Work Text:
you hate everything about your bro.
you hate the way he never communicated efficiently. you hate how instead of feeding you properly, he'd spend all his money on new equipment for whatever puppet porno he was making next. you hate how he used you as a pawn in a sick, fucked up social game.
you hate how he never let you out of the house, and if you snuck out, you'd get your ass beaten later. you hate how he would summon you to strife and no matter how badly you wanted to run, you couldn't, so you slumped to the rooftop over and over again. he left you feeling queasy when you were around him, and he knew this, and it brought him joy.
you used to pray to gods you didn't even believe in for your situation to change.
in present days, you don’t worry about that, as it’s nothing but a past worry. the meteor got to him years prior, so you no longer needed to worry about him physically harming you anymore. ..technically. timeline shenanigans never fail to make the world more complex. that doesn't change the fact that he left a scar in your brain that never fully healed. some days, you’d remember his voice saying his common guilt trips and something in your heart ached.
now does not seem to be one of those kind days where your brain graces you with no memories. countless instances of your bro saying you are nothing but a hole in his pocket, a nusiance to his entire being, and telling you to be glad he puts a roof over your head circulate in your mind. you pay absolutely no mind to it and don't let the memories get to you.
..obviously, you are lying. it was about time for those self destructive habits to have a comeback. it happens annually around this time period. sucks that it brews and lasts for a month at the least.
you think it’s getting a bit bad again. you are scared. you’ve found ways to avoid substantial damage when you are seeking pain to ground yourself, but sometimes, a loose urge to cause more major harm pops up.
you recently realized you’ve slowly been pulling away and isolating from everyone. it’s a slow event because you never can truly stop fucking talking. it’s your worst habit. no one fucking cares for your ramblings, so you don’t know why you still blabber on and on about things people don’t care about.
you really want to give up on all your relationships sometimes. they are hard to manage, especially when you consistently convince yourself no one actually values your presence. maybe the feeling is justified– for fucks sake, a lot of your messages are flat out ignored with an empty “i’ll read later” thrown over the wound it caused. that “later” almost never comes, and that’s just what you expect anymore.
are you even worth keeping as a companion? you have to ask yourself that. you always try to put everyone before yourself in an emotional regard and it never pays off. you end up feeling like you aren’t able to feel around anyone and recluse into your pity. you think the people in your life only keep you around for a shoulder to lean on. you don’t think you bring others genuine joy.
not to mention, you have subconsciously been teetering towards the edge of restricting your intake again. your appetite has went down, causing you to eat less, and you never can ignore that once you notice it. something in the back of your brain sees that as an opportunity, and you find it sickening.