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They were gone.
Green knew this. It was a fact. This was the fifth time this week he had come home, and this was the fifth time this week he sat in the dirt for hours waiting for someone, anyone, to come back.
He checked their rooms five hours ago. They were dusty and all their usual equipment was gone. He checked again an hour ago just to make sure he somehow didn’t miss it. Still empty. It was still quiet. It was still cold.
The only noise was the quiet buzz of the roach crystal as it charged his laptop. He was sitting with his knees high, resting his arms on top of them, burying his face in his arms, and using his wings as a makeshift blanket. His lower arms clutched his stomach as it growled at him.
Ignoring the noise was second nature to him now. The stinging of that hunger was a familiar pain at this point. It was so easy to skip meals and rely on junk food, especially food he could snack on while editing. Still…
His mandibles and palps twitched. His antennae lowered as his eyes drifted shut. He felt so tired lately. He missed the meals and food Blue would bring for him. He could practically taste it, and he decided to space out. There was nothing but the buzz of the crystal behind him, and he hoped if he tried hard enough, maybe he could convince his body he wasn’t hungry.
After a few minutes of nothing but pure imagination and fingers digging into his chitin, he could safely conclude his body wasn’t that stupid. Sighing, he let go of his legs and lied down on his side. He opened his eyes to stare at the assortment of items he surrounded himself with.
“I hate you,” he mumbled as he stared at the collection of paper and pens. “I hate you for punching me and for throwing me out.”
Unsurprisingly the items didn’t move. Or talk back. The others he had grabbed, a used bottle with that stupid swamp grass crammed in it, some nerd tool with wires that he wrapped around it, and a bag of plant food with a yellow headband tied around. Green frowned as he looked away.
“I’m sorry for going through your things and using them for this,” he mumbled quietly. “But I really need this and y’all aren’t here.” He added, curling a little into himself. It was the closest he could get to hugging someone.
More silence answered him. “It’s not like you can hate me anymore. You already left. I didn’t even get a chance to apologize.”
He could taste something bitter in his mouth. He laughed at that, a laugh that was quiet and that ended in a light cry. “Why am I trying to apologize? You were all the ones that left— and for what? A prank? It’s so funny when it’s done to me, but the second I’m the one having fun it’s unacceptable,” he hissed to the items.
There was still no response. He wished there was.
“I had a chance at my passion and it got ruined because nobody would even consider helping me. I never got an apology, and I’m still here. Still waiting for any of you to come back so I can say I’m sorry! And I don’t even know why!” He starts shouting as he rolls onto his back. He laughs almost hysterically as he moves his upper arms to his face. “Red got to be an explorer, Blue gets their garden and potions, Yellow even got to keep a literal artifact that doesn’t even belong to her! I only came here to stay with you all— I just didn’t want to be alone and I couldn’t even have that!”
He could feel tears well up. He shut his eyes tight and dug his palms into his eyes and began furiously wiping at them. “And now I’m alone. You all just. Left me,” that laughter dies into a mumble.
He lies on his back for a bit longer. He finally opens his eyes and looks at the roof. Any other location and he would’ve seen stars or the moon. Not here. “Why did I follow you all to a shithole. Why am I even here?”
To apologize, his mind supplied. He frowned.
He sat back up, and looked at the items around him. It’s still quiet. There's still nobody here. “I beat a record,” he mumbled like nothing before had even happened. He pulled his knees to his chest and hugged himself.
Like how they all hugged Red after the incident with Herobrine. Like how they all hugged each other whenever anything bad happened to remind each other they were still there. That they weren’t leaving.
He kept talking to avoid dwelling on that. “That dumb poison challenge or whatever ’s called. I did it and I made it further than anybody else. I complete it.” He spoke like it was something to be proud of, like it wasn’t a trophy of idiocy. His eyes drifted to the tool with the wires on it.
“…I wanted to do it with you, Yellow. Since you actually use that junk with your medals to make yourself stronger. I thought it would’ve been fun.”
No response. He sighed.
“It was kind of cool. Most people don’t get past the second item. I went through all nine. After the danger dish, I couldn’t even taste how gross it all was.” Green chuckled a little to himself. “I still can’t taste anything. Nothing feels filling, either. The funniest thing about that challenge was that I ate it all. Three mushrooms, two fucked inedible bowls of mistakes, an entire meal themed around poison, a raw spud, even an entire cake and I was still hungry.”
His eyes flick over to the bottle.
“I miss your cooking,” he states bluntly. He feels a tear betray him and roll down his cheek. “I don’t know how you do it. Every time I get ingredients and tell myself I’m going to make myself something nice, I have to make a video. And then I’m either too tired or don’t have the time to.”
His stomach growled again. He sighed and lazily pulled himself to his feet. “Come on. I’m hoping you have leftovers.” He grabbed the items and took them with him.
As he picked them up and began walking, he couldn’t help but hope they’d come back. That they’d walk on him doing this absurd thing and question what was wrong with him and ask if he was okay. That way he could just fall apart and they’d be there for him.
Instead he approached the table they all ate on. Nobody was with him, so he set everyone up in their usual seats. Keeping to his word, he turned around and moved towards Blue’s room to look for any leftovers.
There were only a few ingredients. Looks like they took the food with them. Sighing, Green grabbed what he could. It was nothing but a few expired mushrooms and some stale leaves. He took it back to the table, and stared at it.
“Looks great, Blue,” he dully said and then waited.
Blue would talk about the recipe and what they tried differently. She always sounded so excited whenever talking about the process, and it always tasted so good and filling. While they ate they’d talk about whatever they wanted to do next.
Green quietly took a bite out of the leaves. He couldn’t taste anything. He continued to chew without thought. He couldn’t tell if he was grateful or not that he couldn’t taste this. “I’m getting up,” he plainly stated after he finished his plate. He was still hungry.
He didn’t know why that was the only thing he could focus on. Maybe he was losing his mind. Maybe someone smarter than him would say it was a distraction to cope with guilt and loneliness. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped some meals and maybe this was his body getting revenge on him.
None of that stuck with him. His stomach fucking hurt and nobody was here and the walk out of this awful place he calls a home is long. He decided to wander through everyone’s room. He already fucked up their stuff by taking out what he did before. It’s not like they can hate him any more.
It’s not like they’re coming back.
He checked Red’s room. There were a few stashed sweets in there that Green found underneath Reuben’s treats. He hesitated as he grabbed the baked goods. That hesitation didn’t last long as that familiar pain was brought back in his stomach. He wished he could’ve tasted them, and for a moment he genuinely debated Reuben’s treats. He ate poison and trash before. How much lower can he get? Everyone already hates him. They made it clear he’s not worth staying for.
Besides that hunger was incessant and it hurt. Green at least made sure to check what was in them, and upon confirming it was nothing but spider meat and aphid eggs, he ate them. They tasted like everything else.
He still was so . Fucking. H ungry.
Yellow didn’t have anything. Of course she wouldn’t. She’s known to skip meals and gets personal deliveries whenever she’s too caught up on whatever project she has going on. Must be nice to ha ve someone car e. Eventually he found her poison stash, along with the medals she wore alongside them to prevent getting sick. He ignored the medals and began chewing on the danger shrooms as he moved. He didn’t need those medals.
Blue’s was next. She had to have something. Anything. He knows he just checked just a few minutes ago, but he didn’t care. She was the food bug. She always had some shit. Instead all he found was her little potions, and none of them were labeled.
There was no hesitation. If she wanted them, she would’ve brought them. So why not have the hated “friend” dispose of the trash! He probably should’ve known not to drink random potions his friend brew, but he didn’t care. All he needed was that hunger to stop and it felt like it was only getting worse. Like every crumb was just another reminder of how little he actually ate.
He didn’t know what was wrong with him. The last potion slipped through his fingers as he stumbled into Second’s room. The glass broke on the floor and he didn’t even notice.
He practically fucking tore through the room. He was starving and he needed something, and he couldn’t. Find. Anything. He ruined Second’s bed, threw everything he had off of the shelves they put up together, even looked under the bed and everywhere just for anything.
He clawed at his stomach. His brain felt so scrambled and broken that without thinking he found himself back at the table. He just needed something. Anything.
His eyes drifted to the empty potion bottle with that swamp grass shoved inside. And then to the plant food which he knew consisted mostly of dried meat. Then the paper which was made of thin grass.
He already beat the record. He could stop anytime he wanted. He beat the fucking record but it wasn’t enough. He needed to make a video good enough for his fans, he couldn’t risk losing them too. But really all he could think about was that fucking hunger. Everytime he thought it was getting better, his body would reject it all and he would vomit. Even if he told himself he’d stop if he vomited he just couldn’t. He’d start if again until there was nothing left to eat.
He blink ed . An d it was all go ne .
The potion bottle was shattered on the table, the grass in it was gone, the pens had been knocked to the ground and the paper was nowhere to be seen. There were shreds of the plant food bag and barely anything left in it, and he found himself literally chewing on a fucking wrench.
He dropped it.
He dropped it and paused, his broken and fucked up brain processing it all. What was wrong with him? He gagged a few times in an attempt to get it all out, because half of that was barely even food. He stood over the table gagging for what felt like forever, desperately trying to undo what he just did, but instead nothing came back up. All he succeeded in was exhausting himself.
There was a new sound that he could hear, and all it was was his own stupid sobs. He grabbed what he could of the stupid items he stole from his friends and just held them close while he lied on the ground. He didn’t care if the glass dug into his chitin, he clutched it while trying his best to imagine they were actually his friends.
“Please just come back, I need you guys, I’m sorry—“ he sobbed to nobody but himself. He hated this, he hated himself, he just wanted them back and he didn’t even know where they went.
He felt like he was in his pieces. He hasn’t been able to think straight for weeks and he felt like he was losing his mind. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted them to see him like this.
He wasn’t even sure if they wanted to see him.