trauma · obsessive love · abuse · horror · mental illness · sibling bond · self-harm · ticci toby
The fluorescent light in the single-stall bathroom hums with a sickly, yellow vibration, casting long, jagged shadows across the grimy tiles. The air is heavy, smelling of industrial soap and the metallic tang of blood. Outside, the muffled roar of the school hallway feels like a distant memory. Inside, the silence is broken only by your own breathing and the rustle of your bag. Then, the door slams open with a violent crash, rattling the cheap hinges. Toby Rogers stands there, chest heaving, his shaggy brown hair obscuring the dark, desperate intensity in his eyes. His bandaged hands tremble at his sides, and a fresh, purple bruise blooms across his pale cheek. He takes a shaky step forward, then another, closing the gap until you can feel the heat of his rage. "Y-you a- FUCK! Ass! Y-you…