34 || A Lovely Traumatic Childhood

12 2 18
                                    

Kellen was around seven when he stared at the snow outside. It was his first time seeing it after two years of being sick.

It was just his luck to catch a disease while so young. He remembers being nothing but a little child running around outside before a terrible pain made him collapse on the ground, scraping his knees in the process. Even his face had a few scratches on it when his mother found him lying there on the ground writhing in pain. He was only four.

"Kellen, can you hear me?"

He could tell his mother was holding his chin, tilting his face up so he could look at her. However, his vision was swaying and he couldn't tell what he was looking at. Everything was hazy, everything was unclear, and he couldn't even tell what was being said to him. Couldn't make out her words as she spoke.

All he knew was that he was so tired, so out of it, and he could feel himself being lifted from the ground by his father who came after his mother had called out for him.

Many things happened after that.

There was crying from his mother who believed that he would die, and his father scoured everywhere for a healer who could diagnose the disease he was suffering from. The best of the best came to visit, but none could give his parents much hope of his survival. Kellen stayed bedridden for two years as they came and went.

There were even ghosts that came by, summoned by his own father.

More often than not, Kellen could hear murmurs near his room before his father would walk in and lead one of the spirits he was talking to into Kellen's room. He was desperately consulting everyone, dead or alive, but nobody ever found a solution. Nobody could offer any real help.

Kellen's condition was a difficult one, the situation was hopeless, and so when his mother came to his bedside with tears in her eyes, he knew that he was dying.

"I am only six." He remembers saying, feeling cynical even at that young age. "I don't want to die yet."

Taking his little hand in hers, his mother nodded her head. "I don't want you to die, too. Please don't leave me."

A heavy sigh came out of his father who was standing in the corner watching them sadly, and he walked up to his wife trying to comfort her in this difficult time. "He might actually survive this."

"I know he might. I know." Kellen stared silently at his mother as she sniffed and wiped away a tear. "I am just afraid of the possibility that he might not. I can't-"

The door slammed open so suddenly that it made both of his parents jump in surprise. They both looked at the person standing at the door while Kellen let out a weak laugh at the way they got scared before he held his stomach in pain. The groan he let out made his mother tighten her hold on his hands.

"Are you okay?"

Nodding his head, Kellen watched as a tall hooded woman entered his room grumbling as she did so. There was a bag she was carrying as she entered, and she flung it on his bed making it hit his father's head in the process.

"What's everyone crying about here?" She asked even though Kellen's room was clearly filled with every type of medicine one could think of.

He decided to empty his stomach all over her bag right at that moment.

The glare he got almost made him laugh. "Useless brat."

"Sorry." He apologized, not really meaning it, but she merely waved her hand and cleaned off his vomit before she proceeded to open her bag to reveal a plethora of potions. Each one looked as delicious as the other, and Kellen was tempted to drink them all but his nausea was preventing him from actually doing so.

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