TW:: IMPLICATION OF "SLIDE/SEWER" IDEATION ________ Character: Steph ________ She felt utterly sick to her stomach. It wasn’t a feeling that she wasn’t used to, this always happened, she just never bothered going to Fathom about it. The feeling had immobilized her, leaving her staring blankly at her empty ceiling, counting each and every second. She didn’t know what she was counting down to anymore, maybe she just needed to stop her thoughts from overflowing. As she laid there, a figure materialized in the corner of her vision, causing her to turn her head towards it. Ryli. Or at least, the thing that wore his face. As she locked eyes with it, it slowly walked over to her bedside, lowering itself on its knees. “Why didn’t you save me?” It asked. That question again. She didn’t answer. She couldn’t bring herself to. “Why are you so selfish?” It then asked. That was a new one. Again she didn’t answer. “It’s always something about you…” It then mumbled, tilting its head, “You couldn’t even die for my sake.” She opened her mouth to say something, but the only thing that came out was– “I’m sorry.” Its expression shifted, “You always say that. Over and over. You keep apologizing. But you still don’t…” It trailed off. They were both silent, before it spoke again, “Do you really think you deserve all this?” Steph just stared, making it continue, “Do you really think you deserve to live when I couldn’t? When I couldn’t /because of you/? When everything that’s ever happened was because of you?” Steph stared before slowly shaking her head. “Then why are we still here?” Steph didn’t respond– again. “You’re never gonna be loved if you’re like this,” it said, raising its head a little, “Why won’t you give up already?” She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Nobody even wants you here.” Steph then closed her eyes, “...I can’t.” It sighed. When she opened her eyes, the hallucination had faded, and she looked back at the ceiling. Thinking.
