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Summary
He sighed, falling back in his bed and staring at the ceiling. How long had it been since Bill’s ruling? Two years? He was eleven years old now, no longer the short, fat kid he was back then. He still had most of his baby fat and a noticeable muffin top, but it was nothing that really irritated him in anyway. Gideon had always loved himself as he was, despite how power crazy he had been when he was nine. He closed his eyes and tried his best to do away with the traumatic events of his past. Though he rarely got panic attacks or plagued by his mistakes, there were still things that triggered them. For example, he was deathly afraid of silly suits, something that made most people poke fun at him, but he knew that if they had experienced what he had, then they wouldn’t be laughing. And sometimes, when he was by himself, drawing a blank for what to do, his mind would take him back and he would find himself seeking out comfort as he sobbed insistently, wanting to desperately take back his mistakes and make everything right again.
He wanted to feel right again.
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