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boxfullofzeroesChara ran.
They could hear their parents in pursuit. They knew what they had been thinking: "We can't tell anybody to help us, because hardly anybody knows this kid is ours. They're too dangerous to be let outside. They need to be kept in a cage."
Well, Chara was tired of being kept in the basement. They were tired of being tied down. They were tired of being a prisoner. They weren't going to waste this breath of freedom--they were going to take hold, and never let go.
They hid; down in alleyways, on heightened windowsills, a red-eyed shadow in the night. They needed to get out of here. They needed to run.
This was different than trying to run in the day. Nobody was around to get in their way. It was dark, humans feared the dark because of things like them, and they used it to their advantage. It was slow-going--stealth is something that required patience. And for this goal, they had plenty of it.
They peep around the corner of an alleyway leading to the street, looking around for them from the shadows. In this silence, sound gave away more than sight, but you could never be too careful. The street seemed empty; the lampposts shined, exposing anything that dare walk into its light. They could see nothing, so they settle, tension coiling in their muscles, and listen.
…
Their heart drops.
B e h i n d y o u.
Chara whirls around. They've underestimated their parents who are now running at them, and now they'll pay for it in full with their blood unless they do something about it, and this is the closest they've ever been. They're not ready to let go.
"There you are, you little beast!"
Treated like an animal, acting like an animal.
Chara snarls, baring their teeth, sweeps up a nearby rock and hurls it at point-blank range.
It collides with the forehead of their mother. She collapses, bleeding, and it's all the distraction Chara needs to escape their stepfather and run, and run, and keep running and never, ever stop. They run far beyond this hellish village, through fields of golden flowers, under sparkling night, all the way into the woods of the next town over, where finally they collapse from exhaustion. Their lungs burn and hurt, they've a stabbing pain beneath their ribcage, and their body feels so heavy that they just can't keep going. They have to stop, though they loathe to admit it.
Something wet is on their face. At first they think the trees dripped on them, until they put a hand on their eyes to rest.
They're crying.
Chara passes out.
They could hear their parents in pursuit. They knew what they had been thinking: "We can't tell anybody to help us, because hardly anybody knows this kid is ours. They're too dangerous to be let outside. They need to be kept in a cage."
Well, Chara was tired of being kept in the basement. They were tired of being tied down. They were tired of being a prisoner. They weren't going to waste this breath of freedom--they were going to take hold, and never let go.
They hid; down in alleyways, on heightened windowsills, a red-eyed shadow in the night. They needed to get out of here. They needed to run.
This was different than trying to run in the day. Nobody was around to get in their way. It was dark, humans feared the dark because of things like them, and they used it to their advantage. It was slow-going--stealth is something that required patience. And for this goal, they had plenty of it.
They peep around the corner of an alleyway leading to the street, looking around for them from the shadows. In this silence, sound gave away more than sight, but you could never be too careful. The street seemed empty; the lampposts shined, exposing anything that dare walk into its light. They could see nothing, so they settle, tension coiling in their muscles, and listen.
…
Their heart drops.
B e h i n d y o u.
Chara whirls around. They've underestimated their parents who are now running at them, and now they'll pay for it in full with their blood unless they do something about it, and this is the closest they've ever been. They're not ready to let go.
"There you are, you little beast!"
Treated like an animal, acting like an animal.
Chara snarls, baring their teeth, sweeps up a nearby rock and hurls it at point-blank range.
It collides with the forehead of their mother. She collapses, bleeding, and it's all the distraction Chara needs to escape their stepfather and run, and run, and keep running and never, ever stop. They run far beyond this hellish village, through fields of golden flowers, under sparkling night, all the way into the woods of the next town over, where finally they collapse from exhaustion. Their lungs burn and hurt, they've a stabbing pain beneath their ribcage, and their body feels so heavy that they just can't keep going. They have to stop, though they loathe to admit it.
Something wet is on their face. At first they think the trees dripped on them, until they put a hand on their eyes to rest.
They're crying.
Chara passes out.
