#just angsty traumatised teens and almost adults

[kindaasrikal]

“Kai, Jay and Cole are the best trio!”

“Nya, Jay and Zane are the smart trio tho!!”

“But Lloyd, Kai and Cole are the strong trio!”

Shut up and listen to me right now.

Zane, Lloyd and Jay are the loser trio.

Nya, Cole and Lloyd are the petty trio.

Zane, Jay and Lloyd are the emotionally unstable because of both trauma and too many feelings trio.

Cole, Jay and Zane are the OG trio and bully Kai.

Kai, Nya and Lloyd are the second OG trio and they tackle the others every chance they get.

Not a single one of them are better than the others they are collectively one body one brain one soul that chooses when it wants to work right.

Which is never.

[marvelmaniac715]

Andy finally goes to therapy. His therapist suggests that he writes a letter to Chucky expressing his feelings about everything that’s happened to him, but the letter will never actually make it to Chucky, right?... This is that letter.

————————————————————-

Dear Chucky,

That doesn’t feel like the right way to start it. I’m not sure how else to start letters though, maybe I’d have more knowledge on the subject if I was able to attend school full time as a kid. I was bounced around so many foster homes and guardians that I never got a full education, I guess I owe that to you.

Sometimes I lie awake at night and wonder if you know just how much you affected me growing up. You severely impacted my life, yet every time we meet you don’t acknowledge this. Do you pretend that you didn’t play a part in traumatising me because it makes you feel better? Or do you know and just not care? The tiny part of me that wants to believe that there’s good in everyone would choose the former, but in my heart I know it must be the latter.

I googled you, did you know that? I learnt about your childhood, it was strangely healing to learn about the events that shaped you in your formative years. I saw a picture of you when you were about six or seven (the age I was when we first met) and I gotta admit, you were pretty cute. But the headline that accompanies the image I found reminded me that you’re psychotic. I know you killed your mom and dad, you’re beaming with pride in that photo, despite it being taken hours after their deaths. In horror movies, the killers usually had abusive childhoods that warped their perception of reality, but not you, huh? You were just born like that.

You grew up in a Home as well, so you can relate. That fact unsettles me, because you know how it feels to suffer, to grow up without parents. Yet you willingly chose that life for yourself, and you passed it on to me because why the hell not I guess. You made something inside my brain snap. I can’t pursue romantic relationships, I can’t maintain friendships or hold a job because I have trust issues. You fucked me up, Charles, and you have to face that.

I kid myself that I’m an adult, but sometimes when I see you I’m that scared little boy again, hiding behind his mother and desperately trying to prove that he isn’t insane, that his life is really in danger. My mom was traumatised too, she tries to hide it for my sake, but she can’t even look at a doll without breaking down into tears. If you read this part, you’d probably laugh that spine-chilling cackle of yours that still makes me jump every time it comes out of your mouth.

I was six years old, I just wanted a Good Guy doll for my birthday. My mom was just trying to make me happy, we didn’t have much but we had each other, life wasn’t bad. If I could go back in time I’d stab that first doll with a kitchen knife, that would’ve ended everything once and for all. If I really had the guts, I would’ve walked into that toy store where you lay dying and ripped that cursed doll out of your human form’s hands before you could even utter the incantation. But the past can’t be altered, it can only be reflected upon with a vague disappointment.

Was there ever a point where you saw me as a son? Maybe the first time around? Even when you tried to kill me, it was almost as if there was a certain fondness for me. You were the only constant male figure in my life, you taught me some valuable life lessons as well. Not to trust authority figures, because they can betray you. Not to give in to moments of weakness, you have to think on your feet in order to live. But most importantly, you taught me how to survive. With these things in mind, the case could certainly be argued that you were a father figure to me. In my angsty teen years, I certainly thought of you like that sometimes.

I have so much left to say, but I’m going to run out of paper. Long story short, I don’t forgive you, but I think I can understand you. The two of us are like kindred spirits, there’s so many similarities between us. Dead parents, grew up in the foster system, had to learn survival skills had a young age, if you disregard the murders, we could almost be the same person. The part of me that still cries out for a parental figure to fill that void in my life misses you, life is certainly much less interesting without you around. But I hope that I don’t see you again, because I enjoy living. You’re never gonna read this, but I hope you got a kick out of this, Dr. Mixter, maybe you found some information in here that can be brought up and worked on in future therapy sessions?

‘Kindest’ regards,

Andy Barclay