Work Text:
Pencil. My name is Pencil. It’s the name
lazily scribbled down on the worksheets
that haunt me. It’s the name listed on the attendance
register, it’s the name of a former leader, it’s my name.
It’s been a few months since our grand escape, yet I
haven’t been getting better. Liy has been
getting better, so why can’t I? Why is
there a strange feeling in my chest
when I see the number ‘four’? Just
saying it makes me gag. I don’t feel
normal. I feel, what, unsafe on this
team? My alliance was everything I
had, but now they’re just shattered
fragments in my memories that pop
up now and again. Now, I’m just the
’new rejoiner’, the ‘failed leader’ and
the ‘villain’. But I don’t really think it
is true at all. I’m not a ‘villain’ per se,
just somebody who lost everything.
When others lose things, they are
sympathised with, but not me
apparently. I lost everything
because of him, but what
do I get for my suffering
besides dirty glances?
They say “you need
to work as a team
member” but I
am no mere
member.
Ah, but what can I do? People hate the sinners and not the sins, right? I’m so desperate — so pathetic — but I’d rather rot in Hell than go back there. And if they ever tried to listen to me, they’d just laugh and point. They'd never get it, because they’ve never lost everything.