Fan

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You were up in your room,sketching out some characters.

You were a huge fan of Markiplier,you had a few t-shirts and a tiny box tim plushie. You drew fanart of him and his egos,specifically his egos.

You weren't sure why,but it was something about his egos that just made you love him more.

You always wanted to know what it was like in L.A...but you doubt your parents would let you go when you were old enough to move out.

You were their emotional punching bag,whether they came home angry or they were just flat out drunk.

Either way,you would wake up with pain all over your body the next morning.

It wasn't just home that was a living hell...it was also at school.

Everyday you would always end up against a locker or come home with a huge bruises and/or cuts on you face and body.

God you hated that middle school.

You sighed and put down your pencil,you were drawing Wilford Warfstache.

You grabbed (whatever you wear to bed) and changed into it and went sleep,another day of hell.

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