RANDOM STUFF THAT IM POSTING

Was there loneliness a result of being left behind? Or did they push everyone away?

Were they always this alone?

Owen couldn't remember a time people seemed so happy to spend time with them. Perhaps they were objected to a lifetime of loneliness.

There were days where they felt real. They hated those days. They hated the way they craved the touch of another human. They hated wanting to hear another voice besides hearing the one that spoke their thoughts to them. They hated the empty feeling their stomach would feel.

They hated feeling alone.

They locked themselves away from the world. If people didn't like them, then so be it. They won't be a bother to them anymore. Their old friends had every reason to leave Owen out.

Owen was too awkward. Owen had problems with self worth and taking care of themselves. People don't want to be around someone who needs help, but Owen didn't want that help.

Then they made a friend.

A friend group.

For the first time, Owen was welcomed into something. Owen was able to be themselves without worry of others leaving them because they were too awkward, or because they were either loud or quiet.

They were wrong of course.

It was small things at first. Leaving Owen out of things, not inviting them, ignoring them. They caught onto it rather quickly and they honestly didn't mind. At least they still stuck around them, right?

Wrong.

Not even a week later, Owen had found out they thought poorly of them.

Owen didn't fight. They didn't even ask any questions. They took the hint and left. They didn't need anyone, right?

They didn't need anyone.

They didn't need anyone.

They didn't want anyone.

If no one wanted them then what was the point in trying.

They didn't notice it was raining until they tripped. The cut on their leg was bad. It was bleeding freely. Owen did nothing to stop the bleeding, they just stared at it. If this were anyone else, Owen would have ran for help. But seeing their blood slowly making it's way down their leg made them stare in awe.

Looking around, they noticed a cliff. The water around it was beautiful. They could imagine themself falling. Falling with the knowledge this is your last dream. Terrifying, but the thought is still comforting.

Between their leg bleeding out and the long way down, they didn't move. Their mind spun with ways to help or destroy them more. They hated it. The sun was warm. It made their normally cold skin melt.

"What the hell are you doing?"

They turned away from the cliff and looked at the area the voice might have been. It was Julien, the steampunk boy.

"Owen, hey, if you need to talk I'm here. Just don't go. Don't do this."

Owen almost smiled. Almost.

"I wasn't planning on it."

Julien didn't leave them after Owen tried to soothe his worries. Instead, he walked right up to them and hugged them, walking with them away from the edge.

"C'mon, lets get you home. This cannot be good."

Owen allowed themself to be pulled along to the steampunk boy's house. They could almost feel the grip Julien had on their arm which pulled them along. Once Owen opened the door, Julien got to work. Owen's hands followed Juliens, and after the two were done, (well, technically Julien,) Julien pushed them into their bedroom. He pulled Owen into their arms while rubbing their back. Owen hugged Julien like a koala, and Julien only smiled at the action.

"I care about you Owen. Get some sleep right now, okay?"

Owen nodded. They hugged Julien closer to them, wanting to feel the warmth and comfort of the other.

God, they wished that pillow could hug them back.