He was lost.
No.
He was forgotten.
Yes.
Forgotten.
They used to check on him.
They were gone.
No pain.
Pain happened every day.
Not today.
Or yesterday.
Outside, there were others.
He looked at the door. The door he knew before he could not open.
He closed his eyes.
He could feel them.
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The others.
They were crying.
They were hungry.
They were…
He reached out to them, in his mind he reached. There in the darkness, they were like little lights.
Like stars.
What were stars?
He couldn’t remember.
He couldn’t remember a lot of things. He couldn’t remember who he was. He couldn’t remember where he was.
This is the bad place.
He needed to get out.
So, he reached out to the others that he could only see when he closed his eyes. He felt something tingle inside his head, almost a tickle.
One of them was strong.
He sent his light toward the strong one.
The room shook.
He stepped back.
The door was ripped open.
There was the strong one.
The strong one looked at him.
He left the room.
He went to find the others.
The other lights.
They found them.
The others followed.
Stars.
He remembers stars as he looks up.
The others breathe beside him, looking up too.
The others aren’t hungry anymore.
The others are sad.
But not lost.
They have him.
They know to follow.
He doesn’t know where.
His arms hang by his side before he looks down at himself. Tattered dark clothes. Something bulges in a pocket. He picks it.
It’s brown.
But he can see it even in the dark.
He opens it, his head tilting to the side as he looks down at an image of two young others. Something flutters in his chest.
Sad.
Something else. Something else other than sad.
Longing.
He misses them.
He tilts his head to the other side.
What a strange feeling…
Find the young others.
That’s where they will go.
To find the young others.
