FEELINGS | Dream & Georgenotfound

Uncertainty [Part 1]

Content Warning: Abuse, Child Abuse, Body Image
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No matter how hard he tried to forget; they wouldn't stop. For the longest time he thought they'd go away eventually, dissolve into nothing. But they didn't. His nightmares kept bringing him back to the deep hole he was trying to climb out of. Every time he tried to climb out, the rope covered in sharp blades of glass cut him, making it impossible.

Nothing made sense when he was child. His mother left him at such a young age; the process of imaging her was almost impossible. He often wondered what she looked like. Does she have long hair, short hair? Is it brown, blonde? What color are her eyes? Although, there was no point in wondering; if she cared even the slightest bit, she would've stayed.

His only recollection of her was bits and pieces. Small figure, darker hair, but her face; he could barely remember, it could really be anyone that he passes by on the street, a stranger, a truly terrifying thought. But he always held on to the slightest chance, the smallest bit of hope that maybe one day, he'll see her.

Thinking about being the outcast hurt too much. He spent most of his days wondering why he was so disconnected from everyone else; the entire planet really. Maybe he was ugly, unattractive, or simply, he wasn't meant to fit in anywhere. But thinking about what did he do to deserve all the pain never made sense. Over time, acceptance became a numbing medicine to the never ending thorns that stabbed him deeply.

They'd reach her, right? She must have seen them.

George fumbled with the colored pencils, unknowingly mis-spelling some of the words he written on the notebook paper he took from school. He'd been daring; even taking some colored pencils from another desk and asking for an envelope he asked from his teacher, something he'd only do in times like this.

He looked at the letter he wrote. It was perfect, he knew she would love this one, she had too. Each letter was carefully written with so much effort and love. He folded the letter and inserted it inside the envelope, licking the adhesive to make it stick. The front needed one last touch.

"To: Mommy, Form: Georgie." He'd unknowingly spelt the word "from" incorrectly. He drew some hearts all over to make it look pretty. George smiled at the letter. He got up from the table and quietly walked over to the living room to check. His father was asleep on the couch surrounded by bottles and cans, snoring into the silence.

George ran to the front door and went outside. Thankfully, the mailbox was down the street from his house. George happily walked along the sidewalk and made it to the mailbox. He looked at the envelope and hugged it. He hoped she would write back one day. But he knew she was reading each letter he wrote.

George slipped the envelope in the box and ran back to his house, he coincidentally saw the mail car driving to collect the mail where he just dropped it off. He watched the mail man collect the mail from the box and bring it inside the car. George jumped in excitement. He opened the front door and ran to his room, jumping onto the bed. He could only wonder where she was, what she was doing. But he knows his mom was thinking about him everyday, just like how he thinks of her; there was no way she wasn't.

I know that dad doesn't love me. But I hope you do mommy. I'm not mad at you. I'll always love you. I'll be waiting for you.

George smiled and hugged his pillow.

Please write back. Please.

He gripped onto the bed sheets. Even though his reality was broken; the universe had to work in his favor, they must've magically been sent to her in some way. There had to be someone who cared back then, at least one person. George sighed.