Loose Strings

The shadows held Aiera's position secret as he moved along the nearly deserted streets. Every limb connected to his body, no, every joint connecting his body was creaking in agony. Every time sound reached his ears it took a moments time to process before he finally cringed at the sudden sound. It was a bother to listen to and made it even more difficult to make his way through the village.

In this tiny village, though he's seen seem many things advance the past few years from the fashions to the structures, everyone always seemed to know everyone. Aiera didn't want his identity to catch wind, if that happened things would become too hectic and furthermore, he just wouldn't be able to stand it because then he'd most likely see his family, whom would send him to the doctors to check up on him. If anything, he would be sent to a therapist to 'cope' with whatever they think might have happened to him while he was away.

In fact, that idea perked his interest. Ever since he was changed, he had not once heard heads or tails of what his family thought happened to him. Aiera couldn't hear through the glass window, nor could he fully read any one person's lips to tell what they were saying anyone happened to take time to look at his missing poster.

His head hung low from that point on as he remembered the shaking of the heads as people stopped. The disappointing look on their faces as they jabbered on with their neighbors about the reasons he is missing. He was certain that many rumors were spread; from kidnapping to run-away and from rape to the possibility that the missing child was a cry for attention. A grimace appeared on his face as he ventured further, turning the corner at an old rusty street sign. As he passed, Aiera ran his fingers along the bumping ridges and cringed at the thought of what he must look like.

It was a curious thought that had been bugging him. He knew his outfit was full of tears and tattered, rugged holes. However, he not once actually looked at his appeared, rather really looked. He might have glanced at his appearance once or twice; however, many people look but truly never see - as Aiera failed to do. He couldn't be certain if the wicked art that the shop owner did stopped his growth, both hair and height(though that was challenged enough as it was). Though his curiosity was overcoming him, he didn't quite want to see his reflection quite yet.

A gust of wind tugged at his clothes and caught his hair, whipping them towards the front of him. The whistle of the wind processed in his mind and along with it can the distant sound of shuffling. He wasn't sure if it was leaves or some person walking along the sidewalk. If anything, it could have even been a trick of his ears. Either way, he stopped in his tracks and listened intently, attempting to shut out the consistent groan of the wind. The shuffling stopped and Aiera shook his head lightly, feeling his hair smack against his face in clumps.

Sighing, Aiera moved forward and ignored the looming sensation that there was something off about the current situation and soon his mind was back on the topic of his appearance.

It would hardly make sense to fix himself up before going to find his family home. One, he had no way of grooming himself and two, the possibility of them even being home at the time was so astonishingly low that he had to laugh at himself for even thinking of the idea.

Aiera shoved his hands deep inside his torn pockets and stuck close to the gray brick walls. Instinctively, Aiera winced when he starting walking in his usual curvy line and scraped his shoulder against the rough siding of the building. Not once has he ever been able to walk in a straight line without focusing intently. And so another tear was added to his shirt, leaving a scrape along his upper arm. Yet, not one drop of blood fell.

He peered around the corner and felt a small smile appear on his face as he recognized the scenery. His pace increased as he passed the old red bench that was along the grass line that led to a small field. His pace turned into an involuntary sprint as soon as he turned the last corner where his house should have been located.

Aiera skidded to a halt and felt every limb go numb, though he could barely feel his limbs as it is. His breath rate increased ten-fold and he began hacking due to lack of extensive use, collapsing to the browned, dry grass.

He shook, as he stared at what used to be his home. Now, it looked nothing of the sort. The house looked as if it held no life whatsoever, the garden in the back was dead, dry and was basically reduced to soil and the door was open, slightly ajar on its hinge.

Aiera crawled forward, inching along the ground to reach the stairs to enter the house. His entire world seemed to be collapsing and his life just took an unexpected twist.

"Hard, isn't it? You just can't believe that they would do such a thing, can you?" A voice echoed from behind his small frame, a short click of the tongue followed not long after and the shuffling of someones' feet began again as clear as day and night.