Maybe I'll heal

Why?

TW: EATING DISORDER, DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, ABUSE, DEATH, SELF HARM, PANIC ATTACKS, ECT. THIS IS YOUR ONLY TW AS THESE TOPICS WILL BE IN MULTIPLE PARTS OF THE BOOK.

A sickening crash was heard. Tommy curled himself in a ball as he hid under the stairs of the cellar. Bottles smashed against the wooden floors above him.

A gunshot rang out in the crisp and dusty air, a thump followed.

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Tommy flung himself up from the hard orphanage bed. He gasped for air, his chest rising and falling. The blonde glanced over to the window. A stormy sky peered back at him and he checked the clock on the wall for the time; 7:25 AM. Just afterwards, he heard a knock at his door. The blonde flinched but proceeded to open the once locked door.

"Tomathy, get nice clothes on. A family wants to meet you." The woman, Ms. Adelaide spoke. She wore a victorian-style dress that was a rich, muddy brown color with tan accents. She held a candle in her hand that lit up the room. Tommy grimaced at the use of his name. "Yes Ms. Adelaide." He said unamused. She shut his door and he sighed. The boy dragged himself to the rickety old closet that contained 3 outfits and pulled out a brown sweater-vest, a crisp button up shirt, and black dress pants. He put it on, mumbling angrily to himself the entire time, and then went down the creaky steps of the orphanage. "Oh, Tomathy. This is Mr. Watson, go into the foster room with him and his sons and he'll decide if he wants to foster you." Ms. Adelaide said. She led Tommy and the man's family to the room and left.

The child sat akwardly on the kiddie chair across from the man and his sons. "So, Tomathy, what do you like to do?" The man said. "I'm.. Not sure." Tommy mumbled. They had a bland conversation aswell as the twins and him having a hushed talk, most likely about the boy before Phil stood up, presumably going to talk to Ms. Adelaide. Both Phil and his sons had already favored Tommy and felt the need to protect him, and Phil knew he couldn't leave without the boy. Tommy felt a twinge of despair, worrying the man would leave but it was soon blanketed by pride knowing he was the longest running orphan to be denied in a short amount of time. Not exactly something to be proud of, but Tommy pretended it was. His two sons sat akwardly in their chairs. "Uhm... Hi?.." The man said awkwardly. He had long, glossy pink hair that was tied up in a neat braid and pinned up with flowers. Tommy's eyes lingered on his hair as he waved back and the still freakishly tall yet shorter brunette son chuckled. "Hi Tommy, we're gonna be your new brothers!" Tommy's eyes widened. Are they stupid? Why the hell are they so abruptly fostering me?!

"Wait what??" He said outloud, not meaning to speak. He slapped a hand against his mouth before mumbling, "sorry, I forgot to ask permission. excuse me." The older tilted his head. "Permission for what?-" He was cut off by the door opening. Phil walked in with papers in his hands. He had an almost fatherly smile as he walked in. "Alright boys, lets go!" Both sons left, yet Phil lingered. Tommy was looking at his feet, assuming the family was leaving.

"That includes you, come on Tommy!" He said, his bright smile still on his face. Tommy looked up in shock yet followed, suprised. He looked at the orphanage as they walked to the man's car. That was his home. Surely He'll be returned. He couldn't go yet, he'd been there for 8 years. They found him when he was only 4. Sure, he hated it, but it was familiar.

They all piled into the car. He tapped on the pink haired teen's shoulder. "Could i ask a question?" "Of course, you dont need to ask to speak." "Ok.. What are your names?" The teen in the front spoke, "I'm Wilbur." Wilbur. huh. neat. "My name is Technoblade." The pink-haired teen said. "Ok, thank you.." Technoblade hummed in response, turning back to his book. The radio played a song that was actually pretty nice.