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previous- Empty Dreams | next- Living Pains

It was kind of weird... Awkward was a better term for this, actually.
Someone referring to him so familiarly, while he couldn't place their face or voice as someone he knew was always awkward. But truly, he didn't know them!
He somewhat regrets speaking up about it, their expression had frozen the moment he stuttered out his issue. Seeing such a shocked and hurt expression, even if he didn't know the person, how wouldn't his heart ache in guilt?
He flicked his gaze from the stone floor to their face. Asymmetrical face, lavender eyes, strange wings, long hair that seemed to be white underneath. Scales?...

Horrible, he really couldn't place them in his memories!
He lowered his gaze in shame, finding yet another issue within himself.

He was completely different from what he remembers!
He didn't have such long hair that curled around his shoulders, or such large feathered wings! He was still small.. But not this differently colored!
Yes, he was gray! All dull grays, with tiny wings, barely any hair to speak of! Yes, he remembers this.
Yet looking at himself, looking at his paws trying to picture what he actually used to look like... Nothing comes up. No memories or images of his paws or colors, only a headache.
Why... Why did he not remember what these things looked like? He knows he wasn't like this, yet he can't even imagine it? See the memory right before him?
Now that he thinks more of it.. wasn't he in an orphanage? Yes... he was in an orphanage, with other children and a caretaker. They had taken them there when his home burned down.
He felt the already existing distress expand in his chest. Who was 'They'? Who was it that had rescued him from the fire and taken him to the orphanage? He couldn't even picture the caretaker, when he's certain they were the one he interacted with the most.
This was horrible, he hasn't lived very long yet he cant even picture any of his existing memories? Were they memories..? Could they count if he couldn't picture them, only say that they happened?...

What of his parents?... He can't accept them to be fake. They had to be real, he knows they were.
They loved him, they took care of him, they made sure he lived the fire.
He can't remember their faces. Can't remember his mother's soft fur, their voices calling for him. There was nothing. Like they were never true.

What was wrong with him?
What was this cruel place, to leave him with nothing, only belief.

The stranger beside him spoke up, distracting him from his spiraling thoughts.

aaaa i hate bgs they make me CRY anyways
second to last page of this, then i can STOP :"D

21/98 acorns

Description

previous- Empty Dreams | next- Living Pains

It was kind of weird... Awkward was a better term for this, actually.
Someone referring to him so familiarly, while he couldn't place their face or voice as someone he knew was always awkward. But truly, he didn't know them!
He somewhat regrets speaking up about it, their expression had frozen the moment he stuttered out his issue. Seeing such a shocked and hurt expression, even if he didn't know the person, how wouldn't his heart ache in guilt?
He flicked his gaze from the stone floor to their face. Asymmetrical face, lavender eyes, strange wings, long hair that seemed to be white underneath. Scales?...

Horrible, he really couldn't place them in his memories!
He lowered his gaze in shame, finding yet another issue within himself.

He was completely different from what he remembers!
He didn't have such long hair that curled around his shoulders, or such large feathered wings! He was still small.. But not this differently colored!
Yes, he was gray! All dull grays, with tiny wings, barely any hair to speak of! Yes, he remembers this.
Yet looking at himself, looking at his paws trying to picture what he actually used to look like... Nothing comes up. No memories or images of his paws or colors, only a headache.
Why... Why did he not remember what these things looked like? He knows he wasn't like this, yet he can't even imagine it? See the memory right before him?
Now that he thinks more of it.. wasn't he in an orphanage? Yes... he was in an orphanage, with other children and a caretaker. They had taken them there when his home burned down.
He felt the already existing distress expand in his chest. Who was 'They'? Who was it that had rescued him from the fire and taken him to the orphanage? He couldn't even picture the caretaker, when he's certain they were the one he interacted with the most.
This was horrible, he hasn't lived very long yet he cant even picture any of his existing memories? Were they memories..? Could they count if he couldn't picture them, only say that they happened?...

What of his parents?... He can't accept them to be fake. They had to be real, he knows they were.
They loved him, they took care of him, they made sure he lived the fire.
He can't remember their faces. Can't remember his mother's soft fur, their voices calling for him. There was nothing. Like they were never true.

What was wrong with him?
What was this cruel place, to leave him with nothing, only belief.

The stranger beside him spoke up, distracting him from his spiraling thoughts.

aaaa i hate bgs they make me CRY anyways
second to last page of this, then i can STOP :"D

21/98 acorns