Thank you guys so much for around 600 votes (˘̩̩̩ε˘̩ƪ) <———— don't worry that's me crying tears of happiness.
C'mon bring it in~ ༼ つ ಠ₍₍ළ₎₎ಠ༽つ
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It was silent for a while.
"Hey,"he interrupted the blissful sound of silence. "What do you think about clouds? They're all fluffy and shapeless..." he trailed off awkwardly.
"...what?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Ya know... clouds." He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.
"Are you trying to start a conversation?" I inquired, "because if so, you're doing a terrible job at it."
I took notice of the way his face immediately turned to a bright red and he looked away.
"S-shut up."
I sighed.
"So what do you want to know about me?"
His face brightened up as if he was waiting for me to ask this.
"Ah, well if you don't mind, I'd like to know how you lost your arm. When I found you, you looked to be in terrible condition as well. I reckon that it has something to do with the mempersenjatai rambut, but wasn't too sure, i mean, it could just be a crazy coincidence!"
"mempersenjatai rambut?" I asked.
"The monster that I found lying dead next to you."
'Pftt, do these people seriously not know that's the Indonesian word for 'arm hair'?' I silently mocked in my head.
Yes, I can speak many different languages. It gave me something to do to pass the time while I wasn't being beaten.
I don't know every language, but I do know quite a lot.
Around 59 I think?
Of course, it would be difficult to learn that many languages in only 18 years. Well, since I learnt to read this world's language at the age of 2 I guess it would be 16 years.
Anyways, that doesn't mean I learnt all 59 languages in this world, I've only learnt about 26. I also learnt 33 languages in my past life.
"So? What happened?"
I snorted in annoyance, "obviously. What else would've taken my arm? The wall?"
"R-right. I-I knew that." He stuttered.
"I'm going to stop talking now, do you have anything to write with?"
To be honest, the lack of using my voice all of these years has really taken affect.
"Um, yeah, I think I have a pencil somewhere," he smiled, "let me go find it real quick."
He entered the poorly made tent and came out a few minutes later with a half broken pencil.
I raised my left eyebrow and looked at him quizzically.
"The resources must not be very good down here, hm?"
"No, I haven't been out in the real world for a couple of years, truth is, I can't find the exit..." he trailed off while handing me the pencil.
"Mm, no paper?"
"Uh, no sorry."
Guess I'll just have to write on the floor then.
Well then, let's get to know my 'savior' a bit, shall we?
YOU ARE READING
The Hidden Village (on hold)
FantasyWhen someone experiences something traumatizing, the first thing they impulsively think of is, why me? But what's considered as traumatizing? Getting a bad grade on a test? A family member dying? Or maybe something more sinister, more painful. Such...
