~Chapter 6: It's Only a Dream...~ Tom's dreams weren't an exception to the voices. They always followed him, no matter where he went. The voices pounded inside his head, as if they were trying to break free. Shaking his head, he surveyed his surroundings. He seemed to be in a wooded area, far away from home. He felt his skin prickle with nervousness. "Tord? Edd? Matt...?" He called, gaining only the response of a crow cawing. He began to walk around, continuing to nervously glance from side to side. Besides the steady crow calls, and his own breathing, Tom found the forest eerily silent. He must have glided along the ground to be this silent, leaves littering every inch of the ground. You're not supposed to be here. Tom jumped, startled. "What? Who's there?" He called nervously. You know who we are, Tom "Oh great, you again." He huffed, still walking forwards. "Tom?" Someone called from the distance. Tord! Tom began to run towards the voice.

Tom could identify that Norwegian accent anywhere. Alongside it, he could hear the laughing of Edd and Matt. "Tom!" Tord called. Tom could see his red hoodie from the distance, and continued to run towards it. But as he neared, what he saw caused him to slow.

--Trigger warning--

Tord rested at the bottom of a large oak, leaning with his back against it. Looking up slightly, Tom saw Edd and Matt in the tree, messing with some type of rope. Tom stopped short of the clearing, resting at the edge where the wooding began to clear. Edd spotted Tom, and nudged Matt with a giggle. "Hey, Tom! It's almost ready for you." Edd said, still messing with the rope. Confused, Tom came closer. As he did, Edd dropped the rope, and it hung in front of Tom, hanging from the tree. A noose. Tom stared at it nervously. Tord, Matt, and Edd began to laugh. "W-what's this for...?" Tom asked. "Don't be so stupid, Jehovah." Tord said. Tom looked at him as Tord stood, grabbing the rope as he walked closer. "We don't want you here." Tord's words seemed to echo the ones in Tom's mind. They don't want you, Tom.

You're worthless to them; to anyone. You'll never be good enough. You should just die. The last word rung in his ear, poisoning his thoughts. Die. It'd be so easy. Tord pushed his hands towards Tom, the rope resting precariously on his fingertips. Shakily, Tom took it in his hands and looked up at the branch where the rope was attached. Up there. Without moving, Tom was somehow transported onto the branch. This is it. Leap of faith. More like leap of death...

He pulled the rope around his neck and slowly stood. Edd and Matt were beside him, snickering quietly. Tom looked down at Tord, who had his arms crossed and a grin on his face. This is what they all want, Thomas. Make your 'friends' happy. He sighed, getting ready to jump when he felt hands on his back. He turned around just in time to see Edd and Matt push him off, and everything went black.

Tom awoke suddenly, gasping for breath. He put his hands to his throat as he looked around his room. He still couldn't seem to breath, as if there was something there. As his hands made contact with his neck, he felt hands there, squeezing. He gasped. "Wh-what are y-you d-doing?!" Tom cried weakly. He saw the sleeve of a red hoodie. Tord chuckled. "Say goodnight, Tom." He sneered quietly. "N-no, stop! Stop! Let go of m-me!" He struggled to break free as the world flashed before him.

Lights blinked behind his eyes. They don't want you. They don't care. Useless. Worthless. Faggot. Traitor. Liar. The last words he was going to hear was the echos of his own fears. The lights dimmed, and he gave up on his struggle. Tord laughed, and it sounded so distant to Tom. Was he even still here? Darker the lights went, until it was only a faint glow of his room. He looked back to see Tord's smirking face, his shoulders tensed as he strangled Tom. Darker... Darker... Black. And there was nothing he could have done to stop it.

He awoke in the same spot, but this time, Tord wasn't there. He still felt hands on his throat, and realized they were his own. He pulled his hands to sit on his lap, looking at them. They were bruised and slightly bloodied. How'd that happen? He shook his head, still gasping for the air he felt weighing down on him like the burden of life on his chest. He got up and walked to the mirror on his wall, looking at his neck. Sure enough, it was bruised, turning a dark purple color.

He ran his fingers across it gingerly, wincing as pain shot through him. He looked around his room, noticing a few changes. The floor was no longer covered in glass, and the picture frame was mended. Sitting in it was the picture of the four of them. Tom looked at it, wondering who moved it... And who fixed it. He shrugged it off, moving on. The hole in the wall from his knife was now covered. With duct tape, nonetheless, but still covered. Tom guessed the product of Matt. He circled back to his bed. He wasn't up here last night. Tom remembered being downstairs on the couch, and it all came back to him like a bad dream.

They had huddled around him, and he fell asleep. Crying. In Tord's arms. They must have brought him back upstairs. He sighed, sitting on his bed. He felt like crying again, but felt too tired to do much of anything. He heard Ringo purr, jumping slightly as the little grey cat crawled out from under his bed. "Hey girl, how'd you get there?" His voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk. He picked Ringo up, and she gave a little meow of gratitude as he set her on the bed. He chuckled, stroking her head gently. She curled up next to him, and he laid down, pulling her closer to him. He felt the ripples of her purr on his chest, soothing his aching body. Even after just waking up, Tom realized how tired he truly was. Slowly, with Ringo's purrs acting as a lullaby, he fell back asleep, greeted with soothing dreams of him and Ringo. No worries. No Tord. Just him and Ringo. (A/N) Okay, that was a longer chapter than I intended. But there ya go.

(A/N) sorry to delete your comment, thank you for the kind words, but please do not comment on my chain. Have a nice day.