when we were young

hellos

WALL ROSE: TROST DISTRICT
YEAR 843

jean's point of view

~

the sun had set some time ago.

an hour or two had passed since jean settled into this hunched over the desk position.

this shitty, worn out, wooden desk.

the desk looked even worse right now, covered in lead shavings and scraped drawings.

jean hadn't even noticed the sun went down, too focused on the work on front of him.

he had been working on a simple sketch of a landscape for the past hour, but it wasn't coming out to his satisfaction

he had taken up the hobby of sketching pretty recently.

well, ever since his father passed away.

it had just been jean and his mom now, for little over a year by now.

which had been something to say the least.

his mom had become clingy since the loss of her husband. maybe it was because jean was an only child and the only close family she had left. or maybe it was because she saw so much of jean's father in him and just wanted to be close to him because she missed him.

whatever reason it was, jean couldn't handle it. he was still young and mourning in his own way, and having his mom suffocate him was overwhelming him.

losing his dad and having the situation with his mom gave him a horrible anxiety disorder.

feeling though as he had no person to turn to, to cope with or at least vent to, he noticed taking up the hobby of drawing helped.

although it was a temporary distraction for the mourning and a reason to tell his mom to leave him alone, it was at least something to do.

and he was very talented.

being able to create something beautiful in this cruel world, where you could lose anyone you love at any moment, made him feel a little better. like he was putting some good out there.

however, this landscape drawing was not giving him that serotonin right now.

he sighed as he scraped the piece of paper and grabbed a fresh canvas and began to roll the pencil between his fingers as he thought about his next task.

he thought to himself about the dreams he had been having lately.

in fact, those dreams were all he wanted to think about lately.

not too long after his dad died, he started having these dreams that felt too real. maybe it was a way of his own brain coping or playing tricks on him, but he almost couldn't care.

the dreams would always vary from setting to conversation, but something that was ongoing was the girl he kept seeing in them.

while in the dream, everything always felt so real and personal with her. like there was actually someone there with him, which was nice considering how lonely he had felt this past year.