Will Everything Be Ok?

by Seeing_Spiderz

Summary:

Sunny had left to his new city after telling everyone the truth of that night, leaving Basil alone with the consequences of his actions again. What is he meant to do now?

Will Aubrey bully him again?
Will Hero even look at him the same way again?
Will Kel ever forgive them?
Will he ever talk to Sunny again?

Will everything be ok?

Chapter 1: Fresh out the Hospital

Summary:

CHAPTER UPDATED: 8/22/25

(BASIL POV)

 

Wednesday, June 27th, 2003

 

It had been 1 week and 5 days since the whole incident with Sunny. I lay in my hospital bed thinking everything over. God, I feel so terrible about his eye. I mean- I didn't completely gouge it out, but the puncture was enough that they had to amputate it. It's called an Encleation, I learned. I vaguely remembered seeing a surgery video on some medical channel a while ago of that. I hope it doesn't cause him too much trouble. Maybe it'll make him seem mysterious and cool at his new school? Probably not...God, even though I apologized like 100 times, and he said it was ok, I still feel awful over it. Speaking of feeling awful about my actions, how am I meant to face any of the old group now? Hopefully, I don't see them.

I'm getting finally dismissed later today. It's felt like years. They had to put me on a 5150 (72-hour psychiatric hold). Half because of the stab wound I created in my small intestine after I stabbed Sunny's eye, and half because they saw my self-harm scars. And then kept me for even longer in the psych unit of our hospital as well. They also needed to monitor me after the surgery. God, I'm just a mess of things, huh? I didn't even know we HAD a psych unit...I guess that explains why we have such a big hospital for such a small town. Polly's putting me in therapy because of all this...Maybe it'll be for the best?

(4 hours later)

Polly came to pick me up. I hope she doesn't try to talk to me about much of anything regarding my mental health. I don't have the energy for that right now...or maybe much of anything. It's honestly ironic how screwed up I am, given Grandma is- *was* a therapist.

"Your parents called." I get snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of Polly's voice as she's driving. I look at her. "What?" "Your parents called, and I had to tell them about everything that happened. They offered to pay for your therapy, so that's good." "Oh..." I say, not really knowing how to respond. I'm not surprised they offered to pay; they seem to try to support me financially a lot. Sometimes I wonder if it's because they feel bad about not being here. Is that wrong? "I'm sorry they weren't able to visit you while you were in the hospital, but they'll be visiting this weekend for your grandmother's funeral." Her last words stung. With everything else going on, it's somehow been both the only and last thing on my mind. I just nod. I can cry once I get home. "I know it's hard, sweetie, if you want, I'll take care of the plants for a little while, Ok?" Polly said more as a statement than an actual question. "Ok..." It's good that she's taking care of my plants; I can barely find the energy to do it as of late, and especially not now.

We pulled in front of the house, and Polly helped me out of the car. I thank her and quickly go to my room. I really just want to be alone right now. I plop onto my bed, I glance around, and I see a pair of shears in the distance. Not today. I sigh and close my eyes. Before I know it, I'm crying again.

Notes:

Yay!! Finished the first chapter!! I'm a maladaptive daydreamer, and this is my "au" or "world" I created and basically live in for the past year or something. This was a little self indugent ngl. I tried my best to get into Basil's character. It's a little hard to write for Polly since she doesn't have much dialogue in-game.

 

HUGE Thank You to the people on Tumblr who hyped me up to write this!!! Especially (Shout Out) @npcdraws on Tumblr!! Hope you read this <3

Chapter 2: The Park

Summary:

‼️🩸 SH TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER 🩸‼️

Our first Aubrey POV <3 (even tho it was for like 1 paragraph lmao)

 

(AUBREY POV)

Friday, June 29th, 2003

 

I needed to clear my head. My "mother" just got finished screaming at me for some stupid shit again. I was barely listening, not like any of it mattered. Thank god Kim was free, I needed to get out of that house. We met up at the secret hangout spot. "Hey." "Sup". We greeted as we walked up to each other. "Can we go to Othermart? Vance ate like all my candy while I was gone yesterday...that fucking.." Kim starts to mumble random insults. "Yeah, sure, if you stop bitching about it. I'll pay," I said affectionately as her eyes lit up. We make our way through the trees and out into the park, and eventually to Othermart. Kim gets all kinds of candy. I smirk, "You're really trying to suck me dry, huh?" "shut up, you said you'd pay..." she said mildly embarrassed.

As we left the store, I could've sworn I saw- Y'know what? It doesn't matter. I don't need to think about him. Not after....
While we were walking back to our hangout spot, I saw that blonde bastard somewhere in the park. Kim noticed him too. "Hey...Aub...wanna push him around or somethin'?" she suggested, already eating the candy. I sigh. "No, it's not worth it. Let's just...ignore him." I started walking faster.

 

(BASIL POV)

Friday, June 29th, 2003

🩸‼️ TW: SELF H@RM ‼️🩸

It's the day before Grandma's funeral. My parents should be here by evening, around 5 pm or 6 pm. That gives me about 4-5 hours until they arrive.
Honestly, I'm nervous for their visit. I mean- it's not like anything all that bad has ever happened when they visited other times, well, except for maybe that one time when I had that panic attack...and every time I've been to their house...oh, and that other time where dad made me cry at Othermart. Whatever, most of those weren't their fault anyway. I should try to look at the bright side, I'm finally seeing them again! It's been at least 6 months. Who am I kidding? It's been longer. Either way, they're visiting for the weekend, even if it is for a funeral, it's still nice, right? "Wish I looked at the bright side before.." I mumbled to myself and looked at my wrist. Crap, it's bleeding. I get up from my floor and look in my dresser for Band-Aids. Then my desk...then the bathroom. Of course, we're out. It's fine, I have time. I pull down my sleeve. I sigh and walk downstairs. I see Polly.

"Oh..Hi." I greet her. "Hi Basil." Polly smiles warmly at me. I forced a smile. "Uhm...I need to..Can I go get a soda from Othermart?" I stutter out. To my luck, Polly says yes. I quickly leave for Othermart, the bleeding cut is most likely dirty. I hope none of it got onto my sleeve. It'd be awkward if somebody noticed.

I saw Aubrey and Kim at Othermart. I'm pretty sure they didn't see me...I hope it stays that way. I haven't heard from anyone since Sunny told everyone about what we did. Fair enough, I suppose. I hope they don't come up to me. Either way, I need somewhere to sit. I decided to just stop by the park; it's the only place I can think of with seating at the moment.
That's it, that's all I'll do. I'll sit down, put my band-aid on, get up, and leave without seeing anyone I know. Simple enough, right? Maybe not in a town as small as this...

The first two parts of my plan worked; I took care of my fresh cuts, and I was right. The one that was actively bleeding did get dirty. In hindsight, I should've cleaned it or something before I left instead of just wiping it with a tissue. The cut has started to dry, but it's very clearly dirtier than the others and has a hair and fuzz from my shirt in it. Ew...I pick both out and put the band-aid on. Now, part 3 of my plan, avoid seeing anyone I know. That immediately failed as I looked up from my arm. Aubrey and I locked eyes from a distance. I quickly look away and hear her and Kim say something, they're too far for me to know. I just get up and start walking home.

Notes:

Monster and Sun Chips at 12:00am when I have to be up early enough for my brother's grad party tmr >>>>

I hope I characterized my girl Aubrey well enough. I kinda hate her part and feel I could've done better, but I don't feel like re-writing. I'll try to do better next time she's in a chapter. I feel like I always see people have Aubrey either go back to bullying Basil after she learns the truth, or like forgives him or some shit idk. It's mainly the first one I see.

I think she would be rightfully pissed at the two (maybe more forgiving of Sunny, since she pushed Basil), and not wanting to acknowledge them for a bit, due to her emotions towards the situation. God, I'm so bad at explaining.

Chapter 3: Just One

Summary:

Basil's parents arrive, and Basil feels completely fine!

🩸‼️ EXPLICIT SH TRIGGER WARNING ‼️🩸

This will prob be a short chapter, I just didn't want to go straight into the funeral (That'll be next chapter)

 

(UPDATED ON: 6/29/25. Revised and added some lines.)

(BASIL POV)

Friday, June 29th, 2003 (Evening)

 

🩸‼️ HUGE SELF H@RM TW ‼️🩸

 

I watch the door as my parents walk through, holding some of their bags. I quickly run up to them. "Hi. Do uh...do you guys need help?" I gesture to their bags. "Uhh..." My mom looks down at her bags. "I think I should be fine. Thank You, though." "Here." My dad hands me one of his bags. "Thanks, Kiddo." I nod and help them to the guest room.

After they get settled, I end up going to my room. As much as I wanted to finally talk to them more, I was just so...tired after today. I feel like I'm always exhausted as of late. Maybe it's just because I'm not a social person. It's ok, they'll be here for the whole weekend, I'll be able to spend a lot of time with them. God, what is *wrong* with me? I'm focused on being with my parents instead of grieving Grandma. I'm terrible. It's not like I can't always call my parents, even if they barely respond. I can't call grandma...I sigh dejectedly and lie on my bed, noticing the shears on the floor. I should probably pick them up.
Yep, just pick up the shears, that's all I have to do, nothing else. *Nothing Else*.

 

After about a minute of internally scolding myself, I pick up the shears from the ground.

"DOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOITDOIT"

I shake my head, trying to get rid of the thoughts.

"It'll help...just one. COME ON."

I groan slightly. "Shut up..!" I say to a non-existent voice, but then look at my arm and shears. My grip grows tighter on them.
"....Just one." I lift my sleeve, looking at my previous "work." I immediately feel that same sense of immense shame I always do after something like this. I sighed and pulled down my sleeve, rolling up the other to the slightly cleaner arm. "Just one...It'll help calm me down." I say basically regurgitating what the voices had said to me, but it's true, it'll help. I open the shears and press the blade down onto my arm, making one quick line. I suck air through my teeth and I let out a sigh. It felt good. Like all my pent-up tension and stress was let out.
For about 1 second anyway. I start to feel that same guilt and shame creep in again. I try to push that feeling away, but it doesn't feel "right." I just need to do one more, then it'll feel "right". RIght?
"Just one more."
*SLASH*
"Ok, that didn't help the feeling. Just more and I'll be fine.."
*SLASH*
"Just one more." *SLASH* "Everything will be ok..."
*SLASH*
"....shit." I curse silently. that one bled...

Notes:

I'm tired asf from my brother's grad party today, but I wanted to get one least 1 chapter out today <3

I love projecting onto my favorite characters!

Chapter 4: The Funeral

(BASIL POV)

Saturday, June 30th, 2003 (9:45 am)

 

It's Grandma's funeral today.

I sigh dejectedly as I put on my suit for the occasion. I've been putting off getting ready today. I feel so...empty. Not in the way I usually do, it's a different kind of empty. Normally, I'm able to fake a smile or mood easily, but that all feels like too much work now. I can't even get myself to cry.
As I put my suit jacket on, I look at my wrists. God...what is wrong with me? I just hope I can hide them well enough. Would a bandage make the cuts more or less obvious? I pull the sleeves back down before leaving my room.

I see my parents as I'm walking downstairs. Polly was getting ready upstairs. I see my dad fixing his suit and my mom putting down some more sympathy flowers among the various flower bouquets around in the kitchen. Lillies, Roses, Orchids, Forget-Me-Nots, etc. They make me sad to look at for a multitude of reasons.

I recall a memory from roughly 5 years ago. One of Sunny's relatives, it was a great uncle or something of the sort, had passed away. He told me that he wasn't personally close with them, but his family still got the same or at least similar sympathy flowers. I remember watching TV in his living room with him as those flowers were on the table. I didn't say anything, but they made me sad to look back then, too. I wonder if his house looked similar after Mari....I decide to push that thought out of my mind. I don't want to be reminded of that right now.

(10:15am)

"We have to leave in 30 minutes." I get snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of my dad's voice. I turn around to see him standing behind me. I nod. "ok..." "Your mom's upstairs doing her makeup and hair right now. I don't know why she always waits till the last minute to get ready for things. It's like she wants to be late." He sighs. I don't answer. Maybe she was also having trouble getting motivated to even get out of bed this morning, like me. I hope that wasn't the case, even though it's very possible. I don't want her, or honestly, anyone, to feel as I do right now. Is that selfish? I mean, she lost her mother. It's understandable. In some aspects, I felt as if I did too. I've been living with Grandma in Faraway since I was about 2 or 3. Mom and Dad had me when they were 19 in college. They couldn't handle both a child and school at the same time. It was fair enough, I suppose.
I try not to hold any resentment towards them for not being here. At least they visit? That's more than a lot of kids can say for their parents.

 

(10:45am)

We leave the house for the funeral.

(10:55am)

We arrive at the venue and get seated. We were running a little late, but we had reserved seats in the front. I sit on the far right seat with my mother to my left, with my father sitting beside her, and Polly seated beside him.

(11:05)

The service started. I was asked to speak, but combined with my mental state and general anxiety/public speaking issues, I had to decline. I don't think I'd be able to do it if I were in a better spot mentally, though.
I look around the venue, at the people, the food, the flowers, etc. It was an open casket, but I couldn't bring myself to look at her yet. I don't want to see Grandma in her casket. I don't want to see her dead. I try not to cry; it's uncomfortable crying in front of others. I'm not sure why, but I always felt bad when I cried in front of someone. Like I was bothering or burdening them. It's the same reason why I don't typically vent to people. Well, I used to vent to Sunny, but I guess I can't anymore. Even after all these years, I still wonder if he was secretly bothered by it. God, I wish I still had someone to talk to like that.
I tear up, and my mom puts her hand on my shoulder. I flinch slightly at the unexpected touch, but don't mind it. I rub her hand.

(11:45)

The service has ended, and most people are either talking or at the food table. I saw my parents and Polly get up and say something about where they were going, I think it was refreshments? I don't know, I wasn't listening. My dad gave me a pat on the shoulder as they left. I finally looked up at the casket. I sniffle as I look at her body lying there. I stand up and walk over to her, looking down at the corpse. I tear up. I place a pink rose beside her body. Pink roses represented happiness and gratitude. Although a bit ironic for a funeral, they were her favorite. On the other hand, you'd typically give a pink rose to a family member or friend, so maybe it's not that bad. Though in those gifting situations, it'd be for a graduation or birthday, not a funeral. If Grandma were still alive, maybe we'd laugh at the irony of it. It was fun pointing out stuff like that in TV shows and joking about it since we were both nerds over this kind of stuff.
But this is real life.
This is my reality.
I wipe my eyes and take one more look at her body, not ever wanting to leave her, before walking off.
I'll join her soon, hopefully.

Notes:

Damn, that chapter was longer than I thought it was gonna be. And sadder lmao.

I've never been to a funeral before, so I hope it was accurate enough to real life. I'll take any feedback on it in the comments, as always. <3

Tonight's snack for this chapter was Monster and Cheeto Puffs >>>>

Chapter 5: Hanging Out

Summary:

Kel POV ayyyy

(KEL POV)

 

Me and Aubrey are hanging out today! The gang, minus Sunny and Basil, has been hanging out more recently. It's been nice hanging out with Hero and Aubrey lately. None of us has talked much about...what really happened with Mari. If the topic ever comes up, it's quickly changed, which is fair enough. Even if no one's stated it, the truth has been a lot for all of us.
I finish my drink, crushing the can and walking out the door.

I met Aubrey at the park where we'd walk around town, talking about random stuff. Eventually, we sit down on some random bench in the park. I notice a random patch has sunflowers growing around it. "Hey, didn't Basil-" I cut myself off as I look over at Aubrey. She was clearly thinking the same thing. "Sorry, I didn't mean to br-" "It's fine," Aubrey said sternly, cutting me off. "Let's just...not talk about him right now. I don't feel like getting into that." I feel conflicted. On one hand, I understand where she's coming from, but on the other hand... "We have to talk about it sometime, Aub. We can't just...ignore what happened." "Heh...that's ironic coming from you." I blink. "What's *that* supposed to mean?" I notice Aubrey's expression turns into regret. "I didn't- just forge it, never mind....You're probably right. Just..not right now." I sigh, realizing how much she didn't want to talk about the whole situation right now. "Fine, but I'm holding you to that." I say half-jokingly, but I meant it seriously while bumping her arm slightly. "Yeah, yeah..dork." She pushes me playfully. We ended up exchanging stupid insults and pushes like that for the next like, 10 minutes. Kinda like old times...

We ended up going to Gino's. It was hot as hell today, and it was air conditioned. "Thank god the air in here works today, I swear, it's broken like half the time." I chuckle. Aubrey takes a sip of her soda. "Oh, and the workers are only at the counter like once every hour. And when they are, they seem like they hate it here." "Maybe they just hate you, Aub." I tease. "Shut up..." She chuckles.

We ended up hanging out until the sun started to set, I offered to walk Aubrey home, but she declined. We go our separate ways back to our homes.

Notes:

Sorry, this chapter was so short, idk how to write anything but angst 💀

I wanted to do something somewhat wholesome, and like write in another POV from Basil. istg I'm only good at writing him. I'll take any constructive criticism or tips on my characterization as always <3

Tonight's snack while writing: Mountain Dew: Code Red and a vanilla cupcake.

Chapter 6: After The Funeral

Summary:

‼️ CW/TW: Self H@rm reference and talk ‼️

(BASIL POV)

Saturday, June 30th, 2003 (late-afternoon)

 

‼️ TW: TALK OF SELF H@RM ‼️

 

We just got home from the funeral a few hours ago.

I have never felt worse than I do right now. I can tell I'm depressed, but it's different than my usual kind. I don't even feel like cutting. How am I even meant to cope? I don't know what to do anymore. I feel so numb, but at the same time, all I want to do is cry. I get changed into pajama pants and a random oversized t-shirt I like to sleep in sometimes. And lie on my bed. I usually would want to talk to my parents while they're here. Maybe it's best I don't talk to my parents right now. It's one, I don't feel like talking to them right now. They probably don't want to be disturbed either, to have time to properly grieve without me there.

My parents have this weird "rule" where they don't want Polly (or any of my past caretakers) at the house while they're visiting. Maybe it's some type of "I can handle my own child" thing. I don't mind it, I guess. Polly's alright. She seems nice and all, but I can't bring myself to fully open up to or trust her. Is that wrong? I don't know...

I look at my cut-up arm. What's wrong with me? Sometimes I can barely go one day without doing it, but then I'll go months. This time is different, though. During the months I don't do it, it's never on my mind. It is now, I just don't have the urge for it. It's so weird...I just want to feel better. Cutting only rarely helps now that I think about it. In some weird, messed-up up, I almost like looking at my scars and cuts. I'm so messed up. I want people to see my cuts, I want people to ask about them, to care; But at the same time, I'd rather die than have anyone see or mention them. Though right now I'm finding it hard to care either way. I hate when I get numb like this. Hopefully, it doesn't last long this time.

 

Saturday, June 30th, 2003 (evening)

I was right. It didn't last long. Well, part of it anyway. That same familiar urge is back again. For once, I've decided not to act on it. Least for now, maybe.
I go downstairs for a cup of coffee and see my mom in the kitchen. "Hi...Mom." She looks at me, wiping her eyes. "Oh, hi, dear." I stayed silent for a moment. I considered going with a 'how're you', but I could tell just by looking at her. "Where's Dad? I haven't seen him much..." "He went to get some things from the store. He'll be back soon." I nod. I know he probably went to get alcohol. I always get this strange, uncomfortable feeling when he drinks. He's not an angry drunk or anything like that; it just makes me uncomfortable knowing he's drunk. Maybe that's more of a me-issue. I'll cut him some slack this time. Grandma's dead, even if it's not the healthiest way to cope, he might need it right now. Or Mom. Then again, what can I say about healthy coping mechanisms?

I open the fridge to get my pre-made coffee out when I hear the sound of my Mother's voice. "What's that on your arm?" I freeze. Shit. I forgot to change. Before I can act, she grabs my arm.
"Basil...what have you been doing?" "...." "Well?" I fight back tears. nononono. This can't be happening. Why didn't I change? Why did she have to be here right now? Why?
"I uh...I'm sorry." I managed to stammer out. Not knowing what to say. I glanced up at her. My mom seemed tired and worried. "Basil..." She said sympathetically. "You need help." She lets go of my arm. I feel a little confused and almost hurt by her reaction. I know I'm messed up and need help, but it hurts when someone else says it. Especially my own mom. "I thought we knew that already...you offered to pay for my therapy?" "I know that." She sighed and grabbed both my arms this time. "Mom...please don't.." I say, tears welling in my eyes, making a poor attempt to pull away. That just made her grip tighten. "Stop. Let me look." I just silently fight back my tears, feeling a mix of shame, embarrassment, and anger towards myself. "Why would you do this to yourself? Is it because of me?" "w-What? no. I-i don't- it's not you, mom." I meant what I said; it really wasn't her fault, but my stammering may have made it seem otherwise. To my surprise, she dropped my wrists once again. "Honey...I can't deal with this right now. I know that sounds harsh, but please, give me some time, ok? I'm going to have to talk this over with Dad as well." I wipe my eyes. She hugs me, but I don't reciprocate. I just nod. As she pulled away, she spoke up again. "We're talking about this tomorrow with Dad, ok?" I just nod again, I don't feel fully present at the moment anymore.
Everything will be ok...hopefully.

Notes:

Oh boy! Another chapter of me projecting hard onto Basil Omori!

Tonight's Snack: The same as last chapter. They were both written within the span of like 2 hours.

Chapter 7: Waiting

Summary:

Basil having a great time in his room!

‼️ TRIGGER WARNING FOR PANIC ATTACKS AND ANXIETY ‼️

(BASIL POV)

Sunday, July 1st, 2003

 

‼️ TW: PANIC ATTACKS/ANXIETY ‼️

 

I lay in my bed all day, dreading the eventual "talk." It's not that my parents are exactly bad people or anything, I just don't want to talk to them about this. Or have them even know about it in the first place.
Is it all that surprising, though? I've had issues they've known about for years- Hell, I just tried to take my life a few weeks ago! I mean, I understand that as parents, they can't just ignore it. Or maybe they could. They seem used to ignoring me. I chuckle at that "joke."
Speaking of people ignoring me, I can't help but wonder how the others are doing. Aubrey, Kel, Hero...Sunny. God, they all probably feel horrible, and it's all my fault. I wish I could talk to any of them. They probably hate me now. Fair enough, I'd hate me too. Though I guess I also checked that box, too.
I should talk to at least one of them someday. Not right now..there's too much happening with me right now. Is that selfish?

I sit in my room for the next 2 hours listening to music on my various vinyls - mostly metal. I find it comforting, almost.
I recount the memory of when I was 14, and it had to have been around 3 am, and Grandma and I were both awake for whatever reason, and I told her I had been listening to Slipknot, and all she said was "Oh goodness." She didn't seem to care too much, though. She was oddly chill for a grandma.
I chuckle sadly at the memory. Sometimes I felt like Grandma was "chill" like that just because she felt bad for me. I've felt that a lot in general with past caretakers, people at the church, etc, because of my parents. Even more so with Polly, especially as of late.

Oh god, Polly. She's gonna leave me too, isn't she? I mean, Grandma's dead. She was mostly hired to care for Grandma; she took care of me on the side, I guess, but she didn't need to. It's not like I need a nurse. I'm not even that close with Polly, so why is my heart racing? Why am I panicking at the thought of her leaving? Why does everyone leave?! Even if it's her job to care for me, it was still nice having someone care about me. I don't want a new person to get used to in the house, or to meet, or to talk to or to anything. I just want my parents, or Polly even or Grandma. I start crying as my heart is racing. All of a sudden, everything feels too loud, and I can feel the darkness surrounding me in the corners of my vision as I cry into my hands. I turn off the music, but it doesn't help much. I would get my emergency medication from the bathroom, but I barely feel like I can move right now. After about what felt like an hour, I finally got the strength to stand up. I feel lightheaded and hot. I hope to god no one comes in right now. Because I swear to god if someone comes I will- My thoughts get cut off as I fall to the floor.

 

Next thing I know, I awaken with my parents shaking me awake on the floor of my bedroom. I feel disoriented. "What..." is all I was able to get out. My dad sits me up with my back against the frame of my bed. "What happened?" My dad asked. My mom sat in front of me, placing her hand on my arm. I'm a little uncomfortable with the touch, but decide not to mention it. "I...don't know. I was..i don't know." "Do you need to go to the hospital? Please talk to us, Basil." My mom asked, worried. "No. I uh..i was just anxious...i was going to get my meds and...yeah..." I said groggily before continuing. "I don't think I need them now, though." "Ok. Do you want water?" My dad asked. I nodded as he got up and left the room. I sigh. My mom rubs my arm, I don't feel like looking at her or my dad, for that matter, at the moment. "I'm sorry," I said, looking down at my lap and the ground. "For what? You didn't do anything wrong." I don't answer. In all honesty, I'm not entirely sure why I was apologizing. I just felt bad for causing a "commotion." My dad came back with a bottle and handed it to me. "Thank you.." I take a sip of the water. "Basil, are you ok to stand up? We need to talk." I freeze at that. I knew it was coming, those dreaded words, that conversation. 'i-i..yeah.." I say shakily. "I'll be fine."
"Ok. Come downstairs."
My Mom stood up, and I watched as they walked out of my room and down the stairs. I sighed and slowly stood up, still holding my water and anxiously following them.

Notes:

Whoo! Another chapter after 570 years! (like one week)
My birthday is this week, so I'll be busy for once, but I'll try to get the next chapter out soon enough (trust)

Basil listens to metal music, it's canon, Omocat personally told me

Tonight's snack: Mountain Dew: Code Red
lwk addicted to it, lmao.

Chapter 8: The Talk

Summary:

Basil and his parents have a fun little chat about silly events from previous chapters

!! CW/TW: Talk of SH and Su!c!de and Alcoholism!!

(BASIL POV)

Sunday, July 1st, 2003

 

‼️CW/TW: ALCOHOLISM + TALK OF SELF H@RM & SU!C!DE‼️

 

My mind races as we walk down the short staircase that feels longer than usual. I feel like I'm going crazy. To be fair, I hallucinate a fair amount. I probably am to an extent...
I shake my head as I reach the bottom of the stairs, not wanting to think about that right now. Everything will be ok...hopefully.

"Come sit down." My Dad said. I sit down on the couch, between my parents. It's uncomfortable, but this whole conversation will be. I rub my arm nervously.

Big Mistake.

My Mom grabs my arm. "h-hey!-" I weakly exclaim. Mom interrogated, "Were you cutting again? Is that why you passed out?" "What? No! I told you, I was just anxious! Listen, I barely know what happened either, I've never passed out from it- the panic attacks, I mean- I have come close." I explained, talking fast. God, it seemed like I was lying, didn't it? "Then show us your arms." My Dad said somewhat coldly. I'm not used to him speaking to me in that tone. Or really at all...Honestly, he seems friendlier when he's drunk. Even if he doesn't talk to me much. "I...-" "Basil. Now." I tense up and hesitantly roll up my sleeves, looking away from my parents and my arms. I fight back tears. Why do they need to be so invasive with this? Why now? Why couldn't they wait? Why didn't I just wear long sleeves yesterday? I'm so stupid. I hear my dad sigh. I can't tell if he's just upset or disappointed. I'd rather it be the former. "Oh, Basil.." I heard my mom say. My dad pulls down my sleeves. I look at him, a little surprised. I was right. He looked upset. I look away again, not wanting to see either of their faces. "Your mom and I were talking...and we got you a therapist. You'll start weekly sessions next Monday." My dad informed me. "Please talk about your...issue. Or issues with your therapist, ok? I swear, you always hide everything from us..." My mom said that last part almost annoyed? Maybe I'm making that up...What does she even want me to do? They barely answer or return my calls, or visit as it is. How am I even meant to tell them about this stuff, even if I wanted to? I just nod and hug my sides.

There's a very tense and awkward silence before my dad speaks up. "Do you...Want to go out for dinner?" I shake my head. I just want to be left alone to cry. "Walmart? We always go there when I visit." Yeah, to get liquor. I always cried afterwards. I just went to spend time with him. Didn't he go to Othermart already? Why did he want to go to Walmart? "Yeah, I think you should, sweetie." My Mom encouraged as she rubbed my shoulder. I tensed. I don't know why I get so tense when anybody but Grandma and Sunny touches me. Maybe I should go...I need a good cry anyway. "Uhm..sure." My parents smiled.

My Mom didn't come on the" trip" with us. I don't know if it's because it's considered a "me and dad" thing, or if it's because she wants to be alone right now. It could be either.

As we drive, we don't talk to each other, the only sound coming from the road and the radio. Walmart is somewhat far from town, given the fact that Faraway is basically in the middle of nowhere. Hence the name, I presumed. The distance isn't too bad, about 45 minutes from home. After 15-20 minutes of silence from each other, my dad speaks up.
"I'm sorry about earlier. You know how your mother can be. Always worrying..." Dad said with a bit of a smile, trying to make the situation seem lighter. I just nod. I get a little uncomfortable as he brings up Mom. After another beat of silence, he continued, "And frankly..." He took a sip out of a poorly disguised flask. "I'm worried for you, too, Basil." I snap my neck toward him. I wasn't expecting that. "What?" I spoke for the first time on this car ride. "What do you mean 'what'?" He said mildly playful. "Of course I'm going to be worried about you, Kid. First, you tried to kill yourself, and then your mom told me about your arms. Jesus..." He took another sip from his flask. I shift uncomfortably. At both the drinking and the mention of my attempt. "I'm sorry.." My Dad Sighed. "Don't...Don't apologize. I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're thinking. I just..I don't..." He trailed off. "Don't want what?" I asked nervously. He hesitated. "Don't want you to end up like that, Mari girl, a while back..." I freeze. I can feel my blood run cold at that. He still thinks Mari killed herself. Most people do. I didn't even know he knew about her existence; it's not like they ever asked about my life. Maybe Grandma told him? Doesn't matter. I just stared into nothing. I could feel my breathing pick up as I sat there frozen, trying to seem normal. I don't think it's working well at all.

My dad seemed to have noticed my shift in emotions. He put a hand on my shoulder. I flinched, and he quickly took it off. "Sorry...I didn't mean to bring up a bad memory. Just forget about what I said, the point was that I don't want to lose you, Basil." As nice as I find the comment, I can't bring myself to fully appreciate it after his previous remark. I just nod and wipe my eyes.

The rest of the ride was silent.

We arrived at Walmart 25 minutes later. As we walked in, I wondered what he even wanted here. Maybe othermart didn't have any of his usual stuff? I know he likes bourbon, which seems pretty easy to find in any store. Maybe he wanted a specific brand or flavor, or-
"Come on." I heard my dad say, gesturing for me to follow. I must've been lost in thought again. Just as I suspected, we headed toward the section with all the alcohol. "Did...Othermart not have your usual stuff?" I hesitantly asked in a quiet tone. All I got as a response was a small grunt, which sounded like a no. Crap. I hope he isn't mad at me now. Why would I ask that? I silently berate myself for a few minutes before my dad told me to follow him again. I assumed we were just going to check out, but we went to the can't aisle instead. A little confused, I looked up at my dad. "Pick something out, my treat." He lightly nudged me. "Oh uh..n-no thanks. It's ok." I just want to go home. "No, really, it's fine. Just pick something out." "Uh...ok..." I just grabbed the first bag I saw. It was a random bag of caramel chocolates. "Is that all? I can get you some other snacks if you want." Oh, so that's what it is. He just feels bad for me. "N-no. It's ok." I said politely. Even if I wanted to get something more, I'd still feel bad for spending his money. Why am I always like this? He just nodded and sighed. "Ok then..."

We checked out and got back into the car. The drive was relatively silent, only a few comments here and there about the music. I recall a memory from the last time he visited, I think it was a year ago, maybe a little longer, we were in this same situation. Driving home from another shitty, emotionally draining Walmart trip. The only difference was that he was a little drunker, and I was still at least somewhat grateful to be spending time with him. To an extent, anyhow. I remember "Creep" by Radiohead came on the radio as we were driving, and even though I was on the verge of tears, we both enjoyed the song. I remember it being stuck in my head as I was crying when I got home. Kind of emo, I know. I think of that night every time I hear the song now. You'd think I'd hate it, given the bad memory associated with it, but I really don't.

After 45 minutes, we finally arrived back home, where I quickly excused myself to my room so I could finally be alone. God, what is wrong with me? Even after a day like this, normally I'd still want to hang out with my parents to some extent. It just feels tense around them now. Maybe it'll be better next time they come over...

I noticed my shears were gone. "Shit. Mom." I thought. A small feeling of panic is rising in my chest. I sigh and shake my head. I can deal with it later. It's only 7 pm, but I'm so tired...I'll look for them tomorrow. It's a small house.

I close my eyes and try to sleep.

Notes:

I was up until 6 am last night writing this, and I still didn't finish all of it. 💀
But it's finished now at 4:30pm the next day! Ngl, I feel like the last bit of this chapter was kind of weak, but oh well.

Kind of a long chapter today for once lol

Tonight's snack: Peach Monster (best flavor)

I'm out of my Mountain Dew: Code Red 😔 No defeating squips now (iykyk)

Chapter 9: I should just-

Summary:

TW/CW: Suicidal ideation, Intrusive/Suicidal thoughts, Talk of Overdosing, & Mild Alcholism

 

Sorry for the wait between chapters as of late, I've been pretty depressed recently, and it's been kinda hard to find the motivation to write :/ So, sorry if this chapter sucks.

I'm back now (kind of), thank you all for the support on this fic! I really do appreciate it, and honestly, also just happy someone's reading it.

Anyway, shameless plug time: I'm active on Tumblr (account linked in bio), so if you wanna hear from me more or wtv, go follow me there!

(BASIL POV)

Monday, July 2nd, 2003

 

‼️TW: Suicidal Ideation+ Intrusive thoughts/Thoughts of suicide via Overdosing + mild alcholism‼️

 

I woke up at 12:30 pm today. Makes sense since I didn't have a good night last night. Sometimes it feels like I never do. I'm still tired for some reason. My parents didn't come to check on me or-
Oh yeah, I need to take my meds. I lazily sit up and wipe my eyes. Usually, Polly would wake me up so I could take my medication. Most of the time, I would take them and go back to sleep. I guess my parents forgot? Or maybe Polly didn't tell them? Or maybe they just assumed I'd do it on my own. They seem accustomed to having me do stuff on my own. Was that bitchy? I didn't mean it to sound that way. They probably just forgot...

I go to the bathroom, where my medication is kept. I hold it and look down at the bottle. "Busprione," it reads. It works...decently well. It's not a Benzodiazepine or SSRI, which is good. Because I'm a minor and they're usually more of a short-term medication, I can't have benzos, and apparently I have some weird, rare allergy to SSRIs. It's kind of funny. I'm so depressed that my body rejects the most common depression medications (even though I was on them for Anxiety). I recall the whole situation. I was 14, going on 15, and on some type of SSRI, but I would get hives after taking it. The doctor assumed it was a reaction to the dye in the pill, and put me on another one. But I was still having the reactions. After a lot of tests, and "I don't know what's wrong with you"s from the doctor, we concluded I'm allergic to SSRIs. That doctor is retiring soon, I heard. He was pretty old...
"Take all of them." A voice said. No. I shouldn't. Not right now, anyway. Could I even overdose with these, realistically? I'd probably just pass out and/or puke it all out. After taking my pill, I go downstairs. Maybe I can find my shears? It's not a very big house, should be easy.

After snooping around a bit, I went to the closet with all my other garden tools. I thought it'd be a little silly if it was there, but checked anyway. Funnily enough, they were there. On the top shelf. Bad day to be short...I stood on my tiptoes and just barely managed to grab onto it. After pulling it down, I quickly go back up to my room to hide it again. I hid it under some papers and notebooks in my dresser. Hopefully, it isn't too obvious.

 

Even after yesterday and maybe even this entire visit, I still want to talk to my parents before they leave tomorrow. I hate that they can never stay long. I can feel anger bubbling up. I don't want to be upset at them. I hate being upset at people. I sigh and try to push the feeling down. So what if they're never here for long? It's better than them never being here at all. I tell myself. Plus, it's not like it's their fault anyway. They have jobs. Jobs that are...very important. Maybe even more important than me...I push down that thought. I walk out of my room once again to search for them.

I start with Grandma's (old) room. I knocked on the door, and my dad opened it, to my surprise. "Hey, kid." He said. "Uhm...Hi...Dad. Do...you want to uh do something together?" I awkwardly ask. He chuckled. "Sure, like what?" I didn't think this far ahead. I don't really know what fathers even do with their sons. I try to think back to what he and I usually do together, other than going to Walmart. "We can...watch TV? I-if you want..." I don't know why, but I was surprised when he agreed.

I know why he agreed now. It was so he could drink. He always drank and watched TV while I was there. I would try to talk to him during it, not sure how much he was listening. I'd do it until I felt awkward or like he was annoyed or if I ran out of things to say. Still, spending time with him is still spending time with him. Today was no different. My dad sat there and drank his Guinness, as I rambled on about whatever. Plants, music, anything. I could tell he heard me, but he wasn't listening. I still appreciated him letting me sit beside him and talk, though. Even if it probably was annoying. Maybe that's why he drinks while I rant to him. Oh My God. What if that's true? That I'M why he drinks. I'm horrible. I'm feeding into his alcoholism. I'm why he's like this.

I'm the problem.
I should just kill myself.

I shake my head to rid myself of this thought. I can't do that to my parents while they're here. It's about 3:00 pm by now. I realized that my mom was nowhere to be seen. I tapped my dad's arm for a bit, and he looked at me. "What?" "D-Do you know where Mom went? Is she home?" I asked somewhat nervously. I don't even know why I was nervous to ask this. It's a perfectly normal question to ask, I tell myself. "Oh, she didn't tell you?" He seemed genuinely surprised. "She went out with her friend, Rachel." My Dad said nonchalantly and turned back to the TV, sipping his beer. She left? She left without telling me. I try to calm myself; it's nothing to get upset over. She just wants to reunite with some friends before she leaves, that's all. I desperately tell myself. She doesn't hate me. "When will she be back?" "I don't know. Probably by dinner. Unless they eat out together." He takes a swing of Guinness. She probably hates me. "Where is she now? W-w-what're they doing together?" "God, kid. I don't know. You don't have to introgate. Call your mom if you're so worried about her." He said, mildly annoyed. I nodded and looked away. Crap. He's mad at me. I messed everything up again. Of course I did. All because I can't keep my damn emotions in check, all because I overreact to everything, all because I'm selfish. I'm selfish. A terrible, selfish human being. All I do is mess things up, All I do is mess up people's lives.

I should just kill myself.

 

Notes:

My Basil plush came in today!!! :D I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, hope y'all like it. Might add onto it later or just make a new chapter.
I wanna add Aubrey into a chapter again soon, so hopefully that'll happen within the next few chapters.

I hope I didn't make Basil seem *too* obsessive/codependent. I know he is within canon, but I've seen a lot of people make it "over the top" per se, which I fear might've done in this chapter. Oh Well.. :')

Tonight's Snack: Dr. Pepper Strawberries & Cream

Chapter 10: Him. ("Hanging Out" Pt 2)

Summary:

uhhh Basil's parents leave & Auby will be in it

 

The Aubrey part is her POV from chapter 5

 

This will probably be a short chapter :/

(BASIL POV)

Tuesday, July 3rd, 2003

My parents leave today. They only stayed for 4 days. It was...an experience. As horrible as I am for feeling this way, I'm glad they left, almost. Dad said he'd visit again soon, since work would allow. I'm not sure how likely it is that he'll follow up on that. Polly will be here in a few hours...She's driving them to the airport right now.

I'm still unsure about what's going on with her being here; I'm trying not to think about it after what happened last time.

 

---

This part takes place during chapter 5

(AUBREY POV)

I hated him.

I hate him.

I don't even want to think about him. That fucking traitor, that fucking- I screamed into my pillow. I want him out of my life. I want to stop thinking about, maybe even still caring for him.

How could he DO that?! At least with Sunny, it was an accident. I never want to see Basil again.

I try to cool off; I need to get my mind off this. Thank god Kel was free to hang out today. I checked the time. Shit, I have to get going for that. I climb down my attic ladder and walk downstairs, and put my shoes on. I see my mom drunk off her ass on the couch watching TV, as usual. I quietly scoff. I consider telling her I'm going out, not that she'd care, but I decide against it. I can't deal with this hag right now.

I met Kel at the park. "Hey, Dweeb." I greet with a smirk. "Hey, don't call me that!" Kel yelled in protest. Kel and I walked around town for about an hour just talking about random shit. Friends, recent events, etc, before settling to sit down on a random bench at the park. I spotted some sunflowers on a patch of grass beside a lamp-post near the road.

Him. Those were his favorites. I remember him mentioning something about that, however many years ago. I can feel myself tense up when I hear Kel say HIS name. Kel seemed to cut himself off. I looked at him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to br-" "It's fine," I said, somewhat annoyed and stern. I hate thinking about him. "Let's just...not talk about him right now. I don't feel like getting into that." I looked away again at the sunflowers and then literally any other spot I could find. Kel spoke up again. "We have to talk about it sometime, Aub. We can't just...ignore what happened." It's almost all I've been able to think of, which is precisely why I want to ignore it. Plus, it's not like any of us talk about it anyway. I mean, on one hand, we probably should, but...I don't know, I don't think I'm ready for that. Also, what is Kel on? Telling me not to ignore this? He seems to ignore his own issues all the time, even though he doesn't notice it. Or at least can tell I noticed it. I looked at him again, more annoyed now. "Heh...that's ironic coming from you," I said snarkily. "What's *that* supposed to mean?" Kel responded in an almost upset tone. No, Offended? Tone of voice. Shit. Maybe that was too far. Or too personal. I probably shouldn't have said that. "I didn't- just forget it, never mind....You're probably right. Just..not right now." Kel sighed. "Fine, but I'm holding you to that." Kel said with a half smile on his face while bumping my arm. "Yeah, yeah...Dork."

 

A little bit more time passed, and the previous tension had lifted. "Goddddd...I haven't eaten in like, 3 hours..!" Kel complained. "Can we go to Gino's or something?" "Heh. Sure, whatever, fatass." I laughed lightly at him.

After eating at Gino's, we decided to play some new random claw machine they had there. Everything in there looks like it's been there for like, 20 years, even though they just installed it about a month ago. There's candy and a few novelty prizes like rubber ducks. "Yo!!! Aub!! There's one with a basketball print!" He pointed excitedly to one of the ducks on the machine. "I'm gonna get it, you have a quarter?" I roll my eyes, not wanting to have him spend my money on this shit. I'll do it for him anyway. "Yeah, here." I handed him whatever change I had in my pocket. "Thanks! You're the best, you know that?" I scoff, "Yeah, sure."

After about 30 minutes (and lots of quarters) of both of us trying to get the stupid duck, we eventually decided to give up. Mostly because we were both out of cash.

We walk out of the restaurant. "How the hell did we manage to MOVE the duck further?" I said with a chuckle. "I dunno, man. Probably because you suck at claw machines." He flashed me a smug smile. "Oh, shut up. I was closer to getting it than you ever were!" I lightly pushed him. "Hell no! You were the one who moved it further!" He nudged me back. After about 5 minutes of back and forth, we ended up back at the park. "Hey, wanna go to the hangout spot?" I asked. Kel enthusiastically agreed. God, does he do anything unenthusiastically? I guess it's part of his "charm."

We sat at the dock skipping rocks 'n shit until the sun started to set. "Oh..man. I need to be home soon. Curfew." Kel said dejectedly at the sight of the sunset. I sigh. As much as I don't want to go home, I don't want to be stuck alone in this heat. At night. We both stood up. "Yeah...me too."

After exiting the forest area and getting closer to the sidewalk, Kel offered to walk me home. Even though he's seen the state of it, I don't want him back there anyway. Plus, my "mother" might have something to say if she saw someone walking me home. I declined and we both went back home on our separate ways.

Notes:

yayyyy new chapter! This one took me approximately 800 years to write bc it wasn't that angsty + a non-Basil POV. My two weaknesses 😔

Hope it was ok enough despite that. tbh, I liked this chapter.

Tonight's snack: Salad and Monster (Tea + Lemonade flavor) (peak flavor)

Chapter 11: Home Alone

Summary:

yay chapter
i depression

TRIGGER WARNING: Intrusive thoughts, auditory hallucinations(?), thoughts of & attempted self-harm.

(BASIL POV)

Tuesday, July 3rd, 2003 (late night)

 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Intrusive thoughts, auditory hallucinations(?), self-harm.

 

I'm sitting on the couch, waiting for Polly. The clock reads "11:31." I don't even know why I'm waiting so intently for her. Or why I hate the thought of her leaving for good. It's not like we talked much or that I even spoke to her much. Nonetheless, I sat on the couch waiting for her arrival. I'm also partly waiting downstairs so I don't cut myself. Even though they're out of sight, the shears are not out of mind.

There are knives, though.

"Go for the knives, Basil." A voice said. "It'll be easy. They're only 3 feet away." Another thought appended. "Stop it." I weakly retorted to the voices? thoughts? Or maybe they're real? No, it has to be in my head...

Either way, all of the swirling thoughts started to layer with one another.

"Just go f-" "knives..." "You want to-" "KILL YOURSE-" "just o-" "doitdoitdoitdoitdoit" "cut..." "it'll help, ju-"

"Stop it!" I yelled while covering my ears (which did less than nothing to help). It's rarely this bad. I don't know what to do. Maybe...Maybe it'll stop if I go over to the kitchen. Right?<

As the voices faded in and out, whispering and screaming demands, suggestions, and requests at me, I made my way into the kitchen. I had a small victory of relative silence before-

"Stab your eyes out." Not that it was a necessarily new thought, it still caught me slightly off guard. "Ok...maybe looking at the knives will help..." I mostly whispered to myself, then turned to the set of knives resting in the sharpening block. Goddamnit. "CUT Y-" "DO-" "Just- be quiet already!!" I yelled again, feeding into the voices. Before I knew it, I was holding a decently sized knife. Smaller than a butcher's, a little larger than a steak knife.

God...look at it. I instinctively touched the tip of the knife. It was sharp, of course, but not sharp enough to cause any bleeding.

I try to hold back from running my finger across the inviting, sharp blade. See? I'm doing fine...Holding the knife...Nothing bad will happen...As long as I'm able to-

"JUST FUCKING DO IT."

I nearly flinched at that yell. It was more like a scream. I glanced out a nearby window to see if it was someone yelling outside. It's too dark out to see. I look down at the knife in my hand. "I don't need more cuts on my wrists," I thought.

I sat on the kitchen counter.

 

 

"So why not thighs?"

Notes:

short ahh chapter i know

lwk hate it
I really thought I cooked with this, ew. My bad, y'all. might rewrite it. Arguably the worst one yet.

Tonight's snack: Kiwi Gauva Celcius

Chapter 12: Othermart

Summary:

TW: (mentioned) SELF HARM, (social) ANXIETY/PANIC ATTACKS

(BASIL POV)

Tuesday, July 3rd, 2003 (late night)

TW: MENTIONED SELF-HARM, (SOCIAL) ANXIETY/PANIC ATTACKS

.
.
.

I looked down at my very first thigh cuts. What is wrong with me? At least they didn't bleed much...They shouldn't scar (hopefully.) I lazily wash the fresh wounds and pull my previously rolled-up shorts back down.

I checked the time. The clock read "11:49." It's only been 18 minutes? It felt like 18 hours...Polly should be back soon. I carefully wash off the knife (just in case) and place it back in the sharpening block where I had originally picked it up.

Wednesday, July 4th, 2003

12:15 am.

Polly walked through the door. I was sitting on the couch watching whatever was on TV, like nothing had happened. Polly walked up to me. I look up at her. "Hi, Basil. Sorry, it took so long. You know how it is here..everything is just so far. Did you take your medication at 9?" I nod. Polly nods back and sits beside me. A little too close for my comfort, but it's fine. "So...Basil. I was talking with your parents...And…We decided that I’ll be staying as your caretaker for the time being. Given that we just lost your grandma, and since you seem comfortable around me, a new caretaker would be too much for you at the moment.” I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. I’m happy she’s staying, because they’re right. I couldn’t handle a new person. I don’t know or talk to Polly that much, but she’s still a familiar face. Honestly, I’m not sure what reaction I’m supposed to have. Should I say “thank you”? Should I hug her? No, I don’t feel comfortable with touch from most people. Do I nod? Say “Ok”? Shit. I don’t know. “Uhm…That’s nice…” I said awkwardly. Seriously? That’s the best I could come up with? Polly probably thinks I hate her. “I-I mean…I’m glad.” My hands pat my knees as I force a smile. She chuckled lightly. God, she probably thinks I’m an idiot. Speaking of me being an idiot…I had that panic attack the other day over nothing. She was staying the whole time. I passed out over nothing. Pathetic, really.

I excused myself to my room, saying I was going to bed since it was late. We all know that’s a lie. I’ve been dealing with mild insomnia since I was 10. I think it’s hereditary…Grandma had a hard time staying asleep at times. My mom, too. It’s gotten a little worse since…The incident.

I was finally able to get to sleep by 2:25 am.

(BASIL POV)

Saturday, July 7th, 2003

TW: PANIC ATTACKS & (social) ANXIETY + MENTION OF SH

.
.
.

 

Polly sent me out to Othermart today to buy more fruit. She could’ve done it herself, but I think she wanted me to get out more. It’s fine…I don’t like complaining. It’s probably good to go out, get fresh air, right? I weakly tried to convince myself with little to no success. As much as I’ve tried to be more of an optimist, I just can’t. I hate that part of myself. As much as I tried to ignore it, it’s always there. Always looming over me. Like many other things in my life…

I walk cautiously to the store, hoping I don’t see anyone I know. I can’t handle that. I never can, to be fair, though. I look down at the list of fruits to buy. “Peaches, Apples, & Strawberries,” the list read. Ok, easy enough. I walk into the store. It’s not that busy today, thank god. Maybe about 10 people? 10 people too many.

Ok, in and out. You’ll be in and out. No problem. I quickly walk to the fruit aisle. Not too quick, though. I don’t want to draw attention to myself. Crap. There are a few other people in this aisle. I don’t recognize them, thankfully. It didn’t help with anything, though. God, why do they have to be here? Couldn’t they be in ANY other aisle? I try to control my breathing nd most of all, seem normal.

It doesn’t help. I feel like their eyes are on me. I can feel their eyes on me. I can feel them judging me.
They probably think I’m so weird. They probably see right through me. Who wears long sleeves in July anyway? Cutters. That’s who. They all know. They all think you’re a sick freak.
I shake my head and semi-quickly walk away to the register, having gotten everything on the list.

After checking out, I took a deep breath as I walked out of the store. I start walking home. That was horrible. I never want to go outside again.

Notes:

yay writing again after a week!

Listening to Wishbone by Conan Gray rn. "Nausous" is so Basil bc I said so.

 

Tonight's Snack: Dr Pepper & Pink Slush Alani

Chapter 13: Here We Go Again

Summary:

Basil misses his grandma or some shit idk

Very fun events unfold

TW: INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, MOURNING/GRIEF, SELF-HARM, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

(BASIL POV)

Sunday, July 8th, 2003 (late night)

TRIGGER WARNING: INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, GRIEF, SELF-HARM, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS.

 

Today had been a bad day. I guess when you think about it, all my days are bad. So then, today was a particularly bad day. Today at dinner, Polly brought up that we need to sort through Grandma's things and clean out her room. Technically, Polly didn't specify when we should be doing this, but I feel like she meant soon. What is wrong with her??? I can't do that! Grandma is barely in the ground, and she wants me to go through her things? Practically desacrate the very same room she used to read me stories in as a child? I took a deep breath. It's wrong to get upset. It's wrong to BE upset. I am not that kind of person...I'm not.

Tears of...rage? saddness? Anguish? Welled up in my eyes as I recalled the previous conversation I had with Polly and memories of Grandma.

.......

It's about 11 pm. I have therapy tomorrow. I need to get to bed within the next few hours. Hopefully, my insomnia won't act up. (It probably will.) I started to get changed into my pajamas; I looked down at my thighs. The cuts weren't fresh, but there were many. More than I remembered. I've been avoiding looking at them. It was so much worse than I had previously thought. They were bad. Not bad, as in deep or anything. There's just...a lot. It looks like only one or two will scar (if any). I ran a finger over the scabbed and healing wounds. It didn't sting, surprisingly. Probably because they're not fresh, I inferred. I hated loved everything I was looking at.

I'm sick.

I sat down in my bed with tears in my eyes. I hate myself. I hate my life. I hate my scars. I hate my cuts. I hate everything. I started to grip my pant legs, but quickly stopped due to the pressure of my nails digging into my cuts.

I miss her. I miss her so much. I hate thinking about it, but then I feel like shit for avoiding it. She was practically my mom. I loved her. She loved me. She actually cared about me. \

 

And now she's gone.

 

Just like everyone else.

Why does everyone have to leave me? Am I that insufferable? I know I am.

I was a mistake. I've been told multiple times I was. Whether it be gentle wording from a loved one, or those exact words (sometimes worse) from a bully. It didn't matter. I wasn't meant to be here either way.

I should just do it. I don't even know what's keeping me alive anymore. The fear of failing? I've had many failed and downright interrupted attempts before, so this time shouldn't make a difference. Maybe it's the fear of surviving? or succeeding.

I don't know...I should at least write a note...Not tonight. Maybe therapy will help. I doubt it will, or that I'll even end up talking about these thoughts or my self-harm, but still. Actually, that raises the question. What WILL I talk about? I can't just go in there and say, "Oh yeah, I helped cover up a murder when I was 12 and now the most important people in my life have left me." Will I get into legal trouble if I bring up the Mari situation? Best not to think about it...I'll just stall the whole session and pretend to get better. I'm good at pretending everything's ok.

I turned off my light and listlessly lay in my bed. I was so tired. Maybe that means I'll finally get to bed before 1 am for once. I rested my head against the pillow with my scarred, cut-up, shameful wrist exposed to the darkness. Maybe the ghosts in my room will get a good laugh at it. I thought to myself sarcastically. God. It's happening again. Horrible flashing commands and images in my brain that I can't block out. I should cut myself. I should kill myself. My wrist is out and exposed; the usual pair of dull shears is in the nightstand. It would be so easy. I should just do it. DO IT. I clenched my fist and shut my eyes tight as if that did any good. I wish there were any way I could escape these thoughts. I mean, I can't just cut myself every time some asshole in my brain tells me to, right?

...Right?

 

"Only three," I tell myself, shears in hand. "Three is all they're demanding, so three is all I should do..." I clentched the dull garden shears. What is wrong with me?

I brought the blade to the ventral side of my forearm. I took a deep breath and exhaled as I made the first cut, trying not to do much or nearly any damage. The goal is for these to heal AT MOST within the next few days, hopefully sooner. If I cut light enough, they can heal by tomorrow. It stung for maybe a second. I tried to look at the cut, but it was too dark to really see anything at the moment. I turned on my light. Barely a scratch. Good. should've been deeper.

Just 2 more...*SLASH* *SLASH* Oh..those barely even cut. Doesn't even look like they left a mark. Wow, these ARE dull...I'll make note to buy more sometime soon. Or to start using the good shears. *SLASH* *SLASH* That's better. I felt those ones, kind of. I looked back down at my arm. ironically, the first cut seemed to be the deepest. It'll probably be the only one that won't heal by tomorrow. I dragged my finger across the inflamed cut and with a surprisng amount of self-control, put the shears back. After one last look, I turned off the lights and went to bed for real tonight.

Hopefully tomorrow everything goes well.

Notes:

Oh boy, yet another chapter about self-harm, who could've guessed it? I was going to sleep, but then bad thoughts and inspiration struck, so here we are.

uhhhhh sorry if bbygirl is ooc here. I tried to incorporate his hidden-away/bottled-up anger and pessimism, so let's hope that worked out well.

I still don't know why people like this fic, but tysm <333 Tbh I thought the entire thing would've been done by now, but unless I wanted to pull a Pursuit AU and have every chapter be 10k words, there's no way that could've happened lmao.

 

TONIGHT'S SNACK: None. I wrote this spontaneously instead of eeping 💀