Toonievilla edgfiction

Chapter 1

'Current protocol: chug more coffee.'

There he rested, withering away on the edge of his bed. His forehead was covered in sweat...He was exhausted. If 10 hours of non-stop car ride wasn't enough to make him faint, well, unpacking right afterward surely finished him off. You can't always win, it's something he had learned throughout his life. And currently, it's fair to say that he had lost to fatigue.

The Brunette snatched the small square rectangular box that laid next to him, switching its power to on. Several colorful notifications popped up, seizing the boy's attention. 

He clicked the notifications and typed in his password, but ultimately turn off his phone before he could read the messages. He closed his eyes and rested the thing aside.

'Perhaps another day...' He thought. 'I could use some self-time. Let me treasure this day of freedom before something else bullshit happens.'

Pictures of the steaming engine, the sound of the roaring siren. It was still all too real for him...Every time the images flashed by during his slumber, felt like reliving a nightmare, except it wasn't, because it happened. He was stuck in a perpetual cycle of screams and torment. Unable to pull out. Every night, the gods reminded him.

Why did it have to be him, why not the homophobic assholes in his physical education class.

Oh, how he begrudged them, their giddy faces clashing into their parent's grasp after a stressful month of Mid-term examination. 'Hey, sweetheart, a barely passing grade for your base level Biology fuckery? That's wonderful! Oh, celebration it is, whatever you ask for! Your parents will buy them for you!"

And there he stood, holding his results, a full hundred and twenty for every class. What did he get? Aside from the cold palms of the orphanage caretakers, and their corpse-like faces. Sometimes Villager puts heavy doubt on the humanity of these, Frankenstein-faced creatures who roam the earth just to fuck up young children's lives. Perhaps a word of congratulations? 'Oh, Villager! Your hard work has paid off!' Or maybe 'I am proud of you.' ...No? Alright...

The boy sat up and grabbed his white mug next to him, drinking more of the strange brownish liquid that became his last embers of fuel. He wanted to drop dead and sleep so badly, but he couldn't, he was starving.

Each night, he sat alone on his bed. He could be crying his cornea out, screaming in despair, but what was the point? For many days and nights, the boy Prayed that one day, he would be unable to open his eyes once again. Finally parting his ways with hatred.

Perhaps it was sheer luck, or perhaps the gods that belittled him years ago finally took pity on him. A young, beautiful couple, took his hands and rubbed them against theirs. Being adopted, was a fortune for him, a priceless fortune.

All that led him here. It was one hell of a spinning waltz with fate, and he came on top. A family, this is what he wanted, right? Now, let it be known that he had outwitted fate.

Throwing everything behind, is this what he wanted? Erasing and tricking his mind from ever thinking about his past anymore?

In all reality...The best way to describe his life at this instant has to be: It could be worse.

Yeah, what an optimistic way to view life. But what is optimism anyways?

He should be happy, he should be laughing at those who are less fortunate, those who are still confined in that sick and lonely prison. The boy wasn't sad by any means, but he couldn't manipulate his expression or disposition anymore. In other words, simply smiling was a chore for him.

What the fuck even was him anymore? Does anyone know? He had been an atheist all his life, (the holiest thing he had probably ever prayed for had to be the oversize stuffed toy of Birdo sitting in the back of his suitcase), but Jesus wouldn't even know who he was anymore.