Are You Bored Yet?

"Mom..."

"Mom?"

.......

"Mom??"

"What!" she snapped. The small child reared back in fear, afraid of their mother when she was angry.

"Can-" the child's voice shook, they didn't know why. Their mother had never truly done anything to warrant the fear in their voice... but it was present nonetheless. This time with a bit more composure, they ask, "Can I go outside and play with my friends?"

Their mother looks at them, staring deep into their innocent eyes with a word the small kid couldn't quite put into words. The mother sighs, "Why would you want to go outside with them?" she takes a drag from her cigarette and blows the smoke out toward her child, "Those children aren't like you."

The child coughed out the noxious air and looked up at their mother, perplexed by what she could have meant by that.

"They're filthy," she put it quite plainly. "We won't be living here for long anyways. Best not to get attached... to anyone." She took another long inhale of smoke like it was an obnoxious obligation that she knew she couldn't stand to live without acting on. "Attachments are why the world is so incompetent. It would be simpler if everyone thought rationally and without feelings, or love."

The small child blinked up, trying to hold their breath around the horrid smoke that they hated so fiercely. "What about Daddy?" their voice weak as they spoke out, "Don't you love him?"

The mother laughed coldly. "Of course I don't honey."

A strange feeling muddled itself in the kid's body. It felt like they couldn't quite breathe in the air around them.

"It was just a logical engagement. We were both beneficial toward each other's goals."

"Or maybe you were both drunk and had sex." An older woman with bright white hair walked into the kitchen room.

"You know that's not what happened, Mom," the child's mother said to the older gray woman.

"Oh really?" An argument began to play out and the small child slipped away, not wanting to hear any more yelling today than necessary.

They walked solemnly but with quickened steps toward their room before plopping on their bed and staring blankly at the boring ceiling. Off-white. The ceiling was off-white, something their mother hated and had yelled at their father for on many occasions. She wanted it plain white. She wanted it "perfect," or whatever perfect meant to her standards. She had high standards for every aspect of not only her life but the lives of her child and spouse as well. It was quite plainly, "FUCKING EXHAUSTING!" the child punched the wall as they yelled, knowing that nobody would notice and if they had, they wouldn't care enough to come to check what had happened.

A sudden noise shook the child from their blank and frustrated stare.

Jolting up they sat up from the bed looking toward the source of the noise. A figure stood at the window. It was another child, blond, with big brown eyes, and a cheeky smile.

With a confused look, the child stood up from the bed and went to the window, opening it. The boy outside offered up a grin before saying, "I just moved in here and my mom sent me out to find friends." He looked to be about ten, just two years older than the child inside the room.

The child inside the room looked at the boy with furrowed brows and perplexedly pursed lips. "So you knocked on a stranger's window?"

"I-" he went to defend himself but laughed instead. "I guess I'm not the brightest," he giggled. The child wasn't certain why but they felt some sort of heat rise in their chest, but it wasn't anger like they found to be often boiling up inside. No. It was something different, something they couldn't quite pin down. "Anyways..." he drawled out, "Want to come play with me? We've got this cool new swingset my Dad just put up!"

The child felt anger rise back up, "No," they said coldly. They didn't know why they were angry, it was just second nature. Snapping at everyone around them was all they truly knew how to do, after all, it was exactly what their parents had done to them.

"But," the boy stuttered, "PLEASEEEE!" he begged.

The child's eye twitched irritably.

"PLEASEEEEEEEE" He continued and something told the child that he would not give up until his demands were met.

"Fine," they huffed.

"YAY!"

"Now, back up so I can climb out of the window."

The boy looked confused, "Why not just meet me out by your front door?"

The kid hesitated vocally as half of their leg was already hanging outside of the window. "Because it's just easier this way," they said, not caring to explain that their mother had already said no to them leaving the house.

"Oh," he said plainly, "That makes sense," he beamed before scooping up the other child's hand. "C'mon! My house is just across the street!" The kid flinched at his hold but went along with it anyway. "I'm Easton! What's your name?" he asked as they sprinted hand-in-hand.

"Y/n."

---

Abruptly I woke up. Sweat was drenching my entire body as it shook violently. As I took a few breaths and calmed myself, I shook my head. "I guess even then you always got what you wanted, Easton. I looked at his hoodie discarded on the floor having previously been worn by Wilbur, and what seemed like a lifetime ago myself.

A/n

This chapter is purposefully just focusing on Y/n. I do not support Wilbur or his actions and from here on out I do not want to associate Character Wilbur from the Dream Smp with Wilbur Soot the content creator. I will be attempting to finish this story as best as I can just because so much effort has been already put forth into this.

HOWEVER

This is not about me. This will never be about me.

I'm simply finishing it for those who want C!Wilbur to have a complete ending.

Feel free to unfollow or block me, I would totally understand if this blog page is upsetting to you due to the continuation of this story. I want everyone to feel comfortable and stay safe.