Eddsworld Oneshots

I hate you.

Tom took another swig from his flask, making a gagging noise afterward. This was utterly disgusting. He'd probably had an immoderate amount of alcohol already. He had promised his friends that he wouldn't do this anymore, but Tom wasn't the best at keeping his promises. He'd say shit, but he'd never stay true to his word. He figured he'd add that to the list of a thousand things he hated. He groaned, leaning back against the pillow on his bed. He lightly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He figured if he was already doing this, he should keep going. No point in trying to stop now, hm?

He lifted his flask to his lips again, beginning to take another mouthful of the liquid.
Just then, his door opened abruptly, no knocking or anything, which of course Tom opened his eyes to see who had walked in. Oh, joy, his favorite person.

That was sarcasm.

"Thomas? Edd says you have to-.."The Norwegian cut himself off, staring at the eyeless man.
His face had a look of concern for half a second, which then twisted into an annoyed, offended look.
"What the FUCK, Tom?!" He shouted, dropping the laundry basket he was carrying.
Before Tom could act, Tord rushed over to him, snatching the flask from his hands.

Tom growled, quickly sitting up from where he was and reaching out in an attempt to grab the flask away from Tord, but Tord held it away from him.
"Tord- You asshole!! Give that back to me you fuckin' commie!!"

Tord rolled his eyes, tipping the flask to the side and letting the rest of the contents spill out onto the floor.

Tom gasped a bit, staring at the alcohol spilling onto the floor.
"What- No!! What the fuck!! That was the last of that alcohol that I had!!" He then stared up at Tord.
"That cost me so fucking much!! I'm going to literally destroy you, Tord!!"
He was so angry. Tord always did shit like this, whether what he was doing was dangerous or not. Thanks to Tord, a stuffed animal he'd had since he was a child was ripped to shreds. Despite it being completely ruined, Tom kept it. It was a comfort for him, and he needed something, anything, to be there for him when he was felling like shit. Even if it was a torn up teddy bear.

Tord huffed.
"Alright Tom, this is annoying. What the fuck are you doing, huh?" He dropped the flask on the floor and took Tom by the collar, yanking him up from his bed, making Tom choke slightly in surprise.
"What the fuck is this about? You promised you wouldn't do this, Tom! You promised Edd and Matt. How would they feel if they found out you lied to them like this? They're worried about you, Tom!!" He began telling Tom off in a very harsh manner.

Tom's anger began to drain away at the mention of his friends. That sort of thing stung. Tord was right, they were worried. He'd deliberately lied to them. It's just, When you're an alcoholic, it's sort of hard to stop drinking suddenly. But his friends weren't the brightest, and they'd never had any experience with this sort of thing, of course they wouldn't understand.
Tord was much, much smarter than them, though. He knew Tom couldn't just quit on command, but that didn't stop the brute from tormenting Tom like this. Tord found it fun. He could mess with Tom's mind whenever he wanted.

"I-.. I know they're worried about me, it's just-,"

"Hard." Tord finished Tom's sentence for him.
"It's fucking hard. Is that what you were going to say, Thomas?" He asked in a taunting tone of voice.

"I-.. I mean.. Yeah.. It is hard.." Tom frowned. He felt intimidated, he felt as if he was just being a wuss. What if it really wasn't that hard to stop?
No, it was hard. It was hard to put the bottle down after you've seen it and picked it up. You'd shake, you'd get clammy hands, you'd press the bottle to your lips to drink it, even if you didn't want to. You'd need help. It isn't so easy to stop by yourself.

Tord knew this! He knew this. He just loved breaking him down. It was satisfying for him to see his rival, broken down and weak, powerless, because of him. It was satisfying for him to see Tom cry. It was satisfying to see him scared.

"It's not. You're just being selfish." Tord's grip on Tom's collar tightened, making Tom whimper in fear. He knew what was coming. He shut his eyes tightly, bracing himself for some sort of impact.

Tord's angered expression died away into an amused looking one. He shoved Tom back onto the bed.
"Pft. Pathetic. Look at you, about to cry." Tom shook his head, the sick grin on Tord's face staying.

Tom let out a whine, hugging onto himself tightly. Everything felt wrong. Tears began to flood down his cheeks, and he even began to let out choked sobs.
"I-I just-.. I just want to stop feeling like this..!!" He cried, trying to wipe away his tears. He felt weak. He probably was weak.

Tord raised an eyebrow, his smirk staying.
"Mm, I don't think that's your choice," He leaned in close to Tom's face to make everything all the more intimidating, and hopefully make Tom cry more.
"Is it, Tom..?"

Tom felt another wave of sadness wash over the already current state of sadness he was in. No, it wasn't his choice. No, he couldn't do anything about it unless he got help, which was all too scary for him to do in the first place, so that wasn't going to happen; And no way in hell was he going to talk to his friends about it. Not after this conversation with Tord. They'd hate him. They'd hate him for not being strong enough to stop. They'd hate him for lying to them. He wouldn't blame them for hating him, there was so much about him to hate. He just didn't want them to hate him. They were the only family he had, the only friends he had. If they started hating him like Tord did, he'd have nothing. He'd be alone in this world.

"Nnn.." He had managed to halt his crying, occasionally taking in sudden sharp breaths. But the distressed look on his face couldn't have been more priceless to Tord. He would have laughed, but Tord found that it would completely ruin the mood.
"No.. It's.. Not my choice.. I know I can't do anything about it.."

"You got drunk again," Tord pointed out.

"I did," Tom replied, gazing up at Tord.

"And, did it fix how you felt?"

"It didn't."

Tord nodded, huffing lightly.
"See, Thomas? You're being stupid." He concluded.
"Nobody wants to help you. If they did, they'd be more concerned about your health and check up on you. And they don't."

Tom nodded a bit. Tord was right. He must be. If they did care, they'd pay more attention. They'd come to see if he was okay, they'd act like they loved him. He looked down and stared at the floor.
His eyes filled up with tears, silently spilling down his cheeks.
"I get why you hate me.. I get it. I get why you yell at me. I know I deserve it." He paused.
"But I hate you too, you know. I hate you with every ounce of my being."

"Whys that?"

"You know why."

"Fine." Tord stepped back, picking up the flask that Tom had been drinking from. He tossed it at Tom and picked up his laundry basket again, setting it by Tom's bed. "Maybe try filling that thing with water for a change. It would do your liver good." He said coldly. Tom didn't answer. There was no point in answering.
"Edd wants you to do your laundry."

Tom only muttered out a, "I gathered that."

Tord smiled gently and walked back to Tom's door to exit, but before exiting, he turned to look at Tom.
"Tom?"

"What."

"Do me a favor. No, do us all a favor, and kill yourself."