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Another dream, another nightmare. Another sleep, another scare. Their poor heart could only take so much.
They curled up in bed, stuck inside after a bad battle that left them both wounded and sick. They felt useless. So fucking useless.
This one was much of the same. Nostalgic environment, and nostalgic feelings. A school yard. Kids huddled around while child Parker was off to the side, drawing.
Nobody really wanted them there. So they distanced themself. For the longest time.
“My, not many included you, did they~?” A feminine voice rang out.
Parker turned to see a radiant woman, who was practically and almost literally glowing. “Not…not really.” They mumbled in response.
“A pity. You had so much to share….but no place to share it.” She smiled.
“Yeah….s-something like that.” They fidget with their shirt. A blue one their friend got them. Were they still friends?
“It’s really disheartening to see you like this my dear~” she lifts their face to look up at her. “What you need is to fit in, to be like them… right?”
“I guess…yeah. But I’ll never fit in…” they sigh, “I’m like, half bird. And…”
“And you don’t think like them. You never have, love.”
“I know.”
The woman chuckles, walking with Parker through the fuzzy memories. Seeing all the times Parker was both explicitly and implicitly left out.
“You get to have no fun….all by your lonesome?” The woman laughed “truly pathetic”
She turned to them, “what you need….is perfection. And I can give it to you.”
“…you can?” They lit up, it could be a good thing, right? “You can make me better? F-fit in and be liked?”
“Well of course~ I wouldn’t have suggested it if I couldn’t.” The angelic woman outstretched her hand, “you just need to EMBRACE ME.” Her body turned a grotesque blood red as it shaped and morphed into a horrific thing. Hatred.
“AH!!” Parker turned and ran.
But running in nightmares does nothing. And it was getting closer and closer. Slowly approaching them before one of its nasty claws grazed their shoulder.
…
…
!!!
They sat up quickly, in a cold sweat. Their breath heaved as their trembling body moved to stand.
They ripped off their large hoodie, putting their hair up. They couldn’t move from that spot though. Not in a way that was productive. So they sat back down, their hands gripping the bedsheets.
They didn’t know how or why it happens more now. But they cried. Tears rolled down their face before they buried it into a pillow, sobbing.
Their mind was against them. Their mind was their enemy. They felt useless, gullible, weird and out of place.
“Stupid…” they muttered. They really felt that way. How could they be so charmed by the bastard who haunts their reflection?
Did they even know what their face looked like anymore?
…
They dare not check.
They sniffled, sitting up and putting their hoodie back on. They looked over at that worn plushie of theirs. Shelly fossilian.
They picked up the tan shell toon plush, feeling the fabric under their fingers.
“You weren’t very popular.” they sighed, “you were weird and excluded too.” They wiped their tears.
“…I hope you found better friends, Shelly.” They hugged the plushie. As childish as it was, it brought them the smallest semblance of comfort.
They curled back up, not to go to sleep, but to calm down enough to take care of themself.
They took deep, albeit shaky breaths. Using the things that helped them in their childhood now. And for now, that was enough.
…
They felt pathetic for using such childish methods to feel better. They hadn’t really changed, had they? Just the same naive child who thinks people are their friends.
But…if that was really the case, why was their phone buzzing with messages from people they had met on their journey? Why did their call cards tremble as if anticipating to be called to aid them?
They were loved. They *were* loved. And it wasn’t artificial or fake or even a dare. People did like them for who they were…
They got up and put on their slippers. It made them happy just to wear them because they looked like Terry.
….
There was a knock on the door. They padded over and opened it to see Terry!
“Ah—“ they cleared their voice, “morning, Terry…”
“Morning, goober.” He walked inside, putting the food he brought with him on the table, “you hungry?”
“…yeah” they smiled, sitting next to him.
They were loved, and they didn’t need to fit in. They didn’t need to be perfect.