Hermitcraft Oneshots :)

🍩💕❌ Zombie

HIYA

This is going to be just a small drabble thingy that I wrote because I was bored...

LEZ GO!!

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Word Count: 944

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TW: self-hatred, or whatever it is called, I can't think of the right word right now :P

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POV: Cleo

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Tears flowed freely down my face as I choked for air, huddled in the corner of my room. Legs hugged to my chest, face buried in my hands, hair tangled around my body.

I hate crying.

Crying because I hate myself.

I hate being an Immortuos.

A zombie.

Why can't I be normal, with normal skin, not blemished in scars and stitches.

People try to hide it, but I see the way they look at me, the way they flinch when I get to close, the way they avoid me. All because what? I'm a Hybrid?

Canises are adored. Anguis are beloved. Avems are looked up to. Flares are bowed down to.

And Immortuos are feared.

Hated.

I guess that's what we get seeing as we're zombies. No one could ever love a zombie, even when they're humans as well.

Mostly humans, in fact. The only thing that makes us zombies is our green skin and stitches.

Also our ability to survive deadly wounds. You would think that would make us at least useful to others, but no. We're still hated. Thrown aside. Ignored and avoided.

All those whispers, shoves, glares, and hateful comments have taken a toll on me. I tried to stay confident, but it all fell apart after one too many 'incidents.'

The Hermits, the only Players to not fear me, don't know this, and they never will. For all they know, nothing hurts me, emotionally or physically.

But it does.

A lot.

So I sit here alone, trying to block out the many, many whispers telling me I'm ugly, worthless, horrific, disgusting, and so much more.

It hurts even worse when the whispers are coming from your own brain, though.

"Cleo!"

Oh sh*t.

"Cleo! Where are you! I've been look-" Joe opened the door and stopped. I shrunk in on myself, hoping I was invisible.

Sadly, I heard Joe's feet hit the floor as he ran and crouched down in front of me. Without looking up, I mumble, "go away," cringing hoarse, scratchy voice that made it obvious I had been crying.

"Cleo, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need help?" Joe was panicking, and if I wasn't having a mental breakdown, I would laugh at the way his voice pitched. Instead, I shook my head, telling him to leave. "I'm not leaving."

The Southerner moved to sit beside me, putting his arms around my shoulders and pulling me into his side. "I'm not going to make you tell me what happened or why you're crying, but I'm not leaving, okay? I'm staying right by your side." He paused for a moment before speaking. "Wait, do I need to beat someone up? Because I will." I let out a small giggle, knowing he would probably lose. I shook my head at his question and felt him nod and pull me closer. Removing my hands from my face and clutching his shirt, I buried my face into his shoulder, letting my emotions free.

I cried for several minutes, and Joe stayed true to his word, not asking a single question. Instead he held onto me, running a hand through my hair and resting his chin on top of my head.

"Why do you care about me?" I croaked, no longer able to hold back the question.

Joe pulled back, surprised. "Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend?"

"I know, but why?"

He sighed. "Because you're funny, caring, smart, friendly, reliable, and very easy to get along with. Plus, it's fun to annoy you," he finished with a smile.

"But I'm just a zombie..."

"Oh, Cleo," Joe murmured, realizing what was wrong. He placed a hand on my cheek, stroking away my tears. "You're not a zombie." I started to disagree but he cut me off. "No! If you want to see a zombie, go outside. There are hundreds of those out there. If you were one, you too would be outside, drooling away, looking for a brain to eat." I let out an airy laugh. "You're an Immortuos, one of the strongest Hybrids there is. I could stab you right now-" I pulled away, giving him a 'what the heck are you talking about' look. "Nonono, I'm not going to, I'm just saying that if I did, you could stand up and go about your day like you didn't have a sword lodged into your stomach. If you stabbed me, I would curl up in a ball and cry for my mommy until I slowly and painfully bleed to death."

I looked at him like he was nuts but couldn't hold back my laugh.

"You are amazing, okay. Never think otherwise."

I met Joe's gaze, but looked away when I saw how closely he was studying me.

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm this hideous..."

Joe tilted my chin up to look at him and spoke sternly. "You are not hideous. You are beautiful, inside and out."

(Is this cringey or cute... I can't tell...)

He pressed his lips softly against my forehead before pulling me into his arms again.

We sat there, together, until we fell asleep, wrapped in each other's embrace.

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>.<

Please don't judge me too hard...

This is the first time I've ever written anything remotely romantic and it was rushed a bit...

I had no idea what I was going to write when I started, and this is what my brain came up with

So... Is it good or bad? please be honest! I really want to get better at writing and knowing what I did wrong will really help!

Dats all!

~Buh-Bye!! 💛💛