Old Short Stories

short drabble

Does the blank stare scare you more than the frown?
Am I the reason that you feel down?

    He looked the same. Well, close, to the same. But everything else was different about him.
    He had his fluffy brunette hair still, the scar on the right corner of his mouth. This was him.
    His eyes were still green. But they looked like they had a grey film over them. As well as three pupils, always, instead of just one every once in a while.
    Every pupil seemed to have a different personality. The biggest one, had an 'X' through it, it seemed to be the most omportant of them. The second one, a small, shakey oval with a line through it vertically, was shaking. As if it were afraid, but nothing else held that impression. The third, and final one, was always focused on certain points in the area. It was just an oval.
    He was still short, but not as short now, and small. Though he no longer wore his signature scarf, or a sweater. He was covered in bandages, some showed signs of bleeding behind them. Others were still a pristine cotton white. Most were somewhere inbetween. There was just so many. What would cause someone to need so many fucking bandages?
    He held no emotion in what he did. He did as told, everything looking fluid and done well,, but there was no trace of the bubbly kid from '87. I mean,, most people change, and mellow out,, but not this much.
    This is a different person.
    A different, thing.
    It didn't say anything to him. Not when he ran up to it, yelling it's old name, not when he stood in front of it, spitting questions at rapid fire. Where had it been these years? Why did it leave without saying goodbye? Why isn't it responding?
And then it did.
It stopped him in his tracks.
"I'm sorry. "
And then,
"Who?"
The voice was raspy, clearly hadn't been used in so long. But was was still his voice.
It had no emotion.
This isn't him. No, Oliver was gone. This thing didn't have a name, just a number.
Welcome back outside, 48160.