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+---- Thread: HOW COULD I FORGET MY NAME? (/showthread.php?tid=16374)
HOW COULD I FORGET MY NAME? - SETHIRAM - 06-30-2022
WHAT'S IN YOUR HEAD, IN YOUR HEAD!
Just keep running. The thought pursued him consistently, and that's just what he did. While his paws ran over grass and leaves and rocks and dirt, his mind did not perceive it. He felt like he was running on air, and it was disorienting. Only at night, when he could not bear to run any longer, would he collapse onto the earth, a scared, pathetic mess.
This night was such a night. Hiding in an old animal den - whoever it belonged to was long gone, the feline was scribbling wildly in his journal. There was no coherent theme of the 'artwork', just messy lines that vaguely made out a giant beast. This will forever be in your memory, why do you scribble? and he had no answer for The One. Just consistent scribbling.
What is your name. The One urged, making Sethiram stop. "what?" What is your name. Sethiram bit his lip, and he shook his head. He knew his name. His name. The name given by his mother. The name that he held so deeply. Yes, he knew his name. His name. His name, how could he ever forget? His name. What his name? He could never forget, yes. No, he could never forget his name... His name.
Curling up into a little ball, he tried to remember. His name. Given to him by his mother. A name that would be etched into memory, as a king, a prince, a god. His name. What was it? What was his name? What is your name. And he shook his head. "I don't... I don't- I don't know!" The One sighed in his head, Sethiram. And the boy relaxed. Yes.
Sethiram. Sethiram, the prince. Sethiram, the king. Sethiram, the god. Sethiram. His name was, is, Sethiram. You are Sethiram Zyro Akumhet. His breathing steadied, and he slouched. You are my Vessel. Bound by a curse, and you alone are suffering these consequences. But even if the curse was broken, there was no way to repair Sethiram. His memory loss wouldn't be fixed, nor would the hallucinations.
That matters little. We would be free of each other. You would live your life here, I would go back to our old world and live there. And Sethiram sighed, gathered his things, and nosed his way out of the den. The sun was rising. I would finally spit in his face for what he did to us. "Spit in his face twice." Of course, kid. and then began another session of constant running.
This night was such a night. Hiding in an old animal den - whoever it belonged to was long gone, the feline was scribbling wildly in his journal. There was no coherent theme of the 'artwork', just messy lines that vaguely made out a giant beast. This will forever be in your memory, why do you scribble? and he had no answer for The One. Just consistent scribbling.
What is your name. The One urged, making Sethiram stop. "what?" What is your name. Sethiram bit his lip, and he shook his head. He knew his name. His name. The name given by his mother. The name that he held so deeply. Yes, he knew his name. His name. His name, how could he ever forget? His name. What his name? He could never forget, yes. No, he could never forget his name... His name.
Curling up into a little ball, he tried to remember. His name. Given to him by his mother. A name that would be etched into memory, as a king, a prince, a god. His name. What was it? What was his name? What is your name. And he shook his head. "I don't... I don't- I don't know!" The One sighed in his head, Sethiram. And the boy relaxed. Yes.
Sethiram. Sethiram, the prince. Sethiram, the king. Sethiram, the god. Sethiram. His name was, is, Sethiram. You are Sethiram Zyro Akumhet. His breathing steadied, and he slouched. You are my Vessel. Bound by a curse, and you alone are suffering these consequences. But even if the curse was broken, there was no way to repair Sethiram. His memory loss wouldn't be fixed, nor would the hallucinations.
That matters little. We would be free of each other. You would live your life here, I would go back to our old world and live there. And Sethiram sighed, gathered his things, and nosed his way out of the den. The sun was rising. I would finally spit in his face for what he did to us. "Spit in his face twice." Of course, kid. and then began another session of constant running.
ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE!
teef