noob was living a NIGHTMARE.

they woke up in cold sweats in the middle of the night, shaking all over. their body trembled as if disturbed water rippled under their skin; they picked at their skin, feeling unfit for the body they were in. sinful, they thought, so dirty. filthy. i need to clean myself. clean my soul. they scrubbed at themselves vigorously, to the point where they rubbed their skin raw, bleeding in grazed patches. they scratched as a habit, wincing as they eventually drew blood, hastily covering the patches of skin rubbed raw through friction over time with bandages, band-aids & cloth alike. they began to wear gloves much more often, & one early morning whilst rummaging around in their drawer in search of a new pair, they accidentally grabbed hold of a pair that had been gifted to them by sixer a few years ago, & the garment was still in its original packaging; noob had treasured the gift like a sacred object. now, they flung it across the room once they’d read the text scripted upon the label; for noob, my best friend! <3 they curled in on themselves & slumped onto the floor, limp, after that, & had sobbed themselves well into the noon. their mother had discovered them amidst a puddle of their own tears, voice torn to shreds from the sobbing.

blink. blink. noob rubbed at their eyes, knuckled fists, tears bleating their sight from how hard they’d pressed onto their eyes after lowering their hands. no matter how many times they attempted to reset their vision, no matter how many times they blinked, no matter how many attempts noob made at erasing that image from their eyelids, they always saw the same thing; sixer staring back at them, mouth pulled into a wide smile, eyes bright. still loving, still cheerful, back when things hadn’t gone directly to hell. if they didn’t want to see that image of sixer unscripted onto their eyelids, why did they keep on blinking to see the picture? they knew why. they missed sixer. horribly. they knew that they’d loved her. they didn’t say so, they thought she knew. but at that beach, precisely where they’d met, they infuriated her to the point of lashing out… & then they’d left, telling sixer to “never speak to me again.” they’d spoken with such hatred, with such loathing in their tone. it was unfair. sixer was going through things back then, yet noob had been much too blind to just see. they tossed & turned in bed, restless, mind whirring like an overheated engine. the scenes of noob & sixer’s favourite memories played on behind their shut eyelids as if god himself didn’t want noob to forget what could’ve been if they’d just been a fraction more mature & more sympathetic.

they were in bed. eyes shut. squeezed tight. hands gripping the covers, pulled up over their head. they lay curled beneath the duvet, faint candlelight flickering from their bedside from where they’d lit a candle because they couldn’t sleep without one. not because they were afraid of the dark, but rather were terrified of what would emerge from it if their fears were to become true. sixer would want vengeance, wouldn’t she? she’d come back. tear noob apart in their sleep, bit by bit, limb by limb. they eventually fell asleep. they knew they’d reawaken in a dream, involving sixer like all of the other times. they prayed it wouldn’t be hellish like all the rest.

their eyes snapped open. sunlight bleared into their vision, searing their eyes for a brief moment before their pupils adjusted to the sudden attack of light. they breathed in, & their eyes darted round as they took in their surroundings; a flower field, rather beautiful. their eyes widened as the memory train hit them— this was the very field they’d stood in when sixer had invited them out on a nature trip on pride month. they looked down, & sure enough, they were donning all sorts of genderfluid-coded attire, such as a turtleneck, gloves & even a kandi bracelet sixer had fashioned for them that morning.. their heart suddenly heaved, eyes brimming with tears all of a sudden. they gritted their teeth, attempting silence.