Prologue
Another day just like any other, the boy lay on the mattress wasting away. With bags under closed eyes, the child dreamed. Under the warm covers while the sun beamed through the windows, he lay motionless with only the soft movement of his chest from breathing being noticeable.
For hours and hour, he lay there. For hours and hours no one came, not again. After hours and hours of idleness in the dusty small room, a mere pitter patter started outside the cobweb covered window. Drop by drop, and the greyer the clouds became, the boy finally awoke slowly opening his empty eyes.
Raising his arms from the comfort of the warm cloth to the cold air to rub his eyes, the boy sat up. It was already reaching sun set once again, and yet once again nobody came. Desiring something warm besides the covers of his bed, the boy pushed himself up and went to the wardrobe passing a mirror. The mirror reflected a pale child with long and messy black hair with a tear stained face, yet the boy continued onto the wardrobe of his small room.
The creaking of the planks and the quite and quaint breathes of the boy resounded in the room until he finally reached the wardrobe. With a creak of the doors, the gate to his clothes had opened. Residing in the mahogany coffin like cabinet, lay bunches of unfolded clothes.
Reaching for the oversized hoodie and baggy jeans, the boy was ready to go outside his still and empty room.
yet nothing happened, yet nothing happened, yet nothing happened, and yet nothing changed.
The young child outside his room, wandered the silent halls of his home. The tearing dark blue walls with water dripping down the sides, and the empty tables, the room had never changed since that day. Everything progressed, yet nothing completely decayed.
With a thunderous boom, the hallways were illuminated once more and dusty paintings of unrecognizable faces entered the boys visions, and he turned to face them to stare.
Stare the young boy did, stare he did at the paintings, detailed portraits depicting a smiling plump man with a blushing woman next to him. Between the playful couple's arms there were always three children, an ever smiling bright lad, an abrasive and sassy lass, and a younger more weak child.
The smile he once had, he had tried donning again, yet the pain in his heart prevented him. The tears in his eyes had tried coming out yet the pain of their deaths had been replaced with the self-loathing of his terrible self. The boy stared some more, then continued walking towards the kitchen.
The boy could no longer hear the whimpering of the floorboards, the impacts of the rain, or the cries of the sky. His head was filled with the voices of those he had failed. The sweet voice of his mother was venomous and spiteful, the jolly voice of his father was replaced with unbearable and agonizing screams, his sister's sassy squeals were replaced by noises of scratching and collapsing, and his youngest treasure's voice was replaced by burying and weeping.
The boy's eyes grew emptier just like usual, and the boy continued walking his heavy steps passing by the relics of a bygone era, until a decorated doorframe came into view.
The door between the doorframe had terribly drawn sketches put against the entire thing peeling off and the doorknob was covered in now dull and scratched stickers. Twisting the aged knob to push it, a sickeningly saccharine scent creeped into his nose.
Laying on a simple wooden table surrounded by five stools, lay a singular slice of cake. The frosting covering it was a clear white, the layers below the slice a golden brown, and the filling between layers a strawberry red. The boy stared and stared, as yet again nobody came.
This dream of his hadn't ended, and in the end he was still alone. A gift for him, a gift for him, he finally knew what he wanted.
Staring at the dully lit candle on the slice, staring at the only thing illuminating his vision, he for the thousandth time blew the candle for his birthday wish.
But instead of this sickening loneliness, instead of this dream, all he wanted now was a friend who would be there for him. All he wanted was someone to help him atone.
