Touch it. Touch it.

There where it feels so good.

A little rub. Sensually up and down his thigh.

It feels so good, this feeling that he's getting high.

Just a little more, he whispers to the shadow. Just enough to let me feel it.

And the shadow just smiles (with lips that belonged to the boy by birth, but the boy had never thought to use them) while he keeps touching the boy.

maerd a me gnis

They throw rocks, and sticks, and, most of the times when they get him cornered and trapped like a rat in the mystical woods. Words. That hurt more than the physical duration of any sharpened sword.

They leave scars festering like maggots on his mind. Teases? Just enough to know he was the great Deku's only mistake.

They hurt him, beat. Thrash him until he regrets blossoming (as in the mystical fairytales) from the limbs of the great Deku.

(MISTAKEMISTAKEMISTAKEcorrectMISTAKEMISTAKE)

The Children of the great Deku grow bored of his screams within the hour, and they retreat into the opening fields of the Deku, while the boy leans against a stump and cries out little diamonds.

Can you play with me? he whispers through his tears to his lone shadow.

Touch it. There.

Make me feel whole.

I want to go to sleep.

Touch there.

Please?

The Children watch as the Deku calls a grand council for the boy. There's envy and hatred, and fear in their eyes as they watch the boy (and his pet shadow) walk with his head pointed towards the ground, steps cautious and foreboding over to the room of the great Deku.

One of the Children shouts something vulgar at the boy, followed by the cherubic sound of another Child, followed by the fey sounds of another.

Soon a murderous mass is amounting, as the boy, walking through the crowd, bites his lip and tries not to cry.

Touch it there.

Pull harder. Scream. Stop.

Stop. Pull harder. Scream.

I had a dream yesterday. We were all friends.

Imagine that girl, Saria that you like.

We were holding hands, and you stopped touching me.

Takes the pain away.

Pull harder. Sigh. Stop.

The shadow tips his head to the side. His eyes (so much red and different than the boys!) agree to being the boy's only friend.

Only friend.

No light. No light.

At night. At night.

Touch there. Rub here.

Pull. Milk. Just so you feel it.

Never forget me, eh?

When the pack of wolfos scream at the moon, the shadow plays with the boy. And the boy screams, terrifying and plaguing the other Children with nightmares of pigs and goblins and kings and darkness.

It is not a scream of pain.

Grand Council of the Deku has agreed to lend his service to his favorite Child that was never his. He is cursed, dying God sending his distress to a Child that isn't His.

Just love. He preaches to the boy, then sends him off his merry way. Deku feels the growing sentiment lingering in the boy's shadow, but He ignores it as the grand one feels the parasite wound, and dig, and eat in his body.

wenn die armen Kinder schlafen drum schlaf auch du

Touch. Here. There.

Pull.

You think about boys now?

Why are they so different from girls.

Pull harder. Scream.

I don't want you as a friend any more.

Too bad.

Great Deku sends the precious gift of light to the boy next morning. The shadow disappears like sand blowing in the winds, dispelled by the warmth of the light.

That night, the boy slept peacefully without any night terrors.

Shadows of sand accumulate at the edges of his lashes like cyrstallized candy, and when The Boy wakes up, he tastes the esscence of bruning wood at the back of his throat.

Never forget me.

disclaimer.