A Week 'Til Christmas

-1-

The wind brushed by me, flowing my long dirty hair and blowing the tent. It was cold. So, so cold.

But it wasn't like I could go anywhere, this was my home. I had to stay, where else would I go? What would Dream think if I left?

I curled up in a small ball at the very corner of my bed, using the thin blanket to cover me. I wanted so badly just to cry at this point. But I held it back, I held back all my emotions. It was just numb now.

My eyes shut gently, taking me into the state of darkness I liked so much. I missed it, the dark. it was comforting. It made me imagine how it would be like if I was dead. I only fell into rest to feel that.

I could never really fall asleep, though. I could tell I had bags under my eyes. I hadn't slept in weeks, and hadn't eaten in days. I didn't feel I deserved to.

Ghostbur used to urge me to eat, during the early exile. He stopped showing up, though. He probably forgot about me, I'm just a bad memory anymore.

Whenever I looked at food, not that it was much anymore, I felt like I was going to throw up. I didn't have the energy to get any either.

My head propped up as I heard shuffling around me. The very small child in me still had hope that someday, Tubbo would come. The rest of me dreaded that day, the day I saw Tubbo would be when we were both gone. I hoped, at least. I never wanted to speak to him again.

But like every day, it was just Dream. the only one who knew how bad it was for me here. Except he didn't see the hundreds of notes I wrote, trying to say goodbye. No one knew about those.

He pulled open the tent, letting small glimpses of light peak through. I squinted my eyes, trying not to look away. He didn't like when I didn't look at him. He would yell. I hated yelling.

I used to be the yelling, loud one though. I miss those times.

"Hey, Tommy." he greeted. I stayed quiet. He waited for an answer, though. I knew I had to. He would get angry, or do something bad. It was terrible enough already.

"Hey." I rasped out. It hurt just for a simple word. I held my knees closer to my chest. I felt myself start to shiver.

"Could I-i have your.. sweatshirt?" I asked, my voice shaky and gravelly. He seemed surprised by the question. "Sorry..it's fine.." I mumbled. I closed my eyes shut tight, still shaking a bit. Pathetic. Stupid. I shouldn't ask for more than what I deserve.

There was a light tap on my shoulder, I flinched back and looked around, but it was only Dream. Again. He was holding out his sweatshirt.

"Take it, Tommy. You're shaking." I gratefully grabbed it from his hands, examining the light green cloth. It was warm. I loved the warmth. My head gazed up at him, waiting for approval.

"Go ahead." He re-assured. With a small smile, I put my arms through and covered my head with the hood, sliding it down my body. It was way too big for me, But I didn't care. It was better than the freezing.

I finally noticed his attire now, though. He had a black shirt, many bandages covered his arms. There were extra protection, like armour, on his shoulders and chest. I had never seen him like that.

"Have you even gotten up since I was here yesterday?" he questioned, bringing me back to reality. I thought for a moment, trying to concentrate on his question, before simply shaking my head. "I-i don't think I have." I confessed. Would he be mad at that?