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Death.

Words that described it.

Pain.

Darkness.

And loneliness.

Yet, I was aware -on a conscious level- of such things.

Why?

In death, a person was gone.

No replacement, just a bitter emptiness.

With death, there was nothingness.

But, I knew my name. I lived a life and still retained memories.

How?

If I was dead, then I shouldn't exist.

And yet somehow, I did.

OoO

Light.

A sudden wail.

Air, I breathed it for the first time in my lungs.

My arms and legs flailed and I heard a voice, soft and sweet.

I cried harder, blinking the blurriness from my eyes. Something warm wrapped around me, and I was leaning against a firm but soft surface. I calmed instantly.

"Sweet baby Kyyra," a feminine voice sang into the air, entrancingly, hauntingly beautiful. "Don't you cry. Mama is going to sing you a lullaby."

I blinked watery eyes and opened my small mouth. A coo escaped my lips.

Laughter, sounding like wind chimes, echoed before fading. "Oh sweet Kyyra, you're exactly how we imagined. You're such a beautiful baby girl. Hair and skin like mama's and eyes just like daddy's."

I made another coo and the person, my mother, holding me clutched me closer. I closed my eyes, feeling soothed for that time.

OoO

Bars restrained me.

Imprisoning me from the world.

I didn't know where I was but glancing down at my useless chubby hands and feet, I was aware of being a baby.

I gurgled, and I heard a chuckle, masculine and deep.

"Kyyra," a low baritone rumbled. "What are you up to?"

I gurgled again, feeling drool roll down my chin.

"I can't believe your mama left me to watch over you. I'm not cut out for this," the man complained but his voice held a hint of humor. A large hand came into view, holding a white handkerchief. The material pressed against my skin and I moved my head away.

The cloth was pulled back. "Ah, I see. It's too rough." A face came into my view and my body jerked. Two different colored eyes, one red and the other blue, stared down at me.

A large hand shifted in my direction and fear bubbled in me. I began to cry.

"No, Kyyra," he was shaking his head, uneven brown and red locks swaying with his motion. "Don't cry. I'm going to get one of your teddy bears." He seemed alarmed.

I didn't want my teddy bear. I wanted mama. I cried louder.

He put a white teddy bear in front of me and started shaking it. "See Mr. Teddy Bear. He's..."

He took the teddy away. "He's... I don't know."

And something strange happened, my crying died down.

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