Craving Normality - A Wilbur Soot Angst

Chapter 19

'The police have taken the DNA evidence you gave the first night you got away from him.' Phil explained solemnly. 'It's incriminating, there's no question that Kristen and I will be able to get custody if that's what you guys want.'

'I'm s-sorry.' Wilbur thought that this was the best time to speak up and apologise.

'What do you mean?' Phil looked perplexed.

'For g-going with him, we're sorry, we'll make up for it and-'

'Wilbur, stop. You don't have to be sorry, he forced you to go with him. And even if you had chosen to go with him, I would have no right to be angry; I'm not in charge of what you do or where you go. Nobody owns you, okay?'

Wilbur took a moment to process this response before nodding, still unsure.

'How's that cut doing?'

'G-good.'

'I'm sorry.' Tommy whispered under his breath.

'It's not your fault.' Wilbur said for what seemed like the hundredth time. Tommy didn't respond.

• • •

As soon as they arrived back at Phil's house, Tommy ran up the stairs and shut himself in his room. Kristen had been waiting to greet them at the door; her expression turned to one of confusion and she started to go after him, but Phil grabbed her arm gently.

'Give him some time.' He murmured.

Kristen turned towards Wilbur and smiled. 'Hot chocolate?' She asked.

Wilbur didn't know why, but for once the offer seemed inviting so he shyly accepted. Perhaps it was that he was grateful for her efforts to return to normality rather than smothering him in suffocating sympathy.

Phil headed upstairs with his phone to talk to the police about the situation while Kristen served Wilbur a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

'You know, I'm always here if you want to talk.' She offered gently.

Wilbur was about to decline, but again something about the suggestion seemed strangely appealing, and he found himself opening his mouth and allowing himself to confide in someone for the first time.

'My Dad used to take me fishing all the time. It was our favourite thing to do, and Tommy didn't enjoy it, so it was just us. We used to take pictures whenever we caught a fish, and he'd be so proud of me. He always used to help me with my homework, and he would explain things really clearly so that I could always understand them and he'd never get angry at me for being confused. Sometimes during the school holidays he would take me and Tommy to the cinema, and he always let us have as many sweets as we wanted. And then the day after my fourteenth birthday he... you know... for the first time, and he was gone, just like that. It was like he'd died. It felt like my life was over. And then I had to deal with mourning my father and mourning my life at the same time. And now he might be going to prison, and it feels like it's my fault, because I can't help but see him as the Dad that took me fishing on the weekends, even though he's also the Dad who abused me every day.'

Wilbur took a deep breath, concentrating on not crying. He didn't want to look up at Kristen, afraid of what she would say to him.

'You know, all of these feelings are perfectly valid. Just because he hurt you so badly doesn't mean that you're going to forget about the years where you trusted and loved him so much. It doesn't help that you had to mourn him in private, because nobody else knew that the father you loved was gone. That must have been extremely difficult.'

'Yeah. I miss him, but I'm so, so scared of him at the same time.'

Kristen nodded, her eyes sympathetic but not in a patronising way.

'One summer, we went camping. All three of us. Tommy and I were meant to share a tent, but he made a fuss so Dad and I did instead.' He noticed Kristen's change of expression and quickly explained. 'Nothing happened; he didn't touch me or anything. We toasted marshmallows, and we made food on this weird gas cooking thing, and then Dad and I decided that the tent was too hot so we went outside and he told me what all of the stars were. I don't remember anything of what he told me, but I remember feeling happy. And safe. And I never thought he would hurt me, because he was so protective of me and Tommy.' Wilbur inhaled shakily and looked up at Kristen, who nodded encouragingly for him to continue.

'So... so when things changed, I thought it was my fault. I thought I'd done something, that I'd upset him somehow. I tried everything: I cooked for him; I cleaned my room, and then the whole house; I tried harder in school so my grades would be better. But nothing changed, and he kept on hurting me, and... I never saw the Dad I knew again. I started... I started c-cutting myself because I couldn't handle everything. A-and then I tried to k-kill myself, but it didn't work, and I wish it had.' Kristen's face fell.

'Wilbur, you don't really wish you were-'

'Yes. I do. I want to be dead. Lying there in that bathtub, I really thought it was over, and I thought I was going to be free. I've never been so relieved, so happy. I want to die.'

Kristen opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by shouting coming from upstairs. Wilbur jumped slightly, before recognising the voice as Tommy's. Both of them immediately ran upstairs, and as they got closer to Tommy's room, they could hear Phil softly talking with the boy.

Wilbur burst through the door.

'-gets to hurt himself, why can't I?!' He only heard the tail end of Tommy's sentence, but quickly pieced together what was happening when he looked down at his little brother's arms. They were littered in pink scratches, some of which were bleeding slightly.

'N-no Toms, please no...' Wilbur choked. He backed slowly out of the doorway, bringing his hands up to his face and covering his eyes.

It was his fault.

He had "inspired" Tommy to do this to himself.

Die.

Die.

DIE.

He didn't hesitate before turning around and sprinting down the stairs, opening the front door, and running.

He ran like he'd never run before.

All he could hear was the blood pounding in his head and the voice repeating the same word over and over and over again.

Die.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter everyone, and I hope you're all doing well.

I've been struggling a bit with food recently (I'm doing okay now) and I just wanted to remind myself and all of you that it is NOT worth it. We're meant to eat, it's how we survive. We're allowed to enjoy food, and fuck calories because they really mean nothing. Your weight doesn't define you or your happiness, and you are so worth it and so loved.

Have a good day or night <3

(And vote otherwise you'll get rickrolled every minute of every day for the rest of your life xx)