A/N: Hi. I'm Tadsgirls daughter. I wrote one other story when I was younger via this account, but I'm a big girl now, so this should be a bit better. :3
Alright, the story. This is a Drabble about Victini. I was thinking about the meaning of life and stuff, and I stumbled upon the thought of being trapped in a room for eons. It's dramatic and sad and probably really crappy, but constructive criticism is obliged and flamers will be trolled. :D
Disclaimer: I do not own pokemon. I am not a genius. And I ate the last cookie. Sorry. D:
It's all I remember.
What am I?
Where did I come from?
Eternally waiting for something that will never come,
Freedom.
My heart aches.
My soul burns with passion.
I attack the tiny door in every way I can.
It never opens.
I sit and wait.
I look at the train.
I look at the carpet.
I look at the chairs.
I look at the bench.
I look at the dressers.
I look at the bed.
I look at the walls.
I look in the mirror.
I look at me.
I think of the world.
Is the ground soft like my carpet?
Do people play with trains?
Do people smile, like I do in my mirror?
Do they bounce on chairs like I do?
Is the sky gray like my ceiling?
Once and a while, water flows from my eyes.
It drips to the ground.
It only comes when I'm sad.
Hearing the drips brings me peace.
It makes me feels better.
It's all I remember.
What am I?
Where did I come from?
Eternally waiting for something that will never come,
Freedom.
