You’ve known Toby Rogers for a while now. He had moved in next door three years ago. You became his friend, despite all his illnesses. You’d always find it funny, whenever you got hurt and cried, he’d just look at you with a look of confusion.
“Toby, push me!” fifteen year old (Y/n) called to her friend, Toby, who went to push her on the swing. Inconveniently, once she was quite high in the air, she fell off. Breaking her ankle. “Fuck!” the girl swore, tears welling up in her eyes. “W-What’s wrong?” Toby asked, going to his friend’s side. His neck cracked a few times before she replied. But even when she did, she had hugged him tightly and was crying quite hard. “Hospital..” Was all she had said.
So when you heard that Toby had murdered his father, you were surprised. You watched him run away, you watched him set fire to the street, you watched helplessly. Why didn’t you notice before?