Blurry Face (Yandere Ticci Toby x reader): 1 ⚠️next chapters on other account⚠️

/8/T҉H҉E҉ C҉R҉E҉E҉P҉S҉

σ¢тσвєя 1ѕт, 2008

Your eyes were dead,
glazed over with a fuzzy look to them.
No hope nor happiness
seemed to flicker behind them.

You looked dead in general.
Your body hunched over as you pressed your knees against your chest on the top of the dark staircase.

Not to mention, you felt dead.
God, you were always like this when you were at home...
the place that you seemed to dread the most going to.
Honestly you would rather be at Lyra's or at least sneaking anywhere else... you were desperate to get away from this place that seemed to drain you of all sanity.
What could you say?
Your home was too small for your
claustrophobic ass and everything was either dark brown or mustard yellow; giving you a not-so-wanted,
nostalgic sensation.
Oh... and let's not get started on the fact that you were almost always alone because your mom was busy.

Yeah, busy probably sucking dicks or some shit.

"_________!"
Speaking of the devil.

Your lingered over your mom who stood impatiently at the bottom of the staircase.
Boy was she a frightening woman.
With narrow eyes and a body that would make the Kardashians cry.

"What?" Your voice was a little too bland for even your own liking.

"Honey... can you do me a favour?"
Here we go...

"What? If it includes talking to dad—"

"It's not. I just want you to get some stuff from the store."
She held a wrinkled up grocery list that you could barely see.

You got to your feet and made your way to the bottom of the stairs, a dizzy haze drifting over you.
You grabbed the paper from her hands and fished some leftover money out of the back pocket of your shorts.

"Please, be careful, a lot of children have gone missing
and I lo-...
I can't let that happen to you."
You let out a little sound that seemed to be across the lines of 'mhm' as you made your way out the door.

Whatever your mother said seemed to bounce right off of you.
Especially the well known phrase, 'act your age!'

Fine, I wanna kashoot myself;
hand me that Capri sun, loser!
This ain't fucking shamu!

You stepped out onto the wooden, flower pot cluttered veranda.

"Hey, kid!"
You snapped your head to your right.
On the driveway of the brick, Victorian house that alway scared you to death there was a moving truck.
Beside it was a man, he was tall, probably scoring a good 6'4' or at least something close to that.
The guy looked pretty much like every other average man here though;
with light brown hair, and a growing in moustache.
The clothes he wore were pretty basic too, a black tee and denim jeans that had grass stains at the knees.

"Um... hi! The name's Brian Thomas, I just moved in. Can you help me with some boxes?"

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ρяєѕєит тιмє

In front of the computer, you laid there completely passed out. Your head propped up by your arms and your heart beat slow and steady inside your chest.