It Wasnt My Fault (DNF)

Part 2: Chapter 30

George pov

It was nighttime, and I was sat in front of the large window of the living room once again, Dream at my side, leaning onto his shoulder as thoughts swam around my mind.

Everything seemed so random, my life felt so disorganized.

I didnt like it.

I didnt like the deceit, and if I told Ken about it, all he'd tell me was that it had to be that way.

But he'd also told me that he was working for my happiness.

A heart heavy with liquid lies weighed down any lightweight moment I could experience.

My mind that was plagued with confusion at the half-truths that replayed in my mind over and over was unable to focus on any joy that dangled in front of me.

Once again, it felt as though I was feeling everything at once.

I was happy that Ken had a boyfriend in his too short life.

I felt pressured and somewhat confined to the expectation to house him.

I was glad when I was with Clay, but as more secrets submerged from the grasp of the people I trusted the most, the secrets I knew he was keeping caught my attention more than any heartfelt moment we shared could.

I couldnt get it out of my head.

Everyone was lying to me.

I was lying to everyone, faking emotions, feigning stability.

Did Ken forget just how lost I was even before I'd met all these new people?

Did he misplace the memories of countless glares and snarls I sent people's way?

My shoulder felt cold at the thought of the past time, causing me to pull a blanket over myself in the absence of Ken's supportive hold on it.

He used to do that to show me that he supported me.

When was the last time he did that?

When was the last time he tried to help me with something that pertained to me.

Me.

So many parts of me seemed to belong to other people.

My heart belonged to Clay, my love latching onto the mere thought of him, causing me to want to always be in his hold.

My mind seemed to have been handed over to Astro, something he could meticulously pick apart for its memories of his dead boyfriend.

Dead.

Death.

Die.

The thoughts were back, the image of empty air surrounding me as I fell into my final resting place seemed so tempting.

My pondering brought to my mind the idea of an underwater end, noises muffled as they faded away, not having to do anything, not breathe, not think.

I only needed to succumb.

I only needed to carry it out.

I smile softly at the thought.

No more complications.

No more worries.

I could be with Ken, and he would tell me everything.

I could haunt Dream, making sure that he found someone else, lived his life the way I felt I was the only one who could see he deserved to.

I feel the blonde shift beside me, leaning more comfortably against the wall and bring his hand up to run through my hair.

I was brought back down to earth.

Was I just thinking about committing?

Was it bad that I still, in my time of realization, still felt drawn to the idea?

Was it dangerous, the fact that I saw everything around me as a way to end it all?

The curtains to suffocate myself.

The fan to hang myself from.

Food, to reject and starve.

Water, to drown or deprive myself of.

I shuffled closer to Clay, sitting in his lap now and burrying my face into his shoulder, closing me eyes tight against the thoughts in my head that seemed to cackle at my distress as they shouted out more plans for me to attempt to reject.

"What's wrong?" Dream asks, his hand never leaving my hair. His breathing calmer than what I could never imagine my own could manage.

"Please, i need a distraction." I say, panting heavily in his ear, feeling his arms wrap tighter around my waist in response.

"Please, could you tell me a story?" I ask.

"Uhm, well..." the blonde speaks, lifting his o arm from around my waist to run his hand through his hair that glowed in the moonlight, his voice unsure.

"I'm, like, the worse at stories..." I sigh, disappointed. "But I'll try my best... for you."

I burry my face impossibly further into the cloth of his hoodie to hide my blush from no one in particular.

"Uh.... well, there was once a... boy... actually a prince..." I smile, opening my eyes slightly, glad that I had a boyfriend that was this willing.

"The prince was about to become kind but... uh... his kingdom was... in a famine. And so the people killed the prince's little brother.: I giggle at the morbid turn to the story.

"And so the prince who was about to become king went to his chemist and asked him to create a food that was utterly delicious and that he could recreate easily so that it would be near impossible for the kingdom to run out." I could tell he was getting into the mood of telling the story of whatever his imagination created.

"It was a golden cookie thing."

"They're called crackers."

"The-" he takes a deep breath, deciding not to argue with me. "A golden cookie cracker, yeah?"

I laugh at his stupidity, but nod, allowing the change.

"Okay, so the kingdom became addicted to these things , even the prince who had become king in this time, and so the king then decided to horde all the golden cooke crackers in his castle. So the people massacred the castle, trying to get the food and deciding to kill everyone they came across, which just so happened to include the chemist who was the only who knew how to make the golden cookie crackers.

"SO now, they weren't able to make the golden cookie crackers and the kingdom all died to a replay of the Damien. Then, a couple years later, a man journeyed to the ruin of their kingdom and found a small piece of-" Dream's voice faded out into nonexistence as I fell asleep, feeling him lift me up and take me to my bed a little while later, spooning me as his breaths steadied to match my slow pace.

Alright, I got one out!

WOOO!

Okay, so I'm not sure how fast updates will be this weekend as I am busy.

But, as always, I'll update as quickly as I possibly accent.

I love you all.

Youre my friends!

1093 words