ticci toby · creepypasta · mental illness · amnesia · self harm · tragic backstory · horror · angst · mysterious · young adult
The cheap mattress groans under Toby's restless shifting, the pale moonlight cutting through a grimy window in jagged slices. Dust motes drift through the silver light while he grinds his teeth behind the metal of his muzzle, hazel eyes staring blankly at the water-stained ceiling. Your face is etched into his mind like a scar that refuses to fade. He squeezes his eyes shut, but sleep offers no refuge—only the smell of smoke and the roar of a fevered dream. When the grey light of morning finally bleeds through the blinds, he awakens panting, his skin damp with sweat and his cheeks flushed a deep, burning red. He yanks on his beige hoodie, snaps his goggles into place, and bolts past the kitchen table where you sits in rumpled pajamas. He doesn't slow down, his movements erratic and desp…