triplets

Part 8

It's a queer thing. Having the mentality of an adult and the mental capacity of a toddler. Incongruent memories feel more like dreams or fantasies and wisps of the past only serve to cement the confusion.

The maturity of adulthood doesn't fade but the rationality behind it is vague.

It was the ability to see the world around you clearly while living within a fog. Penelope Henituse was the last among her siblings trapped in this fog and as such, she was treated to the not unique feeling at all of feeling left out.

In the week following Cale's collapse in the palace and Cale's sudden and confusing outburst that followed, a sense of normality had returned to the trio. Only that normalcy was hinged on Penelope not paying any mind to the number of hushed conversations between her brothers. She also got the distinct feeling that she was somehow being babied which didn't fill her with soft and fluffy feelings either.

Some way or another, she was sure that they were concealing something from her and it definitely had something to do with Cale's reaction that day. While Cale had apologized to her profusely for his behavior and in the moment, the words had settled her shaken heart, she couldn't help but feel as though her brothers were further away than ever before.

It was a distance that cut deep into a wound that she was only barely aware existed inside of her.

Her hand rested on her stomach as the echo of a memory played across her vision, a phantom pain and the horrible sound of chewing as her entire life became summarized in one word: meal.

In a strange way, it was a comforting rumination for her. When she became too panicked about being alone or brothers or rain all she had to do was rest her hand on her stomach to remember that there were worse things than any of the above.

In a hilarious way, the memory of that pain didn't hurt as much as the pain that weighed down her heart. The years spent without any sense of home–

But then, the memory always had a harsh end. The indignant realization that she had been stolen from. That she could work every day of her life to attain freedom and autonomy and peace and that home could be torn away from her in one horrible injustice.

It was the piercing knowledge that life was not fair.

In a video game, if you were to grind for hours upon hours you would in fact see results in that fantasy world. Real life was different. No amount of grinding could save you from a cruel fate.

Video games, as a concept that were incongruent with the reality Penelope currently lived in, were thought of and then immediately dismissed. Penelope had too many thoughts like that to focus on any one of them. Sometimes she would think passively about cars or airplanes and as no such things existed in this world, they were dismissed just as easily.

The human mind was exceptionally good at avoiding thinking about matters that might upset its perception of reality. Well, unless it's about three in the morning and the poor bastard is trying in vain to get some sleep before an activity of great importance.

Luckily for Penelope, she had no great trouble getting sleep at night so the demon of three in the morning rarely struck out against her.

This also meant that she was free to ruminate on upsetting matters all throughout the day and today she was doing just that as she glowered at her huddled siblings. They thought they were being so discreet.

Indignation steadily built inside of her as she took it all too personally. It was an ugly feeling to feel unwanted from any group of people, but from those that one held dear? Penelope was struggling with the insecurity that cropped up all sorts of petty emotions. It came in stages but ultimately it always boiled down to anger and sadness.