𝑫𝒚𝒔𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒂 || 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘚𝘔𝘗

12: SELFISH

━━ YOU HAD YET TO RECOVER,

but that was expected.

They say healing takes time, but how much time?

You rarely left your makeshift house on the outskirts of L'manberg. It was poorly built, but all you did was lay in bed, so it worked in that sense.

You kept the blinds drawn. You didn't want to go outside; you didn't want to remember a world without him. You drowned it out, everything, everybody. When grieving, the last thing you wanted to hear was things like "it'll get better," "it just takes time," "you'll be okay."

Those words weren't comforting, and they were far from the truth. It doesn't get better. They don't know the pain you're going through.

They don't understand what losing him felt like. It felt like a part of you was missing, and all that was there was nothing. It was void of anything, and it felt empty, and nothing would ever fit in its place again. No matter how closely it resembles it, it would never fit just right.

Every time you remembered, it was like someone squeezed your heart as you choked back your tears and wrapped yourself in your blankets tighter.

It was stupid because, as everyone said: "Wilbur died long before this."

It was so stupid, so absurd. You knew they were right. All this crying, this denial? — It was pointless, but you couldn't stop it. You couldn't bring yourself to step out into the world and even check on your brother or your friends.

And they seemed to get the message and left you to your sorrows.

A knock on the door contradicts that.

"(Y/N)?" They call out, keeping the door closed.

You groan in response, keeping your back to the door and gazing blankly at the wall.

They sigh, opening the door and staring at your back.

"What do you want?" You ask.

Quackity sits on the edge of your bed, looking at his shoes. "I - uh," he coughs. "It's been a few weeks. We're prepping for Schlatt's funeral."

Funeral?

You scoff.

The last thing Schlatt deserved was a funeral. They'll give the tyrant a funeral, the one who caused all this destruction, a proper burial.

But Wilbur? The one who built this country from nothing? Does he get anything? No, he doesn't. He gets a few spits on his grave, all because of one action when Schlatt made multiple.

Your dad gets a funeral, and Wilbur barely gets a grave.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Quackity fiddles with his hands in his lap. "Because you're his daughter."