I Used To Be…

[Ryno]

I remember the day it all started. My parents sat me down on the couch, their faces solemn and serious. They told me that they were getting a divorce. Looking back, I realize I was too young to fully understand the gravity of what that meant.

At first, it didn't seem so bad. My parents still spoke to each other, albeit with a bit more tension in their voices. They still tucked me in at night and made my breakfast in the morning. But as the weeks and months went on, I noticed something off.

It started with the photographs. I always loved looking at old family photos, marveling at how young my parents looked and how much I'd grown. But one day I noticed something strange - I wasn't in any of the new photos. It was like I'd been erased from the family album.

I asked my parents about it, but they just brushed me off. "Oh, we forgot to take a picture of you," my mom would say. But it kept happening, until eventually I stopped asking altogether.

The next thing to disappear were my belongings. It started with small things - a toy here, a shirt there. But soon it escalated to more important things, like my computer and my bike. I remember screaming at my parents, asking why they were taking my things, but they never gave me an answer. It was like I didn't exist to them anymore.

The third thing to go was my voice. I don't mean figuratively, either. I woke up one morning and my throat was completely sapped of sound. I tried to call for my parents, but only a croaky whisper came out. They seemed annoyed with me, like I was faking it.

It was then that I started to realize the truth - my parents didn't care about me. They weren't purposely erasing me from their lives, they just didn't care enough to keep me there.

As the months turned into years, things only got worse. I stopped going to school, I stopped eating, and I stopped trying to talk. I didn't see the point in anything if no one noticed me anyway.

The memories started fading next. I couldn't remember anything from before the divorce. I'd try to think back on the times my parents took me to the beach, or the day I got my first bike, but it was like trying to grasp at fog.

By the time my body started withering away, I was too weak to care. I'd stare at the ceiling all day, watching the cobwebs grow around me. My parents would occasionally wander into my room to fight, but they never even looked at me. I was invisible to them.

Then, one day, I gave up. All the pain, the sadness, the confusion - it weighed too heavily on me. My body gave out, and I passed into some sort of void. I didn't feel anything, didn't hear anything. It was peaceful.

When I woke up, everything was different. I wasn't in my room anymore, or even in my old house. I was in some sort of ether, where I was just a collection of thoughts and memories. I watched as my parents went their separate ways, still angry and bitter over whatever had caused them to split up in the first place.

But eventually, they moved on. They found new partners, started new families. And through it all, I watched from afar, a ghostly presence doomed to wander forever.

Over time, even my memories of them started to fade. I couldn't tell you their names, or their faces, or what they had done to me. It was like the universe had forgotten me.

I don't know if there's an afterlife, or a higher power, or anything like that. But if there is, I hope they don't make the same mistake my parents did. I hope they notice when someone is gone. I hope they care.

[Wuxia]

This was fire.

[Alice]

Well, this was definitely different. The premise kind of reminded me of a short story, the Shrinking Man, but this was less philosophically inclined and without the existential exploration to it. Felt more pragmatic in its approach which I appreciate because it feels more authentic. The beginning was intriguing and sort of kept the reader engaged. Thanks