"Cross-X" Origin of Leo Fincher [Creepypasta Backstory]

LXVII-8

Leo went to bed fighting tears that night, tears full of anger, sadness and stress. At this point he felt like dying was the only way to make everything stop, but he was too scared to think about that, in fear of what he could actually be capable of doing to either himself or others.

The anger flooded him but the sadness and constant feeling of emptiness won over quickly, resulting in him silently starting to cry.

He didn't like to cry anymore, as it made him feel invalid and weak, however he just couldn't help it at some points.

That morning he avoided Ronnie completely. He just couldn't get that image out of his head, the one he had of Ronnie last night. In fact he had a few nightmares about it as well.

Susie was up and making toast for the two, as if she wasn't just out cold the day before. She seemed fine but the heavy bags under her already dark, dull eyes told another story.

Leo shoved a piece of jelly toast into his mouth and held it like that as he pulled on his backpack. The bottle of pills fell out of his bag pocket, alerting Susie.

"I don't think you should be bringing those to school, Leo." She stated as the boy picked them up and put them into his jacket pocket. "It'll be fine." he remarked, completely rebelling against her opinion.

"anyways, gotta go—" he turned to leave before Susie spoke again. "You're walking today? I thought I was driving both you and Ronnie, like I have been."

Leo nodded and finished up the toast. "I'm getting a head start I guess." He then left the house.

Leo did indeed walk to school that day, taking what was so special with him, the medication—

He's been dosing high on those things like they were candy, not actual medical drugs.
He didn't care, as it made him feel care free, loopy even.

Leo left Susie in distraught, knowing he'll probably regret his decision later on..

He still yet to tell her about Johnathan, but honestly, he was sick of relying on others to help him, finally planning to take these things on with his own hands, his way.

No one else's.