Torn to Pieces
When you first came across the blue-haired boy, he was a mere shell of himself. His matching blue eyes were dull and lifeless and his voice did not want to work for him. You found him in a dark alleyway, knees tucked tight into his small body. His clothes were torn and dirty, as if he had been wearing them for a while.
Despite how lifeless his eyes were, you can see sadness lurking deep within their depths. It was clear to you that something tragic had happened to this boy.
Of course, being the bleeding heart that you were, you decided to take him into your home – the fact that he went with you so willingly worried you.
You borrowed clothes from the neighbor’s kid and showed the boy to the bathroom. He didn’t know how to turn the water on, which puzzled you. It wasn’t the only thing, either; the most basic of tasks stumped him, yet he still remained stoic. There was a small spark of wonder and curiosity in his eyes when he found the TV. Had he never seen one before?
Everything this boy did made you wonder who is he and where he came from, what hardships he faced in life. He still wasn’t speaking, so you offered him a pen and some paper. His brow furrowed in confusion as he examined the pen – he didn’t know what it was. Did that mean he didn’t know how to write?
“Like this.” You gently took the pen from his hand and wrote your name in a messy scrawl.
His eyes widened and he mouthed something you didn’t catch. He took back the pen and wrote something beside your name: Ciel. His handwriting was neat and elegant like none you had seen before.
You stared at it for a moment, starting to feel self-conscious. Though you hadn’t put any effort into writing your name, it looked absolutely horrid next to his beautiful script. “Ciel? Is that your name?”
He nodded lightly before touching down the pen once more. ‘That’s all I can remember’, he wrote.
He must have amnesia, your brow furrowed in concern. “Don’t force yourself, it’ll only do more harm than good. Don’t worry,” you set your hand on top of his head, ruffling his hair lightly. “You can stay here as long as you need to. I’ll keep you safe while you recover your memory.”
He stared up at you for a moment before nodding softly. It only lasted a brief moment, but you were sure that you saw some warmth in his eyes. You knew at that moment that you hadn’t made a mistake. Even though years passed without him recovering any of his memories, you never once regretted taking the boy into your home.