The loud house fanfiction: animosity: Chapter 8
After nearly chocking my sister lynn to death and after shoving edwin up lucy's vagina I had blacked out.
During my state of deep sleep I had dreamt about me and ronnie anne. I wish things could have gone differently for the both of us you know?
I don't find it fair that the one time I stand up for myself against her constant bullying, she is then allowed to punch me in the face and is congragulated for doing so.
You couldn't have really ever said this was a friendship but rather more like me the jester performing for the queen. (Ronnie Anne)
My sisters don't seem to understand even after all that they did to me. They're once again blaming my autism for why I acted the way I did.
But most convienently they had also deflected blame onto the blackpill content I was watching on the TV in the living room.
And when I awoke in a daze in a hospital bed, they had already signed me up away to some sort of place which I have 0 information about.
Lynn senior loud: "This is for your own good son, we just can't have you running around terrorizing the place trying to kill your own sisters..."
Lincoln: But da-
Rita loud: No, not another word from you Lincoln.
Come on girls...Let's go home.
(All of lincolns sisters hurried outside of the room with lily loud being the only one to give back one last look before leaving)
Lincoln:G-guys..?
*Door slams shut*
*A few hours later the workers of the program arrived to greet lincoln then escort him to the back of the van which would be used to transport him to the facility*
Lincoln: I've been sent to a facility for troubled cynical teen boys like myself.
"We'll fix em right up" they said, cure me they said.
Nothing out of the ordinary really.
It was boring as for awhile I did not have internet.
A facility in the middle of nowhere but farmland with only 3 roomates aside from me who I was never familiar with.
My ceiling was pitch black, unilluminated.
Gazing into the darkness of my ceiling for what seemed to resemble an endless void.
Gradually overtime I felt as if It was swallowing me.
Feelings of despair, anxiety, and a sense of losing control. Those of which seem to be the way i've became hardwired to feel.
Eventually over time shoveling snow had become an end in itself. It was for my own sake as it was to sustain what little ounce of sanity I had left.
I'm trying to maintain myself as if I'm a puzzle trying to reconnect the pieces of me together.
But they all come knocking me down and I'm scattered all across the floor again.
Once again, I pick up those pieces trying to rebuild myself which becomes a constant iteration of the same thing happening over and over.
A cycle of rejection and humiliation, that is life for lincoln.
Chapter 8 end:
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