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When I first saw him, he was smiling and playing nice with everyone around him. He was bright, easy-going and funny. Somehow, that annoyed me. It seemed so... fake.When I kept staring, he noticed me. His lips trembled and I thought he was gonna cry. But no. He smiled to me with more sincerity than to everyone else in the room, what a dork. He looked dumb and I told him so."I just felt peaceful while seeing you" he said. What a joke.Nevertheless, we became... friends, I guess. There was something that pulled me to him, no matter what I tried to do to avoid him, sometimes even going out of my way to not see him just for him to pop out from freaking nowhere."My name is Frisk. What's yours?"He was weird. Rarely expressed what he really felt but his silence spoke to me, or something like that. Weird, I know. None of the other kids seemed to experience it the same as me, though, so I kept silent. What a weird boy.This place is peaceful, filled with the laughs of the other kids and the caretakers that give us food. We're free to do whatever I want. I like that, but... sometimes... When I sleep, I dream of another world. A place very far from this house where we all live. I remember a white creature, covered in fur, back when I was little. Back when I wasn't in this orphanage. But, that doesn't make sense. I've always been here, isn't that right? It hurts my head to think too much about this. I let the topic lay, just as I always do.It's not just when I'm asleep, though. The problem continues on the day as well. Mirrors have always been weird. I don't see me. Or, maybe, more accurately, I don't see the current me. Maybe I'm wearing a jacket, but my mirror self is wearing a sweater. Maybe it's a t-shirt and she wears a coat. Small things...Until they weren't.Am I going mad? I hope not.One time, though, in the mirror... It wasn't me at all.
There was a skeleton wearing the same hoodie I was, smiling, staring, his pitch black eyes staring lifelessly at me.
Am I mixing my dreams with my reality? Now, all I see are shadows and a talking flower.Sometimes, he it mocks me.Sometimes, he it teases me.Sometimes, he it warns me.About what, though, I'm not sure. I never remember that part. Is it the shadows? This place?...Is it him? Frisk?But no, that's absurd. Why would I need to beware of Frisk?Beware... Now, that sounds familiar.
There is someone in that darkness, he looks at me and I look back. He smiles, patiently, like he is waiting for something, like he knows something I don't. It scares me.
Meh. It's probably nothing.
you are aware of what's happening, even if it's not
consciously.
that makes us aware, too.
Don't you get it?
Once your soul gets its trait, you're as good as dead.