~ It took Mural a while to process things. The Watcher took control of him. His ankles and wrists were going to hurt for probably months and there would be permenant scars on them from the string. And his worst enemy had saved him. Marco had sliced the strings. Why? Marco wanted Mural to die. He wanted bad things to happen to him. But why did he save him? Why? Mural buried his face in his hands and groaned. For all he knew, he’d get kicked out of the cult. Out. Kicked. Killed. Done. Zander would probably choke him. Oxicander would probably scratch his eyes out. Boss- No- Ryktonius would throw him in a fire. And Marco. Oh, poor Marco, he thought. Now Marco would get in trouble for saving him. Marco could get kicked out. Out. Kicked. Killed. Done. He felt terrible. After all he’d done to him, he’d saved him.. And he’d lose the few friends he had, too, surely. Nobody wanted to be friends with a murderer. A monster. A misfit who always tries to make people

— happy, though nobody would do the same for him, and nobody knew the fight he was in. Yes, he had a job. He lived alone and usually had to work overtime, every day, usually for 9 hours, to support not just himself but his family. But they wouldn’t want him back. Mural felt tears rolling down his cheeks and scoffed, wiping them away with his sleeve. Crying would do nothing. He was already packing his bags. Word would travel fast. Marco told him he’d buy him some time to make his decision. Stay or go. Go or stay. Stay and die. Go and live. Live or die. Die or live. Face the consequences like a man or run away like a coward. But running away meant who knows what. He could possibly fix things. So run he would. He would leave. He would go as far as he could, change his name, maybe, get a new job, new identity, and most importantly, fix the chaos he’d started. He doubted anyone would forgive him, but if there was even the slightest sliver of hope, the smallest speck in the uni

-verse of chance, he’d take that chance. They’d be happier without him. So he’d go. And he’d fix things. He packed the last of his things and finished writing his note. He’d written that he died. He knew it was the worst lie ever, and he’d break a few peoples hearts, but they’d break more if he stayed. So he opened the window and sighed, crossing his fingers, making sure he had his backpack and phone, and jumped. Closed his eyes. And felt everything dissolve around him, as he got teleported to a place he would only know when he woke up. ~ Dang that took a while. And I forgot to draw the tears, but, oh well. Let me know if I should continue Mural’s story or not. Hope you enjoy this <3

Part 2

Ty! I’m glad you like it.

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Thanks so much! <3