Days upon days went by, and each day that passed, Seth would ask another anti another question about their involvement with the theft of the sweets. Each day that passed, he got the exact same answer.
"What theft?" They echoed. It was bothersome to ask and ask everywhere, but yet, still going nowhere. However, someone had to be behind this. It simply wasn't him that took the sweets that night.
It was cold and dank outside. Fog danced around the landscape, making it hard to see anything past a yard. Seth had a blanket wrapped around him, listening to the sound of silence as he watched the fog hazily drift above the waves of the sea.
He hadn't seen Izzy in a few days. It hadn't been very safe to exit the castle. He hoped that she had collected something of importance, but he knew that it probably was the same results that he collected with the antis. Absolutely nothing. He sighed as his amber eyes moved left to right negligibly, observing the hazy ocean.
He did not remember there ever being a day in which he felt so alone with so many people by his side. He found it quite ironic, how someone could hear, but they would never listen, how one could speak, yet they never talk. He soundlessly bumped his head on the window pane and kept it there, letting the silence overcome him. Izzy couldn't understand the amount of pain he was going through, no matter how many pats on the back or how many hugs and cakes she can provide him. Catherine could never understand, she was part of the problem. Yet, she was also part of the solution, if Seth could ever find it. His mind couldn't find a single person who would be able to understand his pain and his suffering. Yet, he didn't know if he wanted anyone to understand.
A thought dawned on him that almost made him weep up and sob.
Maybe he wasn't ever going to get out of the castle. Maybe he was forever stuck with the antis until someone shot him in the head, letting loose all of his hopes and his dreams, his imagination and his love, all in the form of a crimson red liquid that would be washed up by the rain the next day, or dried by the golden sun. He held his soul together, but he could hear it crack like glass under the weight he was applying to it.
He honestly didn't know if he could stand another year being stuck within the same castle with the same people, when he knew that another life was awaiting him past the sea. Yet, he couldn't grasp the concept that someone within Stampy's Lovely World went far enough to shatter his dreams with a sledgehammer, watching the fragments scatter on the ground like glitter. He could pick up the fragments, and try to super glue them back together, but they were so small that it was practically impossible to even have a firm grip with them. Yet, they were so large that it would cut his skin, and the blood would drip on the fragments, leaving him with nothing.
Yet, it was okay. He could smile through it all, and he could tough it out like everyone said to do. He can choose to walk away from the fragments and pretend they weren't there anymore. It wasn't like anyone was there to hear his pleas of mercy anyway. They would tell him to tough it out so he could work on the task at hand.
He whispered quietly to himself, under his breath,
"I want someone to hold me."
YOU ARE READING
Shattering Mirrors
Hayran Kurgu12 years of stopping outrageous machines built by Hit the Target, and yet he always has another trick up his sleeve to steal the dogs right from Stampy's nose...but what if he wasn't working alone? Anti-Fred works behind the scenes of Hit the Target...
