Forget-Me-Not (dreamxreader)

22 || You're Not Real

TW: YELLING, SWEARING, BLOOD, VIOLENCE, NEGATIVE SELF TALK, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, VERBAL ABUSE, HALLUCINATIONS

So everybody, whenever there's a TW for suicidal thoughts, it will always be whenever Tommy's POV is. It may not be all the time but it will be in Tommy's POV. If you find that triggering I recommend you skip that section or tread lightly. It's in there because I'm creating a physical image of Tommy's descent to madness (Macbeth style ;) ). It doesn't impact any of the "lore" so to speak. 

Remember to read safely <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~ Tommy's P.O.V ~~~~ 

I remember back home how much I used to love rainy days. Not home in L'Manburg, that place was long gone. I mean home, in the village, with Wilbur and Techno and Phil and Tubbo. 

Some days it would rain so hard that it would unearth some of Techno's potatoes. It made him so angry he'd strut about the house in silence until he could go out and fix it. It was priceless, Wilbur and I would play tricks on him because he refused to talk. 

"Say nothing if you have a girlfriend," we'd tease. "Say nothing if you're pregnant," was our favourite. Sometimes we got him to smile with us or he'd rush to his room so we wouldn't get the privilege of seeing him crack. We always knew he was laughing though.

But most of all I loved rainy days because, once it stopped raining, Tubbo would come over in his green wellies ready for an adventure. I'd put on my red wellies and we'd run out into the muddy streets. Water slipped down in between the uneven cobblestone roads and filled gutters to the brim. We would jump in as many puddles as we could find and come home soaked. 

Phil would scold us and sit us down in front of the fire with some soup. Mum's soup recipe, "the cure for everything" he would say. When Mum was still alive, and I hadn't met Tubbo yet, she was the one who would take me jumping in muddy puddles. She's hold my hands and lift me into the air and I'd come crashing down making the biggest splashes. I loved it. 

Most of all I loved how happy it made Mum. Her green eyes would sparkle when she looked down at me and her wavy brown hair would shimmer in the sun that was cutting through the clouds. She was always smiling, always happy. 

The puddle that showed me my reflection now was one I couldn't bring myself to stomp in. It was the only mirror I had; though I hated the person who looked back at me. 

I wasn't the little boy playing in the muddy streets with his mother. I wasn't the best friend making trouble and hooting with laughter. I wasn't the kid curled up by the fireplace with a warm bowl of soup. 

I was a shell of a person, a person I wasn't sure I knew anymore. 

Bags under my eyes, matted hair that had grown longer and now hugged just below where my hairline used to be. My shirt had tears in the neck and on all the hems, my shoe has a hole in the toe and the soles are so stiff they feel like bricks. My socks were long ago threadbare. 

I deserve this. I don't deserve to be happy like I was, Dream caring about me at all is a privilege I don't deserve. I've fallen a long way and it was a distance I needed to fall. 

I was arrogant, selfish, I didn't care about the people who cared about me. I was a villain, Wilbur's assistant. I didn't stand up for the people who needed me and I regret it. If I was just a good person then maybe I wouldn't be here. If I had a shred of self-control maybe Tubbo would still be at my side.