Author's note: The main antagonist of this story's POV is reflected through this poem. It's implied it's someone who has had a major family member death during their childhood. (That's several of the characters in this story, both grownups and college students, so who it could be is still a mystery.) This is set before the story starts canonically.
(Reminder: This is an additional chapter that is not part of the main story, just adds context for the antagonist's actions.)
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Pieces strewn across the floor,
an older man stands at the door.
"Leave me alone", I call out
"Everyone thinks I'm a lout"
He points to the sky
and promises I'll soon fly.
"Humans can't do that,
they'll just splat".
"What if we dream up a world
where your doubts are furled?
Restore life to the way it once was
if you but follow our cause".
I don't hesitate,
my tears soon abate.
"Let the games begin",
I reply with a Cheshire grin.
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Vocab Notes:
Lout-awkward stupid person (usually used for males or boys, can be used for others)
furled- neatly or securely rolled up
abate- to decrease in intensity
Author's note: This was written with a specific theme in mind-grief and the various ways it is channeled.(In this case...well you can guess it might not be the right way.) And yes, this is the origin story of a certain character in this story, the main antagonist. (They might have a reason to hate humans...just saying.)
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Aphelion
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