Feel

by Ezr

Sai lived in an abusive household all his childhood, isolated from the outside world and stripped of all familiarity of his own emotions. In his senior year of high school, he is freed from the mistreatment of his father and allowed to emerge into society for the first time. With the help and support, Sai will experience love he never had and start on a road to recovery.

Sleepless Nights Page | 2

He often pondered what he did to deserve the harsh punishment inflicted upon him in childhood. Many times, his father whipped him until he could no longer stand, and he was never sure why. If he so much as cried or whimpered, he would be punished more severely. He's never done anything to warrant the beatings, he thought, but what did he know? All he could connect with the punishments was emotion. If he happened to show any feeling, however positive or negative, his father was on him immediately. To him, it seemed like his father had been trying to beat the emotion out of him—and it worked.

Eventually, the boy stopped whining and crying when he was hit. He winced still—as anyone would at such agony—but felt nothing at all. It no longer bothered him when his father abused him, nor did it incite old feelings of helplessness and melancholy. He regarded happy scenes with apathy and faced his trauma with a deadpan visage. With each successive blow, his child-like humor faded, anger became foreign. Soon, the once carefree, joyful child was transformed into an obedient machine, quietly awaiting the orders of his heartless master. This didn't bother him, though. He reasoned that something must have been wrong with him if his father felt the need to change him so. He almost liked it better this way, to not be burdened with emotions like others. It made him feel… unique?

Sometimes, though, he wondered what it'd be like to have those feelings again, for his younger self had long become a stranger to him. There were nights when he'd lay awake thinking about it and trying desperately to reach that lost part of himself. He would toss and turn throughout the night, but when morning came he'd give up and forget all about trying to remember.

Presently, the boy, now a teenager, rested on his back on the floor in his room. He'd abandoned his old mattress only moments ago in favor of the carpeted ground, which strangely lent him more comfort. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to lull him into slumber. An odd, unfamiliar feeling tickled his insides and made him shudder, keeping his mind active and alert when he should be tucked into bed.

At this point, he realized how unlikely it was that he'd be sleeping soon and rose to his feet, stretching his long limbs before silently crossing the room to sit at his vanity desk. He scanned the desk briefly for his beloved sketchbook and secured it gently in his hands, fingertips lightly brushing the cover. Since he couldn't sleep, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to draw a little. As far as he knew, the effort might help tire him out a bit and drive out that uneasy feeling he had.

Nodding in affirmation to himself, he set his sketchbook on the desk and opened to a blank page, his hand working to rapidly draw an outline for the image in his mind. In just a few short minutes, it became very clear that the messy lines on the page were a fox. Blankly, he stared at the sketch and added a little more detail to it before shutting the sketchbook. The moment he pushed the book to the side, that same feeling from before crept back into his system, once more making his stomach flutter. He crossed his arms over his upset belly and frowned, thin brows furrowing as he attempted to decipher just what he was feeling. Anger? No, he recalled something once referring to anger as a 'hot' emotion, and he certainly didn't feel hot. Perhaps it was happiness? No, no, that wasn't right. He'd read once that happiness was pleasant. This feeling was anything but. He didn't think it was sadness, either. It wasn't heavy enough for that.

Slowly, he reached for one of the books on his vanity and flipped through it, eyes skimming through each emotion listed until finally he found one that appeared to fit—nervousness. Frowning deeper, he wondered why he was feeling something so foreign and strange. It wasn't like he had anything to be nervous about. Sure, he would be attending public school for the first time tomorrow, but he hardly thought that was any reason to be nervous. Or was it? He didn't know. Shrugging, he tossed aside the emotions book and flipped through one of his manuals on socialization. He would be meeting new people, after all, and he wanted to give a good impression. After reading extensively through a few paragraphs, he lifted his eyes to rest on his reflection.

"Hello," he spoke softly and flashed himself a fake, practiced smile. "My name is Sai. It is nice to meet you." The teen extended his hand toward his pale reflection and performed the action of shaking one's hand.

Sai glanced back at his book to make sure he'd done it correctly and nodded to himself in approval when he saw that he had. He returned his gaze to the mirror and continued to make practiced small talk with himself until finally, somewhere around one or two in the morning, he succumbed to slumber. In his dreams, he mingled with the kinds of people he expected to meet tomorrow and secured friendships he'd never had.