It's my soul...
Ash thought, as his gaze lingered on the swirling fragments of memory he had long tried to bury.
They hovered there in silence, like fragile glass shards spinning through the void, each one a moment he had wanted to forget.
But now, he couldn't look away. And with every passing second, they dug deeper into his chest, sharp and merciless.
He saw himself as a child, far too young to understand the weight of loss, yet old enough to feel the world collapsing around him.
When his parents died, it wasn't just their lives that vanished.
Everything they had left behind—the house, the savings, even their warmth—was taken away by his own relatives without a second thought.
And back then, he was just a kid who couldn't do anything about it, no matter how much it hurt.
Every day after that felt like a nightmare.
No one listened.
No one helped.
The ones with the power to lift him up chose instead to look away.
He faced bullying from those around him, again and again.
