WHAT REMAINS | {R}[X]

WHAT REMAINS | {R}[X]

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación dom, may 25, 2025
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Ficción
Misterio
A boy abandoned, lost and small, left with a stranger, and no one to call. His heart shatters quietly, a silent cry, as he is left to wonder "why, why, why?" A fuzzy companion, rough with wear, handled so harshly, bound to tear. Fuzzy ears left to rot, years go by, and the tears have now clot. A journal, his only friend in the night, he writes his pain, seeking some light. In the pages, his truth is spun, a boy, alone, just waiting for the sun.
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I'm falling... Falling, helplessly and inevitably; completely at the mercy of the forces dragging me down. Having to trust in an entity's blind intentions and praying to God that they won't let me hit the ground. It's an incredible and horrifying feeling. A feeling that I live for. And I have realized that having something to live for makes you all the more scared of dying. (Constant uploads, and even more editing to older uploads)

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