try to make peace with him again. In some sort of way.

You entire body still aches quite terribly, and despite your raging hunger, you slowly began to give into sleep.

-

Surprisingly you managed to sleep for a while, because when you blinked your eyes back open there was no more light from the window. There was actually none at all. Just you in a hushed, dim house.

It could not have been less than 3 hours but no more than 10 or 11. That margin would seem senseless to much anyone but yourself.

Even though you haven't in so long, your mind went to swing your legs off the bed to stand yet stopped in an embarrassing sadness before you could even sit up.

The house no longer felt as empty as it did earlier, it was a mystery if it was from him returning while you slept or your slumber allowing you to let your guard down. Either way things are different and that only brought fear. Large, hairy fear with teeth and eyes. You sat awake for what realistically felt like about 10 minutes. Absolute silence. No pacing. No talking. No door-opening, and no cars pulling up or driving by. Nothing.

You tried to look out the window but it was hard without getting out and using the wheelchair. From what was saw, there were no headlights or outside lights on and noone standing or sitting outside on the grass or sidewalk. Great, just what you wanted. No notable information.

Slowly but surely you felt like it was the beginning of something terrible. Your mouth was dry and it felt like you were dying. Melting maybe, like a candle.

Presently you were convinced your skin would molt off all at once and reveal the veins and muscle beneath it, letting the cold air hit it while your body overworked internally to keep you over-warm. Everything here was either scalding or freezing.

Withdrawls. You held your head as your brain also felt as if it was exposed, maybe trying to break the invisible barrier between it and the outside. The skull has become too small for such a generous organ.

Now you were dizzy. And if you were actually hydrated you'd piss yourself from it all. There were shadows of things standing and moving in the corner, a brain trying to escape and translucent skin.

" P-Phone, Police, hospital. Hopsital. " You felt around and without right mind, began to swing your legs around the bed out of instinct. It was almost like you didn't learn your lesson earlier, as the mere flexing of your thighs and influx of air made everything in your ongoing wake-mare so much more painful. And you had to stop yourself from throwing acid up all over yourself. God, what are you now? A baby?

Michael would see you as a child if he found you quivering with spit up all on you like this. You pensively laid down and hugged your self in effort to usher everything back down, shutting your eyes tight.

The things look so real but they arent. They look really real. But they'd never be. No one would ever be here with you, anyway..

Despite this fact you feared openly and intensely, trying to rid yourself of the heat and chill by opting to strip and cover yourself with a blanket on the parts that felt genuinely cold.

Now, you were back in only your undergarments. Noone has seen your face, and no-one has ever relayed seeing you in undergarments so you figured as long as Michael wasn't sticking his nose in, you were going to attempt to ride this out. It was your only option - he chose, you decided.