Lev

As your eyes tiredly blinked open, crusty and achy from the tears that fell, your tired eyes looked around a bit before you spotted your window. You immediately noticed light pouring through your closed blinds. You blinked a few times before the earlier breakdown steadily came back to you. You were still in his hoodie, curled up towards the right edge of your bed. Your arms were wrapped around a pillow with your legs huddled up to your chest.

Your memory seemed to blur and mix together after you found his hoodie. You reach for your phone, but pause upon grabbing it. It wasn’t past noon, right?

You took a deep breath as you pulled the phone towards you, the brightness making you wince once more. Reading the time, you let out a sigh of relief. When did you start to hold your breath…?

The clock on your phone read 9:27am, so you still had a lot of time before you left to go to the forest.

Wait, what were you thinking? You really shouldn’t go, considering it’s decently far into the forest and Toby… Toby was most definitely dead.

The thought alone made your heart wish it would stop. Memories of your mother coming home from work early to tell you what had happened. Memories of the pain in her voice and her on edge body language and how you knew full well from the moment you saw her and heard the heartache in her voice that something terrible had happened.

Tears started to stream down your face yet again as a throbbing headache formed towards the front of your head. You squished your eyes shut, whining softly. You’ve been crying too much, it seemed…

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Before you knew it, you’d made the decision to go. A walk in the forest would most likely do you good, after all. Plus, you wanted to have a picnic date with yourself. You’d play some soft music, lay against a soft picnic blanket covering a patch of grass, and reminisce on all the happy memories. Maybe some more tears will fall, but you were hoping they’d be less sad and more bittersweet.

Getting dressed was absurdly difficult. You went back and forth with yourself on whether or not you should wear something masculine, feminine, or something that’s just plain and simple. The thought kept creeping back into your head.

‘What if he shows up? What if he doesn’t recognize me?’

You always found comfort in your hair length. Toby's always loved your hair, no matter the length. Every time you changed it even a little he would always compliment the change. You smiled fondly at that before tears began to form.

Shaking your head, you did your best to focus on the task at hand. You decided on a feminine outfit for today. Something that was akin to what you’d worn in high school. You knew it was stupid as hell, but a part of you was hoping and begging something, anything up there to let him show up and recognize you.

After getting changed, you finished preparing a snack to bring with you. You’d packed it in some random sushi themed bento box your parents owned. They never use it, so you assumed it’d be fine. The menu this time around was cut up fruit, about ½ cup of cubed cheese, a roll of crackers, and some pepperoni. It was one of Toby’s favorite snack combinations, and yet it was one you never agreed on trying. First time for everything…

Walking over to the fridge one more time, you pulled out a couple water bottles to bring with you. ‘If he’s there, he’d probably want some water…’ It felt stupid, but in the one in a million chance he was alive all this time later… he most definitely would want one. So, you pulled them both out, having made sure to gently put the bento box into your bag. The water bottles went on top, and soon enough you were all done.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Stepping out of your house and locking the door behind you, you rested your forehead against the door for a moment. In what world was this logical? You were acting completely in emotion mind. You knew wise mind would make your life easier, especially now, but you just couldn’t seem to stop your feet from turning you around and having you approach your car.

You knew you’d surely get an earful from those who care about you, but you needed some kind of closure. You knew deep down that he wouldn’t show, but it would be worth it. You’d be able to be alone with your thoughts in an environment that made you feel happy.

Well, you were hoping it would make you happy.

As you checked your phone to see if your parents texted (they didn’t), you looked up at your phone's clock. It was 11:03am, and considering that the forest was about forty five minutes away, you’d best hurry.

As you rushed into your car, you slung your bag into the passenger seat and gently closed the car door. You did a quick mental checklist…

You had your phone, your key ring, headphones, snacks, water bottles, a fully charged portable charger, your shitty laptop, the picnic blanket… everything! You nod to yourself at your rare competence and use the key to start your car. You were thankful both of your parents worked, seeing as you knew the lecture you’d receive for even dreaming of doing this had they been home.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The drive there started out smooth. Little to no traffic, especially considering the small town your parents had moved you to. Moving in your third grade year was awful, especially considering the last town you lived in was much different to this one. The other one was severely overpopulated, meanwhile this one felt as though there was no one who’d accept you. Everyone here was awful.

You frowned, doing your very best to pay attention to the road. Though, your mind slowly began to wander away. Snapping yourself back from zoning out felt harder and harder. Though, with the lack of cars, you made it to the forest safely. No accidents this time, thank goodness.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The walk to the spot you’d made the promise at felt grueling. The closer you got, the more a lingering feeling that you were being watched creeped up your spine. You would continuously look left and right, expecting to see someone or something out in the bramble watching you.

Even through all of that, it never happened. You made it to the spot all in one piece, contrary to your brain's paranoid thinking.

The lush and rather long grass tickled your ankles as you walked through it. The clearing had hardly changed, you even spotted what looked like glitter on the ground. You were positive that it was from some stupid thing the two of you had done while hanging out here, and yet you couldn’t place a finger on what it could possibly be.

Though, upon looking closer, you noticed a bench towards the middle of the clearing. It was covered in leaf litter, pollen, and what looked to be red stainage along one side. It sure as hell was not here the last time you two had come here. You’d last been here a bit before Toby began to lose himself in his hallucinations.

You start to wipe off the leaf litter that covered it, sneezing as the pollen started to abruptly mess with your sinuses as it flew into the air. You sighed, deciding that now would be a good time to set up your picnic.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Setting up was awfully easy. It seemed to you as if doing it on your own was much easier than trying to tag team it with your parents who had no idea what they were doing. But it was just as you had finished up that you heard slow, faint yet clear footsteps in the forest slowly approach you. Your head whips around, but what you saw froze you in place. You stared, not believing what you saw even a smidge.

“Wh… Toby? Toby, is that you?”

Terms used:

Emotion Mind / Wise Mind / Logic Mind: A DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) skill taught with the purpose of reminding oneself that combining emotions and logic is much better than one or the other. Examples would be doing something completely irrational because of emotions with no logic involved(emotion mind), doing something driven purely by beliefs with zero involvement from emotions(logic mind), and using both emotions and logic to navigate something the correct way(wise mind).

You’d never quite processed the damage he’d left on you until now. As you stared at your far too bright phone screen, inadvertently causing your eyes to strain as the darkness engulfed your peripheral vision, you felt that you could cry. It was Toby’s birthday today, and you were wondering if making good on your promise would make you feel better.

Years ago, roughly seven months after you’d gotten together with Toby at the start of your middle school years, you had made him a promise. If one of you, or god forbid both of you, were to move away from this city or something of that kind, you’d meet up in the two of you’s favorite spot in that goddamned forest at around noon. That way, he would never have to spend his birthday alone again. You’d made the promise with a shit eating grin on your face, unbeknownst to what the future held.

Last year, Toby murdered his own father in that awful house. He’d murdered him and then ran into the forest, seemingly never to be seen or heard from again. Authorities had searched that forest high and low, but never seemed to find him- dead or alive. That open ended ending left you crushed, but nothing left you feeling as hurt as you did right now.

The blankets you’d cuddled up in crinkled and shifted around you as you sat up in your bed. You still lived with your parents, considering the shitty housing prices that dominated your city. You’d been dreaming of moving to somewhere with better housing prices, but one thing held you back.

The idea that Toby was still alive somewhere in that forest. The ambiguous closing of the case, while having left you severely depressed, had turned you mean. Angry. You refused to accept it, even when it was plastered all over the news channels your parents left on before leaving to work. They claimed they were just leaving it on so your pets weren’t in silence prior to you waking up, but in the moment it felt to you as if they were taunting you. 

Who the hell did they think they were? They knew what you were going through, knew he’d be all over the news, knew full well that there were a bunch of other channels to leave on, and yet they left the news channel running anyways.

At the time, you would always blow up their phone out of pure anger mere moments after going into the living room. Nowadays, you’ve started bottling everything up, not even giving them the time of day whenever they made ignorant decisions. You’d assumed it meant you had healed, but clearly not.

Remembering all of it left you in tears as you curled up into a ball, trembling from both the cold of your room and the weight of your emotions. Your bed was comfy, but the memories of the rainy days you’d spent tangled up in each other did nothing but haunt you. So, you decided to get up.

As late as it was, you knew your therapist would much rather you find a distraction than do something harmful to yourself. Such began your search for said distraction.

Considering it was just about to become six in the morning, your brain refused to shut up about the bakery your parents had taken the two of you to every now and again. It opens at six am, you’ll never forget that. There was no possible way to. Remembering the way you’d wake up the following day of a sleepover and BEG your parents to take the two of you to that bakery as soon as the alarm clock on your bedside hit six am made your heart hurt.

You missed being a kid. You missed being a kid with him. You missed the shared laughs, the flirtatious “jokes” you’d shoot back and forth in your last year of elementary school, you missed the way he’d get so excited to see you after you’d finally gotten together. He’d act like a puppy, following you around when he could and holding onto you when possible. Sure, the other kids laughed at you two, but nothing could have possibly torn you two apart.

What you didn’t miss, though, was his god awful father. Even though he’d pretend to be all sunshine and rainbows in front of you, you heard the horror stories from Toby. You heard the way his father spoke to him, the way his father hit him and his family. You felt nothing but hatred towards him, always thinking to yourself how he was better off dead. You never meant it, though.

You shook your head, trying to calm your mind. You went over what you were told in your head. How you were told that your best bet for now was to avoid things that could cause you to feel hurt all over again.

How were you supposed to fight the thoughts on his birthday, though? How were you meant to push aside the memories like they’re nothing today?

You slowly moved your legs to hang over your bed, staring at the floor beneath your feet once you’d done so. Your stare was blank, but your mind was racing. You couldn’t slow it down, not like this. You looked towards your closet, having one thing in mind to get out.

Two years ago, Toby had bought you an otter plushie for your birthday. You cherished it, bringing it everywhere with you. It was just the right size to hold in your arms without being a nuisance. It’s what you’d always complain about when it came to stuffed animals, they just never seemed to get the sizing right. Ever. 

As you stood up, your feet felt glued to the floor. You wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in your bed with it, you wanted to sink into the rabbit hole of memories with him… and yet you knew better. You knew how much it would kill you to do that, acknowledging what today was.

And yet, here you were, taking uncertain steps towards your closet. Not just from the darkness that enveloped you, but from the nerves that rattled up your spine. Were you really about to do this? Were you really about to search for that plushie?

…

Yes. 

Yes you were.

After you’d reached the closet door, you felt around for the knob. The chipped paint on the door scraped up against your fingers, but eventually you found one of the knobs. As you stepped back and pulled the door open, you felt tears sting your eyes. You did your best to shake it off, telling yourself that you needed to face the grief if you ever wanted to get better. It did little to actually help, though.

Your eyes scanned your closet, straining yet again as you tried to find it by your limited vision alone. After it very clearly wasn’t working, you began to feel around. 

However, instead of finding the plushie, you found something that hurt worse.

Pulling it out of the darkness of your closet, you stared hard at the clothing item in your hand. You were trying so hard to convince yourself you were seeing things, that this wasn’t what you thought it was. That you were just making things up. Surely the darkness was just playing tricks on you, right?

However, upon stumbling back to your bed, you gently laid the hoodie on your bed and grabbed your phone. As you turned on your phone’s flashlight, wincing a bit at the brightness, the hoodies colors registered in your mind. 

This was it. Toby’s favorite hoodie. The hoodie you were given by his mother a couple days after the officials had told them that they couldn’t find him anywhere in the forest. She’d told you that she knew you’d cherish it.

Sometimes you’re beyond grateful that she’d given it to you, but other times you weren’t so sure.

You stared at the hoodie, debating silently to yourself whether or not you should put it on. For several months, this hoodie was all you wore shirt wise. You refused to just wear a regular t-shirt, even through the heat of summer. You needed something to ground you, seeing as your whole world was crumbling beneath you. Your parents did their best to comfort you themselves, but after asking for therapy and receiving bi-weekly sessions, you felt as though you were just being told to bottle up your emotions.

Once you’d come back down to earth after zoning out, you realized that you’d gone on auto pilot and unconsciously put the hoodie on over your pj shirt. As you stared down at it blankly, you sniffled as tears began to rain down onto the blanket in front of you. You sink to your knees at the edge of your bed, curling up into a ball again and pulling the sleeves closer to you.

You’d never quite processed the damage he’d left on you until now. As you stared at your far too bright phone screen, inadvertently causing your eyes to strain as the darkness engulfed your peripheral vision, you felt that you could cry. It was Toby’s birthday today, and you were wondering if making good on your promise would make you feel better.

Years ago, roughly seven months after you’d gotten together with Toby at the start of your middle school years, you had made him a promise. If one of you, or god forbid both of you, were to move away from this city or something of that kind, you’d meet up in the two of you’s favorite spot in that goddamned forest at around noon. That way, he would never have to spend his birthday alone again. You’d made the promise with a shit eating grin on your face, unbeknownst to what the future held.

Last year, Toby murdered his own father in that awful house. He’d murdered him and then ran into the forest, seemingly never to be seen or heard from again. Authorities had searched that forest high and low, but never seemed to find him- dead or alive. That open ended ending left you crushed, but nothing left you feeling as hurt as you did right now.

The blankets you’d cuddled up in crinkled and shifted around you as you sat up in your bed. You still lived with your parents, considering the shitty housing prices that dominated your city. You’d been dreaming of moving to somewhere with better housing prices, but one thing held you back.

The idea that Toby was still alive somewhere in that forest. The ambiguous closing of the case, while having left you severely depressed, had turned you mean. Angry. You refused to accept it, even when it was plastered all over the news channels your parents left on before leaving to work. They claimed they were just leaving it on so your pets weren’t in silence prior to you waking up, but in the moment it felt to you as if they were taunting you. 

Who the hell did they think they were? They knew what you were going through, knew he’d be all over the news, knew full well that there were a bunch of other channels to leave on, and yet they left the news channel running anyways.

At the time, you would always blow up their phone out of pure anger mere moments after going into the living room. Nowadays, you’ve started bottling everything up, not even giving them the time of day whenever they made ignorant decisions. You’d assumed it meant you had healed, but clearly not.

Remembering all of it left you in tears as you curled up into a ball, trembling from both the cold of your room and the weight of your emotions. Your bed was comfy, but the memories of the rainy days you’d spent tangled up in each other did nothing but haunt you. So, you decided to get up.

As late as it was, you knew your therapist would much rather you find a distraction than do something harmful to yourself. Such began your search for said distraction.

Considering it was just about to become six in the morning, your brain refused to shut up about the bakery your parents had taken the two of you to every now and again. It opens at six am, you’ll never forget that. There was no possible way to. Remembering the way you’d wake up the following day of a sleepover and BEG your parents to take the two of you to that bakery as soon as the alarm clock on your bedside hit six am made your heart hurt.

You missed being a kid. You missed being a kid with him. You missed the shared laughs, the flirtatious “jokes” you’d shoot back and forth in your last year of elementary school, you missed the way he’d get so excited to see you after you’d finally gotten together. He’d act like a puppy, following you around when he could and holding onto you when possible. Sure, the other kids laughed at you two, but nothing could have possibly torn you two apart.

What you didn’t miss, though, was his god awful father. Even though he’d pretend to be all sunshine and rainbows in front of you, you heard the horror stories from Toby. You heard the way his father spoke to him, the way his father hit him and his family. You felt nothing but hatred towards him, always thinking to yourself how he was better off dead. You never meant it, though.

You shook your head, trying to calm your mind. You went over what you were told in your head. How you were told that your best bet for now was to avoid things that could cause you to feel hurt all over again.

How were you supposed to fight the thoughts on his birthday, though? How were you meant to push aside the memories like they’re nothing today?

You slowly moved your legs to hang over your bed, staring at the floor beneath your feet once you’d done so. Your stare was blank, but your mind was racing. You couldn’t slow it down, not like this. You looked towards your closet, having one thing in mind to get out.

Two years ago, Toby had bought you an otter plushie for your birthday. You cherished it, bringing it everywhere with you. It was just the right size to hold in your arms without being a nuisance. It’s what you’d always complain about when it came to stuffed animals, they just never seemed to get the sizing right. Ever. 

As you stood up, your feet felt glued to the floor. You wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in your bed with it, you wanted to sink into the rabbit hole of memories with him… and yet you knew better. You knew how much it would kill you to do that, acknowledging what today was.

And yet, here you were, taking uncertain steps towards your closet. Not just from the darkness that enveloped you, but from the nerves that rattled up your spine. Were you really about to do this? Were you really about to search for that plushie?

…

Yes. 

Yes you were.

After you’d reached the closet door, you felt around for the knob. The chipped paint on the door scraped up against your fingers, but eventually you found one of the knobs. As you stepped back and pulled the door open, you felt tears sting your eyes. You did your best to shake it off, telling yourself that you needed to face the grief if you ever wanted to get better. It did little to actually help, though.

Your eyes scanned your closet, straining yet again as you tried to find it by your limited vision alone. After it very clearly wasn’t working, you began to feel around. 

However, instead of finding the plushie, you found something that hurt worse.

Pulling it out of the darkness of your closet, you stared hard at the clothing item in your hand. You were trying so hard to convince yourself you were seeing things, that this wasn’t what you thought it was. That you were just making things up. Surely the darkness was just playing tricks on you, right?

However, upon stumbling back to your bed, you gently laid the hoodie on your bed and grabbed your phone. As you turned on your phone’s flashlight, wincing a bit at the brightness, the hoodies colors registered in your mind. 

This was it. Toby’s favorite hoodie. The hoodie you were given by his mother a couple days after the officials had told them that they couldn’t find him anywhere in the forest. She’d told you that she knew you’d cherish it.

Sometimes you’re beyond grateful that she’d given it to you, but other times you weren’t so sure.

You stared at the hoodie, debating silently to yourself whether or not you should put it on. For several months, this hoodie was all you wore shirt wise. You refused to just wear a regular t-shirt, even through the heat of summer. You needed something to ground you, seeing as your whole world was crumbling beneath you. Your parents did their best to comfort you themselves, but after asking for therapy and receiving bi-weekly sessions, you felt as though you were just being told to bottle up your emotions.

Once you’d come back down to earth after zoning out, you realized that you’d gone on auto pilot and unconsciously put the hoodie on over your pj shirt. As you stared down at it blankly, you sniffled as tears began to rain down onto the blanket in front of you. You sink to your knees at the edge of your bed, curling up into a ball again and pulling the sleeves closer to you.

You’d never quite processed the damage he’d left on you until now. As you stared at your far too bright phone screen, inadvertently causing your eyes to strain as the darkness engulfed your peripheral vision, you felt that you could cry. It was Toby’s birthday today, and you were wondering if making good on your promise would make you feel better.

Years ago, roughly seven months after you’d gotten together with Toby at the start of your middle school years, you had made him a promise. If one of you, or god forbid both of you, were to move away from this city or something of that kind, you’d meet up in the two of you’s favorite spot in that goddamned forest at around noon. That way, he would never have to spend his birthday alone again. You’d made the promise with a shit eating grin on your face, unbeknownst to what the future held.

Last year, Toby murdered his own father in that awful house. He’d murdered him and then ran into the forest, seemingly never to be seen or heard from again. Authorities had searched that forest high and low, but never seemed to find him- dead or alive. That open ended ending left you crushed, but nothing left you feeling as hurt as you did right now.

The blankets you’d cuddled up in crinkled and shifted around you as you sat up in your bed. You still lived with your parents, considering the shitty housing prices that dominated your city. You’d been dreaming of moving to somewhere with better housing prices, but one thing held you back.

The idea that Toby was still alive somewhere in that forest. The ambiguous closing of the case, while having left you severely depressed, had turned you mean. Angry. You refused to accept it, even when it was plastered all over the news channels your parents left on before leaving to work. They claimed they were just leaving it on so your pets weren’t in silence prior to you waking up, but in the moment it felt to you as if they were taunting you. 

Who the hell did they think they were? They knew what you were going through, knew he’d be all over the news, knew full well that there were a bunch of other channels to leave on, and yet they left the news channel running anyways.

At the time, you would always blow up their phone out of pure anger mere moments after going into the living room. Nowadays, you’ve started bottling everything up, not even giving them the time of day whenever they made ignorant decisions. You’d assumed it meant you had healed, but clearly not.

Remembering all of it left you in tears as you curled up into a ball, trembling from both the cold of your room and the weight of your emotions. Your bed was comfy, but the memories of the rainy days you’d spent tangled up in each other did nothing but haunt you. So, you decided to get up.

As late as it was, you knew your therapist would much rather you find a distraction than do something harmful to yourself. Such began your search for said distraction.

Considering it was just about to become six in the morning, your brain refused to shut up about the bakery your parents had taken the two of you to every now and again. It opens at six am, you’ll never forget that. There was no possible way to. Remembering the way you’d wake up the following day of a sleepover and BEG your parents to take the two of you to that bakery as soon as the alarm clock on your bedside hit six am made your heart hurt.

You missed being a kid. You missed being a kid with him. You missed the shared laughs, the flirtatious “jokes” you’d shoot back and forth in your last year of elementary school, you missed the way he’d get so excited to see you after you’d finally gotten together. He’d act like a puppy, following you around when he could and holding onto you when possible. Sure, the other kids laughed at you two, but nothing could have possibly torn you two apart.

What you didn’t miss, though, was his god awful father. Even though he’d pretend to be all sunshine and rainbows in front of you, you heard the horror stories from Toby. You heard the way his father spoke to him, the way his father hit him and his family. You felt nothing but hatred towards him, always thinking to yourself how he was better off dead. You never meant it, though.

You shook your head, trying to calm your mind. You went over what you were told in your head. How you were told that your best bet for now was to avoid things that could cause you to feel hurt all over again.

How were you supposed to fight the thoughts on his birthday, though? How were you meant to push aside the memories like they’re nothing today?

You slowly moved your legs to hang over your bed, staring at the floor beneath your feet once you’d done so. Your stare was blank, but your mind was racing. You couldn’t slow it down, not like this. You looked towards your closet, having one thing in mind to get out.

Two years ago, Toby had bought you an otter plushie for your birthday. You cherished it, bringing it everywhere with you. It was just the right size to hold in your arms without being a nuisance. It’s what you’d always complain about when it came to stuffed animals, they just never seemed to get the sizing right. Ever. 

As you stood up, your feet felt glued to the floor. You wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in your bed with it, you wanted to sink into the rabbit hole of memories with him… and yet you knew better. You knew how much it would kill you to do that, acknowledging what today was.

And yet, here you were, taking uncertain steps towards your closet. Not just from the darkness that enveloped you, but from the nerves that rattled up your spine. Were you really about to do this? Were you really about to search for that plushie?

…

Yes. 

Yes you were.

After you’d reached the closet door, you felt around for the knob. The chipped paint on the door scraped up against your fingers, but eventually you found one of the knobs. As you stepped back and pulled the door open, you felt tears sting your eyes. You did your best to shake it off, telling yourself that you needed to face the grief if you ever wanted to get better. It did little to actually help, though.

Your eyes scanned your closet, straining yet again as you tried to find it by your limited vision alone. After it very clearly wasn’t working, you began to feel around. 

However, instead of finding the plushie, you found something that hurt worse.

Pulling it out of the darkness of your closet, you stared hard at the clothing item in your hand. You were trying so hard to convince yourself you were seeing things, that this wasn’t what you thought it was. That you were just making things up. Surely the darkness was just playing tricks on you, right?

However, upon stumbling back to your bed, you gently laid the hoodie on your bed and grabbed your phone. As you turned on your phone’s flashlight, wincing a bit at the brightness, the hoodies colors registered in your mind. 

This was it. Toby’s favorite hoodie. The hoodie you were given by his mother a couple days after the officials had told them that they couldn’t find him anywhere in the forest. She’d told you that she knew you’d cherish it.

Sometimes you’re beyond grateful that she’d given it to you, but other times you weren’t so sure.

You stared at the hoodie, debating silently to yourself whether or not you should put it on. For several months, this hoodie was all you wore shirt wise. You refused to just wear a regular t-shirt, even through the heat of summer. You needed something to ground you, seeing as your whole world was crumbling beneath you. Your parents did their best to comfort you themselves, but after asking for therapy and receiving bi-weekly sessions, you felt as though you were just being told to bottle up your emotions.

Once you’d come back down to earth after zoning out, you realized that you’d gone on auto pilot and unconsciously put the hoodie on over your pj shirt. As you stared down at it blankly, you sniffled as tears began to rain down onto the blanket in front of you. You sink to your knees at the edge of your bed, curling up into a ball again and pulling the sleeves closer to you.

You’d never quite processed the damage he’d left on you until now. As you stared at your far too bright phone screen, inadvertently causing your eyes to strain as the darkness engulfed your peripheral vision, you felt that you could cry. It was Toby’s birthday today, and you were wondering if making good on your promise would make you feel better.

Years ago, roughly seven months after you’d gotten together with Toby at the start of your middle school years, you had made him a promise. If one of you, or god forbid both of you, were to move away from this city or something of that kind, you’d meet up in the two of you’s favorite spot in that goddamned forest at around noon. That way, he would never have to spend his birthday alone again. You’d made the promise with a shit eating grin on your face, unbeknownst to what the future held.

Last year, Toby murdered his own father in that awful house. He’d murdered him and then ran into the forest, seemingly never to be seen or heard from again. Authorities had searched that forest high and low, but never seemed to find him- dead or alive. That open ended ending left you crushed, but nothing left you feeling as hurt as you did right now.

The blankets you’d cuddled up in crinkled and shifted around you as you sat up in your bed. You still lived with your parents, considering the shitty housing prices that dominated your city. You’d been dreaming of moving to somewhere with better housing prices, but one thing held you back.

The idea that Toby was still alive somewhere in that forest. The ambiguous closing of the case, while having left you severely depressed, had turned you mean. Angry. You refused to accept it, even when it was plastered all over the news channels your parents left on before leaving to work. They claimed they were just leaving it on so your pets weren’t in silence prior to you waking up, but in the moment it felt to you as if they were taunting you. 

Who the hell did they think they were? They knew what you were going through, knew he’d be all over the news, knew full well that there were a bunch of other channels to leave on, and yet they left the news channel running anyways.

At the time, you would always blow up their phone out of pure anger mere moments after going into the living room. Nowadays, you’ve started bottling everything up, not even giving them the time of day whenever they made ignorant decisions. You’d assumed it meant you had healed, but clearly not.

Remembering all of it left you in tears as you curled up into a ball, trembling from both the cold of your room and the weight of your emotions. Your bed was comfy, but the memories of the rainy days you’d spent tangled up in each other did nothing but haunt you. So, you decided to get up.

As late as it was, you knew your therapist would much rather you find a distraction than do something harmful to yourself. Such began your search for said distraction.

Considering it was just about to become six in the morning, your brain refused to shut up about the bakery your parents had taken the two of you to every now and again. It opens at six am, you’ll never forget that. There was no possible way to. Remembering the way you’d wake up the following day of a sleepover and BEG your parents to take the two of you to that bakery as soon as the alarm clock on your bedside hit six am made your heart hurt.

You missed being a kid. You missed being a kid with him. You missed the shared laughs, the flirtatious “jokes” you’d shoot back and forth in your last year of elementary school, you missed the way he’d get so excited to see you after you’d finally gotten together. He’d act like a puppy, following you around when he could and holding onto you when possible. Sure, the other kids laughed at you two, but nothing could have possibly torn you two apart.

What you didn’t miss, though, was his god awful father. Even though he’d pretend to be all sunshine and rainbows in front of you, you heard the horror stories from Toby. You heard the way his father spoke to him, the way his father hit him and his family. You felt nothing but hatred towards him, always thinking to yourself how he was better off dead. You never meant it, though.

You shook your head, trying to calm your mind. You went over what you were told in your head. How you were told that your best bet for now was to avoid things that could cause you to feel hurt all over again.

How were you supposed to fight the thoughts on his birthday, though? How were you meant to push aside the memories like they’re nothing today?

You slowly moved your legs to hang over your bed, staring at the floor beneath your feet once you’d done so. Your stare was blank, but your mind was racing. You couldn’t slow it down, not like this. You looked towards your closet, having one thing in mind to get out.

Two years ago, Toby had bought you an otter plushie for your birthday. You cherished it, bringing it everywhere with you. It was just the right size to hold in your arms without being a nuisance. It’s what you’d always complain about when it came to stuffed animals, they just never seemed to get the sizing right. Ever. 

As you stood up, your feet felt glued to the floor. You wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in your bed with it, you wanted to sink into the rabbit hole of memories with him… and yet you knew better. You knew how much it would kill you to do that, acknowledging what today was.

And yet, here you were, taking uncertain steps towards your closet. Not just from the darkness that enveloped you, but from the nerves that rattled up your spine. Were you really about to do this? Were you really about to search for that plushie?

…

Yes. 

Yes you were.

After you’d reached the closet door, you felt around for the knob. The chipped paint on the door scraped up against your fingers, but eventually you found one of the knobs. As you stepped back and pulled the door open, you felt tears sting your eyes. You did your best to shake it off, telling yourself that you needed to face the grief if you ever wanted to get better. It did little to actually help, though.

Your eyes scanned your closet, straining yet again as you tried to find it by your limited vision alone. After it very clearly wasn’t working, you began to feel around. 

However, instead of finding the plushie, you found something that hurt worse.

Pulling it out of the darkness of your closet, you stared hard at the clothing item in your hand. You were trying so hard to convince yourself you were seeing things, that this wasn’t what you thought it was. That you were just making things up. Surely the darkness was just playing tricks on you, right?

However, upon stumbling back to your bed, you gently laid the hoodie on your bed and grabbed your phone. As you turned on your phone’s flashlight, wincing a bit at the brightness, the hoodies colors registered in your mind. 

This was it. Toby’s favorite hoodie. The hoodie you were given by his mother a couple days after the officials had told them that they couldn’t find him anywhere in the forest. She’d told you that she knew you’d cherish it.

Sometimes you’re beyond grateful that she’d given it to you, but other times you weren’t so sure.

You stared at the hoodie, debating silently to yourself whether or not you should put it on. For several months, this hoodie was all you wore shirt wise. You refused to just wear a regular t-shirt, even through the heat of summer. You needed something to ground you, seeing as your whole world was crumbling beneath you. Your parents did their best to comfort you themselves, but after asking for therapy and receiving bi-weekly sessions, you felt as though you were just being told to bottle up your emotions.

Once you’d come back down to earth after zoning out, you realized that you’d gone on auto pilot and unconsciously put the hoodie on over your pj shirt. As you stared down at it blankly, you sniffled as tears began to rain down onto the blanket in front of you. You sink to your knees at the edge of your bed, curling up into a ball again and pulling the sleeves closer to you.

You’d never quite processed the damage he’d left on you until now. As you stared at your far too bright phone screen, inadvertently causing your eyes to strain as the darkness engulfed your peripheral vision, you felt that you could cry. It was Toby’s birthday today, and you were wondering if making good on your promise would make you feel better.

Years ago, roughly seven months after you’d gotten together with Toby at the start of your middle school years, you had made him a promise. If one of you, or god forbid both of you, were to move away from this city or something of that kind, you’d meet up in the two of you’s favorite spot in that goddamned forest at around noon. That way, he would never have to spend his birthday alone again. You’d made the promise with a shit eating grin on your face, unbeknownst to what the future held.

Last year, Toby murdered his own father in that awful house. He’d murdered him and then ran into the forest, seemingly never to be seen or heard from again. Authorities had searched that forest high and low, but never seemed to find him- dead or alive. That open ended ending left you crushed, but nothing left you feeling as hurt as you did right now.

The blankets you’d cuddled up in crinkled and shifted around you as you sat up in your bed. You still lived with your parents, considering the shitty housing prices that dominated your city. You’d been dreaming of moving to somewhere with better housing prices, but one thing held you back.

The idea that Toby was still alive somewhere in that forest. The ambiguous closing of the case, while having left you severely depressed, had turned you mean. Angry. You refused to accept it, even when it was plastered all over the news channels your parents left on before leaving to work. They claimed they were just leaving it on so your pets weren’t in silence prior to you waking up, but in the moment it felt to you as if they were taunting you. 

Who the hell did they think they were? They knew what you were going through, knew he’d be all over the news, knew full well that there were a bunch of other channels to leave on, and yet they left the news channel running anyways.

At the time, you would always blow up their phone out of pure anger mere moments after going into the living room. Nowadays, you’ve started bottling everything up, not even giving them the time of day whenever they made ignorant decisions. You’d assumed it meant you had healed, but clearly not.

Remembering all of it left you in tears as you curled up into a ball, trembling from both the cold of your room and the weight of your emotions. Your bed was comfy, but the memories of the rainy days you’d spent tangled up in each other did nothing but haunt you. So, you decided to get up.

As late as it was, you knew your therapist would much rather you find a distraction than do something harmful to yourself. Such began your search for said distraction.

Considering it was just about to become six in the morning, your brain refused to shut up about the bakery your parents had taken the two of you to every now and again. It opens at six am, you’ll never forget that. There was no possible way to. Remembering the way you’d wake up the following day of a sleepover and BEG your parents to take the two of you to that bakery as soon as the alarm clock on your bedside hit six am made your heart hurt.

You missed being a kid. You missed being a kid with him. You missed the shared laughs, the flirtatious “jokes” you’d shoot back and forth in your last year of elementary school, you missed the way he’d get so excited to see you after you’d finally gotten together. He’d act like a puppy, following you around when he could and holding onto you when possible. Sure, the other kids laughed at you two, but nothing could have possibly torn you two apart.

What you didn’t miss, though, was his god awful father. Even though he’d pretend to be all sunshine and rainbows in front of you, you heard the horror stories from Toby. You heard the way his father spoke to him, the way his father hit him and his family. You felt nothing but hatred towards him, always thinking to yourself how he was better off dead. You never meant it, though.

You shook your head, trying to calm your mind. You went over what you were told in your head. How you were told that your best bet for now was to avoid things that could cause you to feel hurt all over again.

How were you supposed to fight the thoughts on his birthday, though? How were you meant to push aside the memories like they’re nothing today?

You slowly moved your legs to hang over your bed, staring at the floor beneath your feet once you’d done so. Your stare was blank, but your mind was racing. You couldn’t slow it down, not like this. You looked towards your closet, having one thing in mind to get out.

Two years ago, Toby had bought you an otter plushie for your birthday. You cherished it, bringing it everywhere with you. It was just the right size to hold in your arms without being a nuisance. It’s what you’d always complain about when it came to stuffed animals, they just never seemed to get the sizing right. Ever. 

As you stood up, your feet felt glued to the floor. You wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in your bed with it, you wanted to sink into the rabbit hole of memories with him… and yet you knew better. You knew how much it would kill you to do that, acknowledging what today was.

And yet, here you were, taking uncertain steps towards your closet. Not just from the darkness that enveloped you, but from the nerves that rattled up your spine. Were you really about to do this? Were you really about to search for that plushie?

…

Yes. 

Yes you were.

After you’d reached the closet door, you felt around for the knob. The chipped paint on the door scraped up against your fingers, but eventually you found one of the knobs. As you stepped back and pulled the door open, you felt tears sting your eyes. You did your best to shake it off, telling yourself that you needed to face the grief if you ever wanted to get better. It did little to actually help, though.

Your eyes scanned your closet, straining yet again as you tried to find it by your limited vision alone. After it very clearly wasn’t working, you began to feel around. 

However, instead of finding the plushie, you found something that hurt worse.

Pulling it out of the darkness of your closet, you stared hard at the clothing item in your hand. You were trying so hard to convince yourself you were seeing things, that this wasn’t what you thought it was. That you were just making things up. Surely the darkness was just playing tricks on you, right?

However, upon stumbling back to your bed, you gently laid the hoodie on your bed and grabbed your phone. As you turned on your phone’s flashlight, wincing a bit at the brightness, the hoodies colors registered in your mind. 

This was it. Toby’s favorite hoodie. The hoodie you were given by his mother a couple days after the officials had told them that they couldn’t find him anywhere in the forest. She’d told you that she knew you’d cherish it.

Sometimes you’re beyond grateful that she’d given it to you, but other times you weren’t so sure.

You stared at the hoodie, debating silently to yourself whether or not you should put it on. For several months, this hoodie was all you wore shirt wise. You refused to just wear a regular t-shirt, even through the heat of summer. You needed something to ground you, seeing as your whole world was crumbling beneath you. Your parents did their best to comfort you themselves, but after asking for therapy and receiving bi-weekly sessions, you felt as though you were just being told to bottle up your emotions.

Once you’d come back down to earth after zoning out, you realized that you’d gone on auto pilot and unconsciously put the hoodie on over your pj shirt. As you stared down at it blankly, you sniffled as tears began to rain down onto the blanket in front of you. You sink to your knees at the edge of your bed, curling up into a ball again and pulling the sleeves closer to you.

You’d never quite processed the damage he’d left on you until now. As you stared at your far too bright phone screen, inadvertently causing your eyes to strain as the darkness engulfed your peripheral vision, you felt that you could cry. It was Toby’s birthday today, and you were wondering if making good on your promise would make you feel better.

Years ago, roughly seven months after you’d gotten together with Toby at the start of your middle school years, you had made him a promise. If one of you, or god forbid both of you, were to move away from this city or something of that kind, you’d meet up in the two of you’s favorite spot in that goddamned forest at around noon. That way, he would never have to spend his birthday alone again. You’d made the promise with a shit eating grin on your face, unbeknownst to what the future held.

Last year, Toby murdered his own father in that awful house. He’d murdered him and then ran into the forest, seemingly never to be seen or heard from again. Authorities had searched that forest high and low, but never seemed to find him- dead or alive. That open ended ending left you crushed, but nothing left you feeling as hurt as you did right now.

The blankets you’d cuddled up in crinkled and shifted around you as you sat up in your bed. You still lived with your parents, considering the shitty housing prices that dominated your city. You’d been dreaming of moving to somewhere with better housing prices, but one thing held you back.

The idea that Toby was still alive somewhere in that forest. The ambiguous closing of the case, while having left you severely depressed, had turned you mean. Angry. You refused to accept it, even when it was plastered all over the news channels your parents left on before leaving to work. They claimed they were just leaving it on so your pets weren’t in silence prior to you waking up, but in the moment it felt to you as if they were taunting you. 

Who the hell did they think they were? They knew what you were going through, knew he’d be all over the news, knew full well that there were a bunch of other channels to leave on, and yet they left the news channel running anyways.

At the time, you would always blow up their phone out of pure anger mere moments after going into the living room. Nowadays, you’ve started bottling everything up, not even giving them the time of day whenever they made ignorant decisions. You’d assumed it meant you had healed, but clearly not.

Remembering all of it left you in tears as you curled up into a ball, trembling from both the cold of your room and the weight of your emotions. Your bed was comfy, but the memories of the rainy days you’d spent tangled up in each other did nothing but haunt you. So, you decided to get up.

As late as it was, you knew your therapist would much rather you find a distraction than do something harmful to yourself. Such began your search for said distraction.

Considering it was just about to become six in the morning, your brain refused to shut up about the bakery your parents had taken the two of you to every now and again. It opens at six am, you’ll never forget that. There was no possible way to. Remembering the way you’d wake up the following day of a sleepover and BEG your parents to take the two of you to that bakery as soon as the alarm clock on your bedside hit six am made your heart hurt.

You missed being a kid. You missed being a kid with him. You missed the shared laughs, the flirtatious “jokes” you’d shoot back and forth in your last year of elementary school, you missed the way he’d get so excited to see you after you’d finally gotten together. He’d act like a puppy, following you around when he could and holding onto you when possible. Sure, the other kids laughed at you two, but nothing could have possibly torn you two apart.

What you didn’t miss, though, was his god awful father. Even though he’d pretend to be all sunshine and rainbows in front of you, you heard the horror stories from Toby. You heard the way his father spoke to him, the way his father hit him and his family. You felt nothing but hatred towards him, always thinking to yourself how he was better off dead. You never meant it, though.

You shook your head, trying to calm your mind. You went over what you were told in your head. How you were told that your best bet for now was to avoid things that could cause you to feel hurt all over again.

How were you supposed to fight the thoughts on his birthday, though? How were you meant to push aside the memories like they’re nothing today?

You slowly moved your legs to hang over your bed, staring at the floor beneath your feet once you’d done so. Your stare was blank, but your mind was racing. You couldn’t slow it down, not like this. You looked towards your closet, having one thing in mind to get out.

Two years ago, Toby had bought you an otter plushie for your birthday. You cherished it, bringing it everywhere with you. It was just the right size to hold in your arms without being a nuisance. It’s what you’d always complain about when it came to stuffed animals, they just never seemed to get the sizing right. Ever. 

As you stood up, your feet felt glued to the floor. You wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in your bed with it, you wanted to sink into the rabbit hole of memories with him… and yet you knew better. You knew how much it would kill you to do that, acknowledging what today was.

And yet, here you were, taking uncertain steps towards your closet. Not just from the darkness that enveloped you, but from the nerves that rattled up your spine. Were you really about to do this? Were you really about to search for that plushie?

…

Yes. 

Yes you were.

After you’d reached the closet door, you felt around for the knob. The chipped paint on the door scraped up against your fingers, but eventually you found one of the knobs. As you stepped back and pulled the door open, you felt tears sting your eyes. You did your best to shake it off, telling yourself that you needed to face the grief if you ever wanted to get better. It did little to actually help, though.

Your eyes scanned your closet, straining yet again as you tried to find it by your limited vision alone. After it very clearly wasn’t working, you began to feel around. 

However, instead of finding the plushie, you found something that hurt worse.

Pulling it out of the darkness of your closet, you stared hard at the clothing item in your hand. You were trying so hard to convince yourself you were seeing things, that this wasn’t what you thought it was. That you were just making things up. Surely the darkness was just playing tricks on you, right?

However, upon stumbling back to your bed, you gently laid the hoodie on your bed and grabbed your phone. As you turned on your phone’s flashlight, wincing a bit at the brightness, the hoodies colors registered in your mind. 

This was it. Toby’s favorite hoodie. The hoodie you were given by his mother a couple days after the officials had told them that they couldn’t find him anywhere in the forest. She’d told you that she knew you’d cherish it.

Sometimes you’re beyond grateful that she’d given it to you, but other times you weren’t so sure.

You stared at the hoodie, debating silently to yourself whether or not you should put it on. For several months, this hoodie was all you wore shirt wise. You refused to just wear a regular t-shirt, even through the heat of summer. You needed something to ground you, seeing as your whole world was crumbling beneath you. Your parents did their best to comfort you themselves, but after asking for therapy and receiving bi-weekly sessions, you felt as though you were just being told to bottle up your emotions.

Once you’d come back down to earth after zoning out, you realized that you’d gone on auto pilot and unconsciously put the hoodie on over your pj shirt. As you stared down at it blankly, you sniffled as tears began to rain down onto the blanket in front of you. You sink to your knees at the edge of your bed, curling up into a ball again and pulling the sleeves closer to you.