In an unknown place, drifting someone was. Or more correctly something. With a faint hue. A soul it was.
It felt so cold, I felt so cold. Is this what death feels like. Probably not considering I'm still alive. Or atleast feels like it.
I don't feel my arms or legs, really my entire body. But it doesn't feel as weird as I thought. As if it's a natural state of some kind, yes. That might be the answer. But in fact who knows.
I can't remember anything. As much as I try I can't. All I know is that I was 14, a boy, and most of all I was lonely, really lonely in fact.
And it hurt, it hurt so so bad. So bad it felt as if someone grasped my very being and squeezed it with all their might with the intent to cause me pain.
That's probably why I'm here, yes that's probably it.
But now I'm finally at peace, maybe being alone isn't so bad.
And with that I felt my consciousness finally slipping away.
In a fairly large manor, you could see servants hurriedly rushing to get items and comforters. They were in a rush and appeared to have frantic faces.
In truth, the mistress of the manor was going to have a baby.
She was going through intense pain as she tried to push the baby out.
To comfort her through the labor she had her head put on an elevated pillow and a hot rag over her head to keep her temperature regulated as she pushed the baby out.