Selfless - Prinxiety

Chapter 1

Anxiety POV

I normally just sit back and let the others do their jobs. Unless, of course, Thomas needs me. If I had to define 'needs me' I would probably tell you it meant stopping Thomas from doing anything stupid.

Or anything at all.

It's hard though. Being 'Anxiety' and all. The one negative emotion. Everyone hates me, and I don't blame them. I hate me too. But I still have to do my job. I just wish they understood a little more.

Anyway, I'm getting off topic. Today is the T-mans big day, his birthday. Exciting, right? Maybe for the other emotions. Not so good if you're the one who has the task of spoiling his day.

Right now I'm watching Prince play his role. He's certainly enjoying it. Making Thomas feel great is what he's good at. Wish I could say the same.

I sigh before turning around. There's no reason for me to stay in the control room. Besides, I do want Thomas to be happy. It's not my fault that I'm his anxiety. Not like I can help it.

I headed out in the direction of my room in silence. It's not like they'd miss me. I reached my door. Painted black, of course. I pushed it open and slouched on my bed.

My whole room was various shades of black and dark grey. The bed itself was as dark as space except there was no sparks to help light my dreams. Let me correct myself there; *Nightmares. I can't remember ever having a pleasant dream in this place.

I flung my arm to the bed rest lazily. My hand shifted till it landed on my music player and I hit play. Might as well add some music to my mood.

The song that came on was 'Dead' By My Chemical Romance. Sometimes I wish I could die. I shook away the thought and let my eyelids droop. Soon enough I felt myself drifting slowly off to sleep.

~ Nightmare ~

I ran as fast as I could, but it was never fast enough. It was going to catch up. It always did. I tripped. Fell. My face smashed against the floor, but that was the least of my worries. Soon it came. It had a knife this time. I covered my head with my arms protectively as it started to kick. Punch. Then it plunged the knife down. Right in my side. Then again. And again. I coughed, blood spurted out of my mouth. I felt tears roll down my face as it continued. Yet I didn't die. It was just constant torture. Blow after blow. If this didn't stop soon, I would shatter. I've already been broken too many times to count. Just as I thought I was going to lose it, I felt a force reach out. The force stopped the pain, soothed my wounds. The darkness of the dream started to slip away.

~ End ~

I woke up, my cheeks wet from crying whilst I slept. Someone had woken me up. I tilted my head to see who it was.

"Prince...?"