Cw: Drug use and mentions of depression
Guys, I thought it's only been like a month or two at most :)) I'M SO SORRY YALL </3
Also, for future reference, you can call me vee (vera).
So I’m trying a different app as well as using a laptop instead of my phone.
Mammon didn’t even bother to check his phone. How dare they? How did they have the right to say anything when it was all their fault? How could they just sit there and let him suffer for their own amusement? They were disgusting.
He took another pill and looked up at the ceiling, watching as it spun around him.
There was a knock at his door.
"What?" He yelled out, his voice giving out midway.
He heard the door slowly creak open, It was Beelzebub, holding a plate of food in his hand.
“Hi Mammon!” Beelzebub said, a lot happier than usual.
Mammon was perplexed by how happy Beelzebub looked, like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders.
“Like he doesn't have to deal with you anymore.”
“So you’re going to therapy soon?”
"Well, I have to. Lord Diavolo won't let me go back until I do, and Lucifer will kill me if I refuse."
“Though I guess that wouldn't be such a bad thing.” The voice said.
"Oh." Beelzebub looked a bit disappointed. "Do you want to go?"
"Nope." Mammon paused and looked at him. "Therapy is for idiots that are unable to deal with their issues on their own.”
"Maybe it will be a good thing?" Beelzebub said with a small smile.
“Why do you care so much?”
“Because you need help.” Beelzebub said softly.
“You heard me. If you're gonna be like everyone else and use this shit against me, you can go."
“Out.” Mammon said, anger lacing his voice, but far too tired to raise it. He was so done with Beelzebub.
It wasn't until he watched his brother's face turn into one of sadness, slowly walking out of the room, did he realize his mistake. He didn’t truly mean to.
“But you did.” the little voice scratched in his head.
He was such an awful brother,
The colors in his room felt a bit darker; the weight in his chest was so heavy he couldn't swallow.
it makes him so depressed. Why does he constantly have to fail those around him?
Mammon mindlessly goes onto his phone and sees one from his friend, who has probably told him his name several hundred times by now.
“Do you want to get some more?”
“When?” was the only thing Mammon wrote.
There's no point in waiting for a response. Tossing his phone onto his couch and leaving his room.
He goes downstairs and sees his brothers get ready.
Was there something to do today? He couldn't remember, but he was glad he didn't have to go.
A few hours after his brothers left, he finally relieved a response.
There was a party that he probably wasn't allowed to attend.
But there was something he needed.
As he finally reached his destination, he heard his phone go off.
“where are you?” -Lucifer
Fuck. Why are they home so soon? He had to make this quick.
His notifications kept going
Everything about that stupid, run-down house was beautiful to him.
He slipped inside, only recognizing a handful of people he's hung out with before.
“What happened to the stuff anyways? It makes me feel sick.”
“I dunno. Different cut, I guess.”
Mammon wanted to question things. He should have questioned things, but the tight burning feeling in his chest stopped him.
“Thanks.” Is all he could say.
It took a few minutes, but slowly, things became heavy for him, unbearably heavy. He dragged himself to the same demon who gave him the pills
“you probably just took too many”
“yeah you did. Let's get you home.”
Mammon woke up outside that house in some sort of alleyway. His pockets are lighter than before.
He could barely make out that there were people in front of him as he was grabbed and dragged out of the alley and into the street.
A loud slap could be heard, echoing through the near-empty street
Mammon's left eye became blurry, yet he didn't feel a thing.
He couldn’t tell who it was. The figure was too distorted, but he knew it wasn't anything good.
He couldn't see too well, but he could hear.
