Minecraft Chapter 10

Instructions

Space, stage, or right arrow to go to next. Left arrow to go back. First: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1290857303/ Previous: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1321636126/ Next: (Not out yet) Here's your extra thingy if you actually read these (it's an extra part of the chapter because I've wanted to do one of these for a while and now I see my opportunity >:D Comment "Okay then" if you actually ended up reading this. Warning, this is a bit darker, just because of the fact that it's in Steve's POV and he has a lot of... issues): Bonus part Steve I flopped down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, grinning. I felt... weird. Not bad weird. Warm weird. I didn't know why, but telling Alex about my fear had just felt... better. I was starting to understand why people were always talking about venting. It had made me feel lighter. Like I didn't just have to hold everything on my own. Like maybe I could tell people things without worrying about being a burden to them. Suddenly, I wanted to tell her everything. The fear, the anxiety, the pain, the paranoia, the hate, the anger, the emptiness, the panic attacks, the cuts, the hours spent wondering if anyone actually cared or if they just liked the mask, the time I spent making sure no one saw past it, the time I spent shoving down every bit of emotion so that it didn't surface and ruin everything, the helpless feeling I always had, the thoughts telling me that I wasn't good enough, the doubt, the fear that the safety was going to run out when my luck did, the nightmares, the memories, the flashbacks, the buried secrets I'd never let anyone see, the secret only Brian knew, the way talking to people always felt like escaping a jail cell -where I had to do every move perfectly or I would be caught, how I was scared to make real friends because I felt like they would get hurt because of me, how sometimes I questioned whether anything was worth the effort, how sometimes my jokes weren't actually jokes, how I starved myself because I couldn't eat sometimes, how all of it just felt like it was pressing in on me and I was too weak to do anything about it. How I was never able to prevent anything bad happening at all. But then reality came crashing back down on my fantasy and I remembered why I kept it all to myself. I couldn't tell her any of that. Either she would hate me and leave or she would stay and get hurt. My smile faded. *You're alone for a reason,* I reminded myself. *You choose that. Because then the only person that gets hurt is you. And you don't matter.* I curled up into myself. That's the way it's supposed to be. That's the way it has to be. That's the way I want it. Even though the crushing feeling came back again. Even though it made my chest twist painfully. Even though it hurt. But it didn't matter. Because if I kept it to myself, it meant she was safe. It meant everyone else was okay. And it didn't matter if I wasn't. Because I didn't matter.