*ON HOLD* To good to be true (Markiplier x child Oc)

all on my own

beep beep beep beep beep... the incessant beeping of my mother's heart monitor had become a normal thing for me to wake to each beep a small victory in my mom's favor.  "come on mommy wake up." as expected nothing happens mom had been in a coma for over 2 months and i haven't left her side since. I didn't really know what was going on other than mommy was sick and not waking up. I grabbed my sketch pad from the night stand and start doodling aimlessly. Mommy had once said that i had a natural talent for art. i guess i do because my  friend Luna said the same thing. I finish up the drawing of my favorite animal, a fox, and set it on the stack of papers next to mommy's bed for her to see when she woke up. but she never did and 1 week later i heard the dreaded  beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. doctors rushed in pushing me out. and to a 6 year-old being pushed into a crowded hallway is terrifying. i had no idea what was going on and i clutched my sketchbook close to my chest as i make my way over to a bench and sit. what feels like hours pass before I feel a light tap on my shoulder "hey Lexi I have something to tell you" it was Clara she was one of the nice nurses who took care of mommy. I liked her because she would bring me candy. but her voice no longer held it's usual playfulness and was instead somber " Alexandria Foxwood... Your mother is dead" she started saying something about the foster system but I wasn't really paying attention  I just kept hearing that one phrase over and over a gain your mother is dead. even when i was asked to pack my things i just went through the motions. I wasn't sad I was just.... numb.

For the next 8 years of my life I hopped from one abusive foster home to next. i had many cuts and bruises just a bout everywhere on my body. after one particular incident in which my drunkn foster 'father' had started using me as his personal punching bag. I decided that  i needed to get out of there so after both he and his wife had left for work the next morning i grabbed some essentials (canned foods, nuts, trailmix, a change of clothes, first aid kit, my passport,ect.)and money. luck for me they just kinda shoved cash in any nook and cranny they could find. so after about 45 minuets of collecting money from all over the house i quickly organized all of my things in my backpack, grabbed my brown leather jacket , and my sketch book... or what's left of it anyway. one on my foster 'moms' had ripped it in half. after one last run threw of the house and my plan i left with a sigh of relief and never looked back.

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A/n: 

so yea that was sad. sorry bout that... 

 also for context because i know someone is gonna ask, Her father is dead.

it's 4am so I'ma go to bed night ya'll