@saor_illust school
aaa i guess some of yalls words resonated with me
and uh
inspiration
so
i kinda threw this up
it's not great but
i suppose it works
tw for mentions of suicide
~
>> You were found, but will remain lost. <<
The small girl, who couldn't be older than seven years, hugged her knees to her chest, her face hidden away in her legs. An orphan she was no more, but she was still lost. Lost and confused. She broke down crying occasionally, she couldn't help it. She just… missed him so much. Now don't get it wrong, the two of them had just been friends, nothing more than that. No romantic feelings towards the other. But he'd been the one who'd found her that fateful day. Hidden away in the furls of the playground, crying her heart out.
That day was the day she'd been kicked out, thrown away from anything and everything familiar. That day, four years ago. The older boy, with his messy black hair and kind blue eyes offered up his warm peach-ish coloured hand to her, saying, "Are you okay? Come stay with me for awhile, you don't look like you have a place to stay."
And so she'd followed him without question, relief filling her small body. So naive, she believed him when he said he would take care of her for as long as needed. And he wasn't lying when he'd told her this. Though the two of them both had school, him being only 16, he knew what it was like to be abandoned on the street. For there was a reason he'd lived alone since 13. He'd been kicked out by his homophobic mother for being gay, and so he set to work. Stole some money from his father (who, quite honestly, didn't give a shit about him either) and managed to buy a car with his fake as fuck driver's license. At 5"10', he was quite tall, and easily passed as his father.
So he had lived in his car for the last two years, and had only managed to buy himself an apartment just five months ago. She'd come with him, of course, but then he'd… just disappeared. And the next week, the news came. Suicide, was the word the police had used. She turned to her right, about to ask him what the word meant when she remembered he wasn't there anymore. She knew his passwords to everything. So she ran away from the station, back to his apartment where she tried to quickly search up the word. The results on Google were full of words she didn't know. But one thing she did know– death.
It appeared that he was dead, was he, now? She laughed softly. It couldn't be. He didn't die. He would never try to die on purpose, leaving her behind, would he? He couldn't. He'd never let himself die like that. It was impossible. When she was interrupted by a young police officer who came into the room after her, she laughed again. "Jokes aside, where is he?" she demanded. "I know he's not dead. He can't be, so tell me where he is."
Even now, it still seemed like a cruel, cruel joke. Even after she'd learned what the word meant. It was just… impossible. The lingering words of the older people she'd been forced to speak with. …you'll feel lost and alone for awhile. You're in pain, I know. I promise you, things get easier as time goes on, alright? Stay strong for me, alright?
Once more, the tears flowed. They flowed so freely, spilling out of her eyes and down her cheeks. People don't die, she thought to herself. That's not how life works. They aren't supposed to take the people who mean the world to you away. That's not how death works, she thought bitterly.
