I don't think you would be proud of me for having a whole playlist of songs to reminisce you as the tears dripping down my cheek, missing your laughter echoing our living room. You would bite me, no? I also think you would tug my arms to chase you around, and after we are out of breath laying down the smooth carpet, that's when you would ask for my console so you could play your favorite game of petting a bunch of dogs.

That game is so freaking silly, it suits you. It really does. But, I haven't touched it ever since. It stilled, waiting for you, time stopped in it and so does in our house. I can feel the light somewhat harsher, the air heavier, and the night colder. Everyone is grieving, I know, and I understand. Even though it means no one can look me in the eye, no sitting around our couch, no one's talking to me, and Mama more often than not laying in bed.

I miss her. I miss her laugh around you. I miss her hold and her cooking. I could barely remember what her food tastes like.

I miss you. I promise I will take care of your dogs later, I will go to your favorite trinkets store to get toys I think you would like. I'll go visit the places you want me to go. I will ride an air balloon even as I tremble, for you, just to be closer to you. (Blergh, I know)

I love you. (Sorry I haven't said it much)

— Just me.

Alt Tag

Affordable housing. Open for sale or rent. Modest 2-room home. Indoor toilet. Small kitchen. Near market and school. Family preferred. Call evenings. It's warm, hopeful, if you're a visitor.

The family is nice and kind if you are lucky to be hosted by the parents and the second child who's always bubbly no matter what. Don't worry, if he spilled anything he wouldn't be yelled at. But, if the first child doesn't smile politely he might be berated at when you're gone. Though no worries because you don't know that! All you know is, the mother will always offer you a hand if you're in need. You can ask her for food, or money. She'll help you every single time even though she hasn't made food that's allowed to be touched by her first child. She'll give you her first child toys too if your kid wants it. This is home of a very loving family after all, just like how everyone sees it.

The fridge works just fine, but it's mostly just water in a jug or three days old soup that keep getting reheated even though it's already slimy. The cupboard in the kitchen has food that's not for Varten to spare glance at. It's okay, all he needs to do is go to school and get the best grades, he's no trouble child at all. He's an easy child who should always remember that he's lucky enough to have a roof over his head. Don't forget the shared room where toys and stuffs that aren't his scattered around every surface.

Yes, the house is now dusty and there's miscellaneous of things all over the sticky floor. The beautiful Persian has lost its color. The house is suffocating more and more knowing it has lost the only sun his parents cared about. No, he hasn't eaten for days. He hasn't sat together nor shared stories with the people occupying this place.

All he does is get up, go to school without even dropping his grades, jumping classes, go back and sleep. For two years, he thinks this is normal. The loss is too big for his parents, he knows that. He doesn't have the place to feel anything other than grace and focus. The roof is enough even if he collapsed more and more in classes. Then everything doesn't seem to be enough the moment someone shows him what actual family should look like. Even when they're not wealthy, the house should be blessed by warm conversation and people who cares.

Because it's getting harder to breathe in that place, he took all his papers and packed his bags.

TAKE EVERYTHING WITH A GRAIN OF SALT

Maybe he's lying, maybe he's not. Who knows?

PERSONAL DATA ITEMS
Name Varten Ksathra
Sex AMAB
Gender Masculine
Age 18 years old 16
Height 170 cm
Weight 44
Status Alive
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Pub: 23 Apr 2025 14:11 UTC

Edit: 03 Sep 2025 11:07 UTC

Views: 2374