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.andrew kreiss.

Andrew Kreiss. Proclaimed as a monster the day he was born. They weren't wrong, the holy water they throw at him burn his skin like a witch. A demon. He's only 10 years young and has to deal with the physical and mental pain of being judged and rejected. It pains him to live his life everyday, but he choses to stay strong. For mother.

Andrew walks around a dense garden with grass uncut and weeds overgrown. This little safe place not only isolates him, but also gives the shade he needs from the burning sun. His monstrous white skin can't handle the suns touch, not even with sunscreen.

As he walks, he notices an unfamiliar color on the ground buried in the bushes. A bright, white color against natures hazy greens. He's surprised, almost proud of himself to notice it with his poor eyesight. Yet again, all he does is look down at his feet.

He walks closer to it without thinking, crouching down with his knees against his chest. He slowly leans towards it, eyes squinting to get a better look. Turns out, it's a rat. What is a rat doing out here? It looks like it's sleeping. As he inspects it, he notices more details. Insects fly around the animal, dark blood stains around its fur.

The rat is dead.

Most people would jolt back in fear or disgust. To see a dead, stinky rodent wouldn't be a pleasant sight. Andrew felt like he should of had that same reaction; to back away and let the rat be. To let the cycle of life do its thing. But he doesn't do that. Instead, his reaction is nothing. He doesn't even bat an eye to the rat. He feels almost indifferent. In fact, he feels so indifferent, he picks up the thing with his bare hands.

He stares at the animal intensely. The more he stared at it, the more he hated it. The bottom of his stomach formed a wicked pit he didn't enjoy. What is he feeling? Sorrow? Anger? He can't put his finger on it. How the rat has pure white fur in such a dark world... a cursed color. it had no chance of survival. Its beady eyes glow bright red even after death. He bites his lip. The poor thing had all odds against it..

Andrew's mind instantly ran laps. His collection of dead things at home is almost calling for the rat. He collected many dead insects or bones he somehow finds. Yet he feels this rat doesn't quite belong in his collection. It still has all of it's skin. It only died at most a few days ago. It's basically fresh meat. The things he collects have been dead long ago, or things that aren't susceptible to decaying. And then, it dawned to him.

Having a pet is one of his dreams.

Bringing a dead pet home would be a good pet. He won't need to feed it or give it proper care. Being in lower class and his mother bed ridden, they can't afford to buy a pet. So, this would be a good substitute. A fresh deceased rat will last for awhile until it gets too stinky and ugly. Maybe a week, Andrew believes.

He thought about giving it a name. If he wants this rat to be his new pet, it needs to have a name to go by, like all pets have. Andrew brainstormed, a furrow between his brows. Is this rat a male or female? He doesn't bother to check. Yellow teeth, small and white as snow, covered in dark blood..

Once satisfied with his choice, Andrew sneered with a twisted stomach.

"Welcome home.. Andrew."

With Andrew in hand, he laughs.