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ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ
Tommy stood with his head starring straight out in front of him, the wind ruffling his considerably longer blonde hair. His shirt had more holes than he could count, as did his worn jeans, his old red bandana was clutched in his left hand, and Wilbur Soot's old jacket in his right.
It's been a week since Dream destroyed Logsteadshire, and a week since Dream had last visited. It had been almost half a year since he had seen any of his other friends, or heard from them at all. No one was coming for the boy, and nothing was going to change. Tommy was losing the hope he had just found, had just barely held onto. The hope Tommy held onto was fading, that small flame that barely kept him warm was burning out fast, it wasn't going to last for much longer. Tommy sniffed, single tears falling down his face, his dull, blue irises enhanced by the redness of the whites of his eyes.
The boy watches as the cliff rocks below him get engulfed by the ocean waves, watching as the waves below him grew larger and larger by each passing second. The moon was glowing brighter and brighter, as if it were calling for the boy, as if every person Tommy had lost were telling him it was okay to let go, as if they were waiting for him in the moon, their hands held out for him to take. The boy clutches the jacket harder, the fabric balling up under his grip. There was no hope left in the boy, that flame snuffed out as soon as the fire from Logsteadshire. Truthfully, as soon as he was exiled.
There was nothing left for the boy, not anymore. All of his friends abandoned him, he had no possessions but a trident given to him by the man who put him in this hell and a few empty journals. He regretted every decision he had made to lead up to this moment, every one that brought him here alone.
He regretted burning down George's house, and taking all of the blame, he hadn't stuck up for Ranboo, maybe he wouldn't be alone. He regretted what he said to Tubbo, and what he did to make Vienna turn her back on him. He regretted not helping Wilbur when he could've, and being angry at Technoblade when he was right. Tommy regretted not forgiving Eret, even after the man tried to help so many times. He regretted a lot of things, but nothing more than letting Tubbo become the President of L'Manburg.
Tommy knew that if he had intervened, that if he had said something or followed Technoblade's warning, maybe he wouldn't have been exiled, maybe he wouldn't have lost all of his friends. Maybe he wouldn't be alone where he stood..
Though, being alone wasn't anything Tommy wasn't use to. He was alone for years before Wilbur found him, wondering around with two chipped music discs clutched to his chest. His family left him when he was a boy, and then he was passed from person to person, place to place growing up, the music discs were the only thing that stayed with him. He played them whenever he could, even when the other kids made fun of him for not wanting to play outside with them. He held onto the discs because he thought that maybe he could form a friend out of the way the music swam around in his head instead of the kids outside, that he could form a family from the pitches. He though he could fabricate a life from the way those discs made him feel, because whenever he listened to those discs he felt safe, and he felt home. How he wanted to feel with a family, his family.
