I was miserable. Being forced to relive the trauma of my childhood over and over was mind-numbingly painful. It was to the point where I could no longer shed tears of sadness, anger, or resentment because I had seen it so many times. My heart hurt yet my head refused to give in to such weakness any longer.
And in between that break of a day or two, where I sat in an endless web of baby blue and black memories, a figure appeared. After what seemed to be months, that asshole had finally revealed himself after watching me suffer.
Long baby blue hair, with shimmering golden stars for eyes, made his entire presence pop. He had the body and voice of a kid but acted like some deranged adult whose sanity had slipped long ago. He wore a set of mage robes that slung heavily across his entire body, making it look more like a pile of blankets rather than actual clothing.
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