Choke my throat, all the way to my mind.

by transchicken

Summary:

Shelly is miserable now.
How will she escape her miserable life.

Notes:

yo sorry this is nawt beta read, no plot made for it, just wrote whatever I wanted, sorry for spelling errors, this is just really a vent for me

Chapter 1

—--------------
Shelly was done.
So numb.
So empty.

So fucking over it.

They treated her like an animal.
Pebble was treated better than her.
Nothing wrong with Pebble, its just nobody was for her.

Constantly forgotten, pushed away, snapped at.

It can only go for so long.
And today.
Was probably the worst.

The voices in her head lingered longer than usual.
The hallucinations, usually left. Yet they seemed so real.

Dandy did not exactly help.
On the other hand, he informed Vee about the news about Shelly, how she aspired to be loved by her!

And she remembers the cold hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing tight.

The cold touch.
The feeling.

And she feels it again.
Her neck is tight, and she can’t breathe.
SHE CANT FUCKING BREATHE.
SHE WAS THERE AGAIN.
Vee’s eyes were full of hatred, and seemed to know exactly what words would strike her, and completely shatter her.

“I feel nothing for you. I never will. Never will care, love, or give a shit for you. You are to me, an ant. A pest. Meaningless. Take the FUCKING HINT.”

Shellys eyes fluttered, and her hands flailed, trying to get Vee to let go.

She eased her arms, and Shelly could breathe slightly, and coughed, Vee looked absolutely disgusted by her.

 

She leaned closer to the sobbing fossil, “I never forgot you.”

The world's shelly had desperately wanted to hear.
Finally,
But in the worst way.

“I never FUCKING forgot you! I just didnt like you, take the hint, your annoying as fuck, ruining everything!”

“I hate you! I always have, Iv’e tried to make it clear by ignoring you. Nobody forgot you, they just didn't like you. They say they forgot so they wouldn't hurt you. I'm sick of it. Fuck off, its better if you weren’t even alive. “

Vee walked away, not a single time turning back, into a dark hallway, while shelly lay on the floor crying.

SHUT UP
She was just in her room!
Shes in her room. It didn’t happen. Nothing happened!

Shelly was in the room!
Not the hallway. Not there. Not where Vee had hurt her.
Vee didn’t fucking hurt her.

VEE FUCKING HATES YOU.
Voices rang in her head, specifically Vee’s, which was currently screaming at her to kill herself.
She whimpered, “Stop, please.”

Nothing was real.

Her mocking words.
Her tone. The cold metal.
SHE WASN’T THERE AGAIN. IT WAS OVER.
IT WAS OVER.
YET IT PLAYED AGAIN AND AGAIN.

More voices joined in, begging for her death and to hurt herself, while she began to curl up on the floor once more.
The floor.
NO SHUT UP. THIS IS HER ROOM.

She dug her arms into her shoulders, as much as she could, and dragged her claws.
Burns.
IT BURNS BURNS BURNS!

She deserved it.
SHUT UP.
MORE.

BURN
It's distracting for her.
From her voice.
MORE
She drags again, sliding her claws into her skin over and over, until parts of her arm are fleshy and open. Little beads of blood welled up, a harsh contrast against her cream colored skin.

And yet its not enough, the stinging in her arms, the warm blood on her, she needed more. It was barely anything.

She had to hurt more.
She had to suffer.
She didn’t deserve to live.

Retrieving herself off the floor, she scanned her shoulders.
They weren’t even dripping with blood.

 

Why not?

She raised her hands, in an effort to make it hurt more and cause more blood loss, and was content when a singular drop of blood hit the floor.

It burned.
Not enough!

She deserved it.

Vee hated her.

Lowering her hands, she collapsed into her bed.

She thought.

Thought heavy and hard.

I hate it. They all hate me.
She says I should die. And then I hurt myself because I deserved it. But what if I can show them that I regret it! What if I show them all my insides and blood and make them forgive me. Would Vee finally care? Would she look with regret and sympathy, holding me in her arms, telling me I’m worthy.

And she was.

Vee was right next to her, cold against her skin once more.
“I love you.”
Shelly began to cry.
Vee was sitting on Shelly’s bed, a hand laid on Shelly.

A large bang on the door made her flinch, and she reached over for Vee.

She was gone.
“Vee?”
“VEE?”
She had come back!
She loved her!
SHUT UP.
It wasn’t real.
Was the strangling real?
Had she deformed her skin for nothing?
Another bang.

She realized somebody was knocking, and she panicked, wiping off blood on her shoulder to her bedsheets, throwing a hoodie on, and opened the door.

Astro, body wrapped in a blanket, weary eye, while his star flickered, looked concerned.
“Shelly.”

Act like you weren’t tearing yourself apart. Act like the burning in your arms isn’t real.
Act normal.
Act!
“HI Astro!”

 

“You do understand my ability to see dreams, correct?”
Where could this be going?
She nodded gently, feeling slightly light headed.
“When you hallucinate, daydream, or sleep, is what I can see.”

She froze.

“It’s alright, I won't tell, but… you need help.”
Lie.
Act ignorant.
“What are you talking about? Hah.” She gritted her teeth.

“I saw your hallucination and meltdown about Vee.”
“Please stay out of my head. It's.. I’m fine!”
“You clearly aren’t.”
“No, it was just a bad dream, and Vee means nothing to me.”

“One of the advantages of the leader of the main toons being friends with you, is that Dandy tells me everything.”

 

She felt cold again.

Silence..

“I know this sounds stupid, but can I have a favor..?”

“Of course.”

“May I have a hug.”

 

Warmth.
He had embraced her, gently, and when Shelly squeezed tighter, he felt safe to respond back.

Tears rolled down her face, and she whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”

He pitied her, and let go, before looking her in the eyes, and stating, “Kill yourself.”

“W-what?”
“Fucking kill yourself, bitchass whore.”
In a blink, he was gone.

She could only sob and sob, lost in confusion on whether anything was real.
It seemed so real.

Chapter 2

Shelly yawned, very confused, and turned around to observe her suroundijgs.

Oh.

Blood stains barely leaked through her jacket, and she stretched, the morning sun warming her skin,

Stretching was painful, and she felt the weak scabs splinter open, sharp pains stabbing her and warm blood forming once more.

 

Was Astro really there that night?
She considered the painful thought.
No.
That's good.

It was quite hazy, she knew that Vee wasn’t real.
Oh but, did she really strangle her?
Tell her all that?

Such a blur.

She feels nausea in her stomach, and remembered that the last time she ate was a while ago. Actually, she can’t really remember what she ate or when. Just that it was fair away.

She stood up from the hard floor, which she had fallen asleep on last night, blinking away the sleepiness.

Rubbing her eyes, she glanced in a mirror, sharply looking away right after, clear discontent.

Disgusting.
She couldn’t brush her teeth.
Or take a shower.
Or eat.

She didn’t really want to do anything, except rot away in a pool of blood.

Her head was pulsing, beats of pain hit her, and her mouth was dry.
Water…

Similar to food, she couldn’t remember the last time she drank any liquid.

She stumbled to her bed, collapsing, feeling like her insides hated her as much as she hated her outsides.

The burning sickness in her stomach grew, and yet she was confused, the feeling that she was going to vomit was overwhelming.

She leaned over her bed, and her throat seemed to be on fire, and vomited.

Not any food.
Just orange yellow sickly stomach acid.

It left her mouth taste disgusting, but she couldn’t get up to brush her teeth, now her room reeked like vomit, there was a mess, and she knew she couldn’t do anything about it.

The claw marks on her arms reminded her.

Of the control.
Last night was a breakdown, if she remembered right.
Today she felt quite more stable, but on the flipside, way more depressed.

The screaming voices and visions were gone, replaced with a lasting dread.

So empty.
So numb.

Vee had strangled her.
Told her the truth.
She really was horrible, Shelly deserved to suffer.

She inspected her claws, and saw bits of dried blood under them, and ran them across her skin.

She remembered the feeling.

The need.

The urge.

 

Shut up.

She wiped her mouth, rubbing off excess vomit onto her clothes, and wondered how the hell could she ever fucking fix this.

She had really no desire for anything really.
Just to stop suffering.
Just a small step.

Reaching outwards to the floor, a half empty water bottle was opened, narrowly missing her vomit puddle, before she knew it was empty completely.

More.

But there wasn’t.

And the only food available, for morning at least, was to see Sprout and Cosmo.

Get up.

Get up.

Why can’t I move?
Why am I powerless?
Kill yourself already.
Please.
Please.

She blinked hard, trying to avoid another breakdown.

It's fine.
I'm okay.
Get up.

She needed things.
Simple things.
Food.
Water.
Hygiene.

The word food frightened her, for these past months her starvation grew worse and worse, numbers on the scale dropped, and yet she couldn’t handle the lasting hunger, and always seemed to fuck up over and over to binge eat like a fatass.

The hunger was too horrible.
She needed food.

But first she needed to clean herself up.

The jacket pressed against her wounds, making them itch uncomfortably , and she took it off.
Blood.
Not that interesting.
Up.
She got up.

Brush your fucking teeth,
Please.
And she couldn’t
Pathetic.

Hovering over her counter, she saw her dinosaur toothbrush and unused tube of toothpaste.

It was always full.

Just wipe off the grime off your face.
She couldn’t.

Oh.

But her tear marks.

So she had to, fear of toons knowing was her only motivation, she dragged a damp cloth across her entire face.

Her cuts were exposed in her normal work outfit, so she decided to simply wear a long sleeve under her outfit, and while it made her SUFFER.
It worked.
The tightness of it, the way it touched her skin, she wanted to break down.
No. Not again!
She took another step forward, and then realized she was about to step in the vomit.

She looked down, disgust and hatred growing in her.

Just clean it up.

She simply threw a towel over it, ignoring the fact itd still smell horrible and be sticky when she came back but FUCK OFF thats for later of course!
She rinsed her hands, making sure no blood was left behind.

She was used to her smell, but if she could guess, it'd probably be disgusting. The last time she showered was about a week.

She remembers Dandy’s mocking words.
Astro’s guiding comments.
Vee’s disgust.

Shut up.
SHUT Up.

 

She turned the doorknob of her room, ready to step out but she couldn't.

It was too much.
They all hated her.
They all wanted her dead.
She couldn't.

GO THROUGH THE GOD DAMN DOOR YOU WHORE.

Her body tensed, and she forced herself awkwardly out, feeling embarrassed how dirty her room was in comparison to the clean halls of the Toon’s dormitory, kept well by Tisha.

Tisha would probably be grossed out by the sight of Shelly’s room.
She was kind, yet it felt so false.
Like she hated her.

They all did.

Every nice thing said was a lie.
She knew nobody actually enjoyed being with her a single second, she knew every one of them wished she was dead just as much as she did, she knew everyone hated her.

Just walk.
She closed her door, walking towards the Toon cafeteria, where more waves of anxiety hit her, as she peered inside, they socialized.

How.

She could never talk right.
Words would stumble and come out wrong.

They didn’t like her.

Cosmo caught sight of her.
Shit.
He beckoned her into the room, with a wave of his hand, and she felt hatred grow.

They are pretending.
Why can’t they spit out the truth?
Just say you hate me.

And she walked in.

Notes:

this was og meant to be a one shot but I think I'm just gonna write on this when I'm feeling shitty
har har har

the ao3 curse is real I lost my gf
my hair is tangled
I havent brushed my teeth in 4 days
haven't showered in 3

or maybe that's my fault
nope
ao3 curse!!

Chapter 3

As soon as she stepped in the cafeteria, she felt so outclassed.

Everyone was well maintained.

Clean brushed teeth, showered daily, perfect lives.
Could enjoy eating.
Could enjoy things.

The genuine laughter, smiles, eyes shining, the purpose the rest of the toon’s had.
She didn’t deserve to be a main.

They never understood her struggle.

They never understood her.
Or saw her.
Just simply ignored her.

She felt extremely filthy next to all these “perfect toons.”

Majority of toons were chatting next to each other, eating, or helping wash the dishes for cosmo or sprout.

So hungry.

Somebody was near her.
Walk a different way.

Her brain was on autopilot.
Ignoring the bickering duo of Shrimpo and Fin, or Rodgers scolding towards Toodles on wiping her food on her dress.

Too alone.
Nobody.

Everybody was around her, but nobody felt real.
All too happy, all too fake.

Shelly could only stare at the floor, head down, hoping not to draw attention, for fear of judgement.
Yet she also wishes she did have attention, she would beg for anything to be recognized, to be helped, somebody to see her.
For who she was.

Stuck in her head.

She didn’t realize she was on the floor until a sharp pain hit her elbow, and she realized she had crashed into Vee.

A look of disgust grew on Vee’s face, clearly offended by her clumsiness, and told her to promptly, “Fuck off.”

 

Fuck off.
Words echoed in her head.

She murmured sorry, legs beginning to wobble.

She felt everyone’s eyes.

Everyone saw.

Vee hates her.
She wanted her dead.

Everyone wanted her dead.
The voices in her head screeched.

All alone!

All alone to whimper and die,
Sob and cry!
They hate me, everyone!
God im so fucking DONE.

She recited verses in her head, a method she used to try and calm her brain into sorted thoughts.

Which currently, which she sorted, shame, guilt, embarrassment.

She was horrible.
They all saw.
Everyone.
Everyone.
Crawl away and hide.
They would never forget.

She ran to the serving area, her heart thumping loud and she felt her mind racing.

Hurry.
Hurry.
Hurry.
Don't let them see.
Don’t.
They all would hate her.

But parts of her wanted them to see.
To pity her.
To remember her and care.
THEY WOULD NEVER.
SO HIDE AND HIDE.

Astro was ahead, ordering his food, while Cosmo nodded and told Sprout which dish to prepare, he drummed his fingers on the counter, waiting.

He looked, slightly concerned, as she felt his stare.

He hurt me.
He hated me.
He lied.

It was a lie.
No, it wasn’t true.

With a soft expression, he turned over to Shelly, and offered a hand, “Hey shelly. You alright?”

Alright.

He told her to die.
Die.
Suffer
Please.

Her head screamed and screamed, while Astro seemed still, as if he were trying to read her. He tilted his head sideways, his hat bobbled slightly, and one of his arms poked through his blanket, reaching toward her shoulder in order to reassure her.

She flinched, eyes lighting up with anger, “You don’t care!” She screamed.

No.
Fuck.

All eyes.
Everything.

Shadows.

The world seemed to flicker, alternating between the toon’s she knew and just black silhouettes, and whispers.

Astro seemed disappointed.

 

Oh?

She stepped back, overwhelmed with guilt, “I’m sorry Astro, I didn’t mean t-”

His expression turns more worrisome, mixed with puzzled, “For what?”

“For screaming at you.”

“Hm? You were silent the whole time.”

“Oh.”

“Shelly, are you alright?”

Her scars burned.
Her stomach was crying for food.
Head was killing her.
Her entire body grew weaker by the days.

“Yeah, sorry I just got confused!” she said, smiling awkwardly, before turning around to avoid more conversation with him.

She smiled.
Smiled.
She had shown her teeth.
Disgustingly unbrushed.
How filthy.
Astro would hate her.

Astro seemed to have more questions, but in her luck, he remained silent, not willing to press her and possibly stress her out even more.

It felt like forever for Astro to take his fucking food and leave.

Why’d he lie?

Everyone saw it happen.

It didn’t happen.

Again.

 

She felt ashamed, and dug her claws into her sleeves, but Cosmo had called her name, distracting her.

“Hey Shelly!” He smiled.

She nodded in response, she couldn’t talk for some reason.

The words would not come out, she felt trapped.
She CANT TALK.
What the hell.

“So, what would you look to order? Me and sprout worked on a new desert, and I feel like you would especially love it.”

Me?
Especially.

Her cheeks flushed, feeling her body get heavier.
Her body.

Fucking fatass.
That's all she was.

And cosmo, of all people?
He was the kindest.
Vee was right.

OF course I would love the desert.
I'M JUST A FATASS.

She stayed silent.

Cosmo was confused, then eyes widened with regret, “OH, no no no, not like that I swear! Its dinosaur art pancakes with whipped cream shaped into a fossil bone! I’m so sorry!”

Ah.
Sure.
No it was a mistake, hush you bitchy brain.

For the first time, she was a little content.
A simplistic T-rex was made by using different colored pancake mix, it was green and pink, and it made her genuinely smile. On top of it, was whipped cream, shaped into a bone, with green sprinkles.

“We made it for a kid who liked dinosaurs, yet err.. He was allergic to milk in our pancakes and we didn’t quite realize,” he muttered, fiddling with his hands, “so we had extra, and I figured you would enjoy this!”

She grabbed the dish, forcing the words out, so difficult, yet Cosmo had deserved it.
“Thank you.”

She eyed the food, mouth watering, and yet the calories is what she counted in her head, her weight, calculations in order to decipher if she could eat it or not.

She sat isolated, away from the rest of the toons, in a small table for two, she planted herself down, and kept staring at her food.

So hungry.
Eat it.
What if they were watching?
What if they saw her eat?
It looked appetizing at first, but the more she looked, the more she couldn’t tolerate looking at the meal.
FUCKING EAT IT.
COSMO WAS NICE, BUT THE CALORIES.
BUT SHE WAS SO HUNGRY.

She grabbed a spoon, cold and metal.

Cold and metal.

Vee.

She closed her eyes.

Tightness around her throat, harsh words screaming, and the memory of cold metal touch.
She gripped the spoon harder, before shoveling a spoonful of pancake.

She hated herself for enjoying it.
She hated herself for wanting to eat it all.
She hated herself for being so fucking fat.

She felt the desire to vomit even worse, just from the food and self hatred.
The food was well, it was her head though.

It screamed fat and hating words, which led to her eyes watering.

Just eat it in your room.
Nobody will notice.
Nobody can see you.

 

She abruptly lifted her dish, and walked out the cafeteria feeling worse than ever.

She headed toward her room, feeling like a pig.

Just eat, bitch.

Notes:

ed Shelly or what???
she had body dysmoprhia tooo hehehe
shes actually like really fucking thin its just that she sees herself fat n stuff.

Chapter 4

There were no crumbs left on the plate.

Disgust.
Shelly had eaten all of it.
All.

She swore she would limit herself, portion it, ration it, starve herself.
Control herself.
It was so pathetic that she couldn’t even stop herself.
She had only meant to eat a third.

Fucking disgusting.

She decided she needed to do better, scolding herself and bit hard onto her arm, leaving a red impression.
Don’t do this shit again.
Be better.
Stop being a filthy pig.

Grabbing a notebook and pen, she scribbled down her calorie count, and her calorie goals, her desired weight.
Worriedly, she wondered how much she gained this time.
She moved a scale to herself, stepping on it, eagerly waiting to see the numbers.
Too high.
Too much.

 

She smashed the plate across her wall.

It splintered into fragments, leaving shattered pieces on the floor and across her room.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK.”

Shut up.
She did this again.

Too tired to clean.

88 pounds.

So far away from 70.

Disappointment.
She remembered a time before it had all started, a time far away when she used to be genuinely happy, or somewhat sane. She was younger, quite chubby, about 110 pounds. She often ate a lot, not minding food. She enjoyed it actually, and when she had a rough day, it was always there for her. The average weight for a toon based on height and weight varied, but she remembered Dandy’s harsh words, exclaiming that her weight should be 95 at most. It had started.

The crude comments, making her being remembered, yet only to be hurt. So she went with them, she ate less. At first it seemed healthy, her body was actually working better, but it hurt her head. She felt disgusted with her body constantly.

She hit 90, Dandy stopped.
But in her head, nobody did.
The voices never left.
The memories never left.
She's scarred, permanently discontent with her weight, obsessed to be less and less.
To be beautiful.
So what if everyday you wake up dizzy? You feel so weak!
You feel like you wanna faint? It’ll be worth it.

She remembers one of glisten’s outbursts about beauty being pain.

She scheduled herself no more than 1000 calories a day, no more than two meals.

But the plan was 500, one meal, the previous was just a backup.

Now her she was, fucking gaining two pounds from being unable to control herself.
She needed to punish herself for this.
Maybe next time she would follow her rules.

Shelly needed to hurt herself, to remind herself she deserved every ache and every drop of blood from her, that she was horrible. The pain for being this way. Shelly stared at the glass pieces on the floor.

Do it.
Do it.

Voices in her head argued again, screaming.
She heard Dandy.
His unwavering smile, which did not fit the comments and insults he threw at her constantly, wearing her down until she was nothing.

She always was nothing though.

Vee would want her to hurt.
Vee wants her to suffer.
Vee wants her dead.

Shelly wanted to please Vee.
And Dandy.
And herself.

And so with sick satisfaction, she slipped off her laced white socks, exposing her beige lower paws.
She braced herself, and-

Hesitated.

She didn’t want to hurt.
She hated it.
She's sick of hating herself.
I'm so tired.

But she deserved it, she kept herself this way.
She trapped herself, her own cage, she threw away her own key, she locked herself this way, and now she would never escape.

 

She ignored her doubts, taking a step forward and a deep breath, letting the shards touch her bare body.

Sparks of pain sent signals to her head, and she felt bits of glass get embedded in her foot, a sharp agonizing pain.

She held her breath, stopping her from exclaiming from pain.

Suffering.
What she deserved.
Don't cry.
Don’t cry.
If you sob your weak and have to do it once more.

Yet, a tear traced her cheek, and she gritted her teeth, before stamping her feet, letting the shards stab her over and over again and again, the painful sensation was energizing, she felt alive.
Truly alive.

It burned and burned and stung and stung!

Oh, yet how wonderful!

Part of her hated every moment of it, and yet another was happy and content.

Her paws felt warm, blood pooling under them.
She stood still.

Tired again.
Regret.
Burning sensation.

Clean it up, before anyone sees.

Shelly grabbed a broom and dustpan, each step unbearable, yet so refreshing and brought life into her.

It's her fault though.

Her feet were screaming, each step left a small trace of blood on the floor, while she sweeped away the shards into one puddle, mixed with a bloody mess.
She did her best to collect them all, then dump them in her trash can.

She sighed, walking to her restroom and turning on her bath faucet.
Fix this fucking shit. The water was cold, hitting warm blood, and Shelly could only grimace, getting tweezers to pluck out shards of glass on her paws, tiny fragments stuck and hard to see.

The water ran slightly red, and she dropped the glass down the drain, not caring much.
Her problem for later of course, but when did that ever seem to matter?

After thirty minutes of labor, her paws were raw and bloodied, yet glass was gone.

She missed the feeling of it though, cold bits embedded into her, each step horrible.
Of course, each step still burned like wildfire, yet not as much.

She put a washcloth on her feet, applied pressure, and then sprayed neosporin all over, before slipping on socks and hurrying to her bed, laying back up, so her paws faced upwards, causing less blood to stain her room.

Not that it would do much.
Fuck she was stupid.
She uses her goddamn FEET to walk.

It's her fault though.
She’ll make sure to lose more weight soon.
She needs to.

Her eyes felt heavy, and she let them close.

Notes:

ao3 curse fr fr

ok this chapter isn't a vent
I just wanted to write Shelly with ed

I'm chilling rn
does Shelly have paws or feet or nubs?
uhm.
well nubs but also feet but paws
idfk
it switches
I picture them as nubs but that's weird so feet but their toons so that's weird but paws are fuzzy idfk
so its like feet paws
leave me alone!!!
idk what to do

I also really enjoyed the concept of stepping on broken glass, it seemed quite unique and was fun to write.

Chapter 5

She doesn’t need anyone
She doesn’t love anyone.
They all hated her.
She hated them back.

She doesn’t need anyone.

Shelly can handle being alone.
She repeats that over and over.

The ammonite was currently seated at the edge of her bed, wondering how the hell these would heal and how much trouble they would cause.

Nothing.
Nobody would notice.
She didn’t need anyone to notice.
But of course that was never true, to be held, to be loved, to be hers.

Never.
And it hurts. Burns. The hatred is the salt in the wound.

Then constantly ignored. Or straight up forgotten. She wanted more than anything, to be loved.

I hate everyone.
I hate everyone.

If I hate them all, then they can’t hurt me.
If I hate them all, I don't need anyone to love me.

Fuck all of them.

And with that, her paws were on the floor,

“FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!”

She screamed, feeling the gentle scabs rip open, spewing blood once more.

Shit, she needed help.
Fuck no. She didn’t need anyone. Ever.

She heard footsteps near her room.

Each step.

Hurry.
Lock the door.

Ignoring the agony, she twisted the lock, and sat down at the side of her door.

“Who’s in here?” somebody's voice spoke, concerned.

If they knew it was me, they wouldn’t care.
If they cared, maybe they would remember this is my room.
I don’t need their help.
I need myself and myself only, fuck all the rest of them.

She could fix up her paws, without anyone else interfering or ruining her more.

She doesn’t trust anyone now.

The door knocked louder.
“Fuck off.”
Knock.
Knock.
Bang.
They started slamming on the door, begging for them to let them in.
She could hear the genuine fear in their voice, the quiver.
The shake of sobs hitting them.

“FUCK OFF.”

“YOU DONT EVEN FUCKING CARE. FUCK OFF. I DON'T NEED ANYONE, AND I NEVER DID.”

Silence.
For minutes and minutes.

Until about an hour passed.
And then she realized it wasn’t real.

She felt numb.
So hungry.
Shut up fatass.

She couldn’t come out. She could barely walk without leaving blood behind, and unbearable pain each step.

She decided it was a test, she didn’t need anyone.
She rested her head on the floor.
She wasn’t sure.
But in the end, Shelly decided that she would stay in her room completely until they at least partially healed, and she could walk on them.

Notes:

sorry for short chapter
not doing too well tbh

Chapter 6

Notes:

Sorry it’s been quite a while!
I have been struggling with my mental health.
Working on recovery right now and moving on from things.

Remember to stay clean!
PS IM SO SORRY THIS CHAPTER IS SHORT I HAVE NOT WROTE IN A WHILE

It’s been days since anyone has seen Shelly at all.

The most toon interaction she has had at all, was Tisha requesting to come in to do her room maintenance, since it was her job to clean all the mains rooms once in a while, she just brushed Tisha away.

Along with a few harsh words from Dandy.

She often checked the soles of her feet, and finally they were scabbed entirely, and she could step without agonizing pain, now only an extreme itch and stinging when she pressed too hard when walking.

She had gotten… quite hungry.
And of course she couldn’t go out.

She couldn’t starve herself this time and she hated herself, she felt so drawn to the food.
The food, in fact was rotting and molding.

No taste, just fuzzy.

She just had to eat.
So filthy..

She purged after.

Her days confined in her room were just her sleeping or lying awake at bed.
She couldn’t cut, her blades went dull not too long ago.

She wants to escape.
She needs to escape.
She doesn’t know how though.
Anyone
Anybody.
Something.
Help her please.
PLEASE.

It’s been too long in here.
It took shelly another two hours of laying down to muster the energy to get up and get ready actually to get out.
She discovered tiptoeing wasn’t painful.

Her room disgusted her.
She didn’t want to go out feeling so gross.
But she couldn’t do anything.
When was the last time she showered?
Brushed her teeth?
Washed her face?
Cleaned her room?

She couldn’t handle to look at her messes anymore.
The foul smell of vomit she never cleaned up, the stains of blood, the rotting food.

It’s too much for her.
She wanders to her bathroom,
The toilet is stained disgustingly, along with her sink. Mold was around the edges of everywhere in there.

It smelled rotten.

Just.. take a shower.
Please.
Please.

AND SHE Fucking COULDNT.
WHY IS SHE SO WEAK
WHY SO PATHETIC.

SHE CANT LIKE THIS.
SHE DOESNT WANT TO LIVE.
She starts sobbing again.

She hears footsteps pattering outside her room.

Chapter 7

Summary:

hey guys its been a bit whoops

shes all out of food
everything's gone
besides the... inedible food

shes so dizzy
why is she still fat?

its been hours since the knocks

shes sick of the foul smell

rotting food, vomit, her own filth

 

she creaks the door open, checking once more, no toon could see her.

and she was sure!
until she took a step out and tisha strolled down the hall

fuck.
fuck fuck fuck.

she slammed the door shut without thinking, her hand still in the frame, and she exclaimed a squeal of pain.
"Shelly?"

fuck fuck fuck

everythings going to fall apart.

maybe she isn't real
maybe

before she pulls her hand out and locks it, Tisha pries the door open

to a sight of a disgusting Shelly for sure

she shuts down

Shelly cant speak or say anything

the scars on her are so obvious
the blood stains
the vomit on her floor
the rotting food

 

"Shelly?"

 

she only stands there
she cant do anything

"SHELLY!"

oh god
why cant she say anything

Tisha grabs her arms, examining them
"are... you okay?"

 

nothing
no response
shes shutting down fully

she starts to sob
how pathetic she should just kill herself

 

"i'ill get help- just
uhm stay here- well are you.."

"safe?"

shelly croaked.

"i'm okay. don't worry. leave me be"

 

"come with me, sprout can fix you up"

"no.."

"please no."

"I don't want anyone seeing me."

"PLEASE."

She starts rambling incoherently, sobbing harder, her words impossible to decipher.

"its okay. we can figure something out.. but your arms need attention"

she shakes her head.

"can I sit with you Shelly?"

she nods

the two sit on her bed

it has crumbs on it, stains, and Shelly notices Tisha brushing off some of them.
"can we talk about it" she asks

she shakes her head once more

Tisha stands, and starts cleaning up for her.