Episode 4 - Lost But Not Forgotten

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(Figured I should put an unfinished piece of artwork I did of Luka when he was a child >~<, I somehow lost the finished version of it, and I have just been too lazy to finish it again so here we go I hope it will do.)

Episode 4 - Lost But Not Forgotten

 LUKA'S POV

I was supposed to be just an ordinary guy with an ordinary life. At least, that's what I kept telling myself. Lately though, it's becoming clear that there's nothing ordinary about my life, and I'm starting to think that's how it's going to stay.

My life wasn't the greatest growing up, but I don't really think it was the worst either. I guess I just always had the feeling that something was missing.

I never felt like a normal person. I felt different. At first, I thought I just lacked certain emotions; feelings like sympathy or grief.

One time when I was five years old, I was walking home with mom and dad, back when they were still together. I stood between them, holding onto one of each of their hands. Occasionally they'd lift me up together as I kicked my legs out, all of us laughing together. They seemed so happy back then. To me, everything was right with the world.

After our short walk home, my father retrieved the house keys from his pocket and began unlocking the door. He pushed it open wide for us, stepping aside to let us in first. He always used to lock up behind us. My mother entered first and stopped sharply, letting out a gasp.

My father quickly brushed past me, placing his hands on mom's shoulders and looking past her. He paused for a second, before shaking his head, telling me not to come inside yet as a grave look painted his face.

I should have just listened to them that day, but I was curious. I crouched down and crammed my way under their legs so that I could see into our house. It took me a moment to realize that our puppy, who laid there in the foyer lifelessly, wasn't just sleeping.

What I felt in that moment wasn't sadness, or grief; not even pity. It was just lying there lifelessly. Almost as lifeless as the look in my eyes as I stared.

I felt nothing, absolutely nothing.

My parents were quiet. They knew it was too late to hide it from me now. What they didn't know was that I wasn't sad. There wasn't any confusion or fear plaguing my mind either. To this day, not even I know what I was feeling. All I know is that what I did next was the catalyst for my family falling apart.

I crawled out from under their legs and approached our deceased pet. My knees formed little indents in the carpet as I knelt down beside it, just looking at it for a moment. I was never close to it. My parents surprised me with the puppy earlier that year, but to their dismay, I hadn't seemed excited. I was neutral, neither happy nor sad. I helped take care of it like one is supposed to do with a pet, but that was mostly it.

Without hesitation I picked it up in both arms, walking back towards our front door. My parents were wide eyed and silent, but my father's face soon shifted to a look of anger as I walked past them and out the door.

"Luka! Get back in here! I do not want the neighbors seeing this!" he hollered after me, anger now seeped into his voice as well.

"Dad, it's okay." I told him, "I'll take care of it for us."

I thought I was reassuring him. His protests continued as I walked down to our garbage bin at the base of our driveway. He tried to follow me, but I think he was too shocked, or maybe disgusted at what he saw.

Holding our dog awkwardly in one arm, I lifted the lid of the bin with my other hand. Gently, but unceremoniously, I hoisted him inside and closed the lid.

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