"...I miss you..."
I shiver.
That voice... It feels like it came from my mouth. My mouth I can't control. I don't get what is happening, but someone else is controlling my body, as if it were theirs.
The scene starts forming around us. It looks like a bedroom... a child's bedroom. It's not warm or cute, though. It looks like the basic furniture was put there, but there is no trace of anything family-related. I wish whoever talked would move, so I could see more, but her eyes are riveted on the floor. She... We are curled up in a bed. I can feel tears running down from our eyes. Why am I in a child's body? We're in the dark, there's only a faint light coming from the window. Is this night time then?
"...Mommy..."
I feel a pain striking my body. No, my heart.
Is she missing her mother? I wish I knew mine... Why am I in this child's body? I don't understand. She moves her head a little bit, and I can see more of the room. Her bed sheets are dark blue and smell fresh. Actually, everything in this room looks new, and almost... staged, like one of those furniture magazines. Decor that only belongs in some glossy paper. That room is too freaking big, as well. Even that huge teddy bear across the room is more lonely than cute.
I hear more crying, and realize it's us again. She's whimpering against her pillow, as if to muffle her crying. Suddenly, someone knocks at the door. She freezes and hides under the covers, making my vision go dark again.
I hear some steps. Someone walks into the room and sighs. We are silent, trying to hide. Is she scared of that person? I wish I could read her emotions too.
The room stays silent for a while, then more footsteps come.
"...Amy, what are you doing here?"
Amy? Is that my older sister, then? The one who spoke to her sounds like an older man. His voice is stern and cold. I'd be scared too if I was a child.
"Father. I thought I heard–"
"Leave her alone and get back to your room."
"...Yes, Father."
The footsteps quickly go, and someone closes the door shut. The whole room goes silent again. After a while, we dare look again, but as expected, the room is empty. She starts crying again, more silently.
Was that really Amy? Then, was that voice our father? I really can't remember him. Who is the child, then? ...Is it Clarissa?
The whole scene changes again.
This time, we are at a dinner table. There's a plate with some potatoes, broccoli, and a steak in front of us, untouched. The tableware is so fancy... yet, we are just looking down at our hands. They seem a bit bigger than before. Is this much later, then? I try to analyze everything I see. As she moves her head just a little bit, I can catch from the corner of her vision that there's someone else at the table.
There's a set for another person to our left. That's the only other one. How long is that table, anyway? I can't see the other side, but it can seat at least eight to ten people... even that person on our left is pretty far away. Who is it? I wish she'd raise her head so I could see! I hear them eating, but aside from that, there isn't even a bug flying. This room is only echoing that other person's eating. It feels so intimidating. She glances at her plate again. What, we don't like it? Not hungry, or a stomachache? I can't tell. I mean, that steak looks yummy...
"...Why won't she eat?"
That male voice again. Is that our father, then? Moon Goddess, I wish she'd just look up once so I can see what he looks like! I can just barely see his dark hands. He has long and thin fingers, with one big gold ring on.
"I think the young lady doesn't like broccoli, sir..."
Who is that lady talking? Moreover, why is she calling him sir, this is the twenty-first century! Is she an employee? The voice came from behind us, I can only tell she sounds a bit older than our father...
"She is too difficult. Her mother should have raised her to eat everything without complaining."
...What an ass.
She didn't complain, she's not even talking! I'm feeling angry just having to listen to this. If that's our father, I understand better why Amy always talked about him like he was some heartless douchebag. Oh, no, I can feel her lip twitching. Is she about to cry? Don't cry, don't cry...
"Tsk. When is school starting?"
"Tomorrow, sir."
"...You'd better not embarrass yourself there."
