...
Why...
Why can't I do anything?
I just- everyday I'm tired, I can't do anything without passing out.
No matter how much I've slept, I'm still tired.
And it only seems to get worse.
I feel like I'm worrying my mothers out too much, I know I always did... they took me in while they were both struggling, it was pretty rough... but we made it.
That made me learn one thing: Others have it worse than you, so don't say a word.
After all, this is just a little bit of moss. I'll be fine...
...if it stops growing.
But there's a problem... it hasn't.
It only seems to grow more... so much so I've started coughing it up...
It's going to kill me, isn't it?
...
I don't mind, one less burden my parents have to deal with.
Maybe I shouldn't have acted so much like someone one of them talks about... the one who trapped her in my old home...
Wait.
If I don't give myself anything, then the moss won't get it either... it'll srivel up and die, whilst I'd survive...
...
No, no, that's nonsenscial.
Guess I'll just live as long as I have to before the moss kills me... yay...
YOU ARE READING
Ask/Dare my Find the Markers shipkids!
Randomone half of them: *has a terminal illness* *faking posivity* *all of their siblings are dead* the other half: *silly* *neurodiverse* *must be protected at all costs*
