Singed Remnants in Secret Agent Someone | World Anvil

 

...Singed Remnants of a Troubled Beginning...



 
Hear Someone tell you the story himself
Someone voiced by Jon McNally, videos by Ossandra White
 
  (Tweet One)
We lads were allowed to stay awake and witness the birth of 2010. Trivial celebrations? Unimportant. I stole away to the solace of my room. Midnight chimed and I resolved to renew my mind. Never again would I foster such despicable weakness as... attachment.


  (Tweet Two)
I awakened with the sun and the absence of Lewis-- Lewis? Who, now? I set my half of our drawing ablaze, laughing and watching it burn until the caregivers rushed in screaming like madwomen. No longer a fool, I accepted my fate of liminal infinities alone.


  (Tweet Three)
I stayed in for days. Custodians suggested I join the lads out, said solar rays cured depression. I wasn't depressed. I was becoming stronger than ever before. Soon, I'd be back to driving them crazy. Shoulda let me be and enjoyed their peace while they had it.


  (Tweet Four)
'Come,' they said, poised in the tranquil garden reciting lessons, 'No one wants an ignorant lad.' Little did they know, I was the smartest kid in London. I wouldn't get adopted anyway... No matter. What good was wit when they couldn't even recognize the truth?


  (Tweet Five)
Abednego 'ran away' (allegedly), mum and dad are dead, Beatrice and Ferdinand left me here, now Lewis has been whisked off to who knows where. At the daily dawn, I burn my past to ash... so, why are the memories still crawling around the curly bends of my mind?


  (Tweet Six)
Lewis once said, 'Don't burn all the memories. Leave the good ones, at least.' What good ones? Each is connected to the other. Burn it all and move on. Even now, partaking in the memory of his words is most unsavory. All the more proof of how wrong the lad was.


  (Tweet Seven)
Much excitement filled the house whenever interviews between children and potential parents were arranged. I would have stayed in my room but they'd never allow it. Instead, I simply did what I could to make sure none chose me... and what devious fun it was...


  (Tweet Eight)
They guessed at my age when I first arrived but I didn't confirm a thing. Didn't give a name either cause I technically didn't have one. My birthday wouldn't come along for another few years, so no need mention that. Preposterous? Perspicacious, if you ask me.


  (Tweet Nine)
The bell meant another 'important' announcement from Directress. All drifted mindlessly towards the origin of the sound as if under hypnosis, but I stayed right where I was. Nothing here interested me. Only 1,408 more days in this wretched place- if not less...


  (Tweet Ten)
Past bonds... Only Abednego and Lewis were true. The few others? Fake or conditional. Amorous connections? Nonexistent. UNIMPORTANT. The lads sat talking of girls seen in television, books, mags- Two were 'lucky' to have met a real girl. I never got the appeal.


  (Tweet Eleven)
All the lads were infatuated with trying to get adopted. Putting on a well-behaved show, hoping to be picked, to be 'loved'- Pish posh. I saw some try, fail, succeed, go, come back again and still keep trying. I'm the one who doesn't know the meaning of 'love'?


  (Tweet Twelve)
I used to share Bible stories with Lewis before bed. He was ever so curious about it all. When I told of Job, he saw a glimmer of hope for us both. I doubted. If something's restored twofold, tenfold will be taken again- from me anyway. Lewis DID get adopted...


(Tweet Thirteen)
I'd read the estate's entire library. Wasn't long before I'd finished the orphanage's few novels, mags, and comics. If I read anything once, I remember it all down to the page number. The lads knew my nose in a book was only code for 'leave me the heck alone'.


(Tweet Fourteen)
Once, they gave a 'special treat' the lads had never tried: watermelon. I'd eaten nearly every food there is back at the mansion. Mum and dad saw fit I rise cultured. I learned of languages and countries afar but wasn't let half a metre into my own front yard.


(Tweet Fifteen)
Spring had come and gone. Summer was fading. The crickets launching serenades into the night became my only company besides the scattered thoughts and memories that simply wouldn't go away no matter how much time passed-- no matter how many things I burned.


(Tweet Sixteen)
Lying awake at midnight, I recalled Lewis searching for our lives in Bible stories. I knew that mine could not be found in any book. I was the hero of a new, tragic tale that had never been and would never be again- one that surely would not have a happy end.


(Tweet Seventeen)
I leapt up as the small pond came to mind. Lewis and I would sit upon its bridge drifting paper boats down the stream. They had no worries, attachments, or fears. All my life I'd tried to say the same, but care crept back into my heart whenever I shoved it out.


(Tweet Eighteen)
That morning was cool and crisp. The grass was browning, the daisies were wilting, the lads were frolicking about in scarves and jumpers... Autumn leaves were giving up hope, falling lifelessly into the neglected pond- providing me an open option to join them.


(Tweet Nineteen)
The pond continued its call to me like a siren song carried along by the whistling wind. I progressed forward with prayers in my head and oblivious feet. I'd practiced swimming since before I could even crawl back at the estate, but none of that mattered now.


(Tweet Twenty)
They assumed I'd tripped and fallen. Breathing in, I gazed up at the arcaded bridge. Pain never did bother me. At the estate, fuss was made over my every injury. I'd only ever cried thrice-- not ONCE of physical ail. Now, I thought, my heart would hurt no more.


(Tweet Twenty-One)
I revived to a trembling Ms. Gertrude, a kneeling Ms. Abigail, and several hushed lads. The next day introduced a therapist. As not to be a liar, I told him nothing at all. Instead, I asked God why He hadn't taken me. I felt Him reply, 'It's not yet your time'.


(Tweet Twenty-Two)
They drained the pond after that, providing a baseline for my renewed outlook on life. I went back to being indifferent. No cares, attachments, or weaknesses. No rain to quench the memories I burned. Life would inevitably move on. I would enjoy it at all costs.


(Tweet Twenty-Three)
Yet, every night, my mind was still in collaboration with the devil; plotting my own demise, bringing up the past, making me weak... None knew the battle that raged within me, but none needed to. I had to be strong and face this alone. I would always be alone.


(Tweet Twenty-Four)
Time passed. I grew older. People came and went but I didn't give a care about anyone or anything. I behaved as I pleased no matter how crazy they thought me to be. Following the arrows that fell into place, I began sailing through life like a paper boat again.


(Tweet Twenty-Five)
All was at peace-- save for my occasional shenanigans. No more duets with Lewis, but I didn't need Lewis. I was used to working my magic alone before him anyway, so I finally went back to being the crazy, esoteric lad the caregivers had grown to know and scorn.


(Tweet Twenty-Six)
Years went by too swiftly. The dread of change returned. I'd wanted to escape the estate... When it came time, I was afraid. I'd dreamt of fleeing the orphanage... Now, where should I go? Could life lead to the mountains? Would I become a vagrant on the street?


(Tweet Twenty-Seven)
Surely, the day I set out on my own would either be the prelude to my new life or the beginning of the end. For, what is life? It is even a vapor that appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth away- a beautiful cherry blossom that lasts only for a moment.


(Tweet Twenty-Eight)
Through it all, there remained a beacon of hope. I blamed Lewis. Long ago, I'd stopped expecting better, but he never let anything break his spirit. I tried to forget the horror he'd faced- prayed by some miracle life was alright for him now. He was a good lad.


(Tweet Twenty-Nine)
Departure day arrived. They released me one spring morning assuming I'd come of age- none ever learnt my real birthdate. Essentially told to head for the hills with a case of few rations, clothes, and pound, I was chilled to the marrow despite the sun's warmth.


(Tweet Thirty)
The vast world knowledge I'd been issued buckled under the weight of firsthand experience. Countless people, voices, and goings-on about made it hard to breathe. In a dizzy haze, I shoved my case to an old man begging for pence and took off for Lambeth Bridge.


(Tweet Thirty-One)
Climbing the ledge, I found myself staring down into the Thames. I inhaled deeply, shut my eyes, then opened them to the sky. Scarce sunbeams challenged the overcast, filtering through like fleeting starlight. 'What's next?!' I shouted at the top of my voice.

Content Warning

Proceed with caution. This article contains sensitive topics
  • Anxiety
  • Depression
  • Dread
  • Implied Abuse
    • Suicide Attempts

    Here lies the collection of daily tweets for ShyRedFox's January 2022 vssCollab challenge...

     
    Someone has burned his past to ash... Perhaps you can piece together the singed remnants? This collection of ponderings comes straight from the depths of his own raddled mind.
      prompt words are bolded and underlined.   clicking a ~~~Number~~~ in the sidebar will take you to the corresponding quote right here on this page.   clicking (Tweet) above that quote will take you directly to the post on Twitter.   clicking here will take you to the beginning of the full Twitter thread.
    Want more? Find Someone Elsewoods complete origin story here:
    Troubled Beginnings
    Generic article | Apr 16, 2023

    Comments

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    Feb 7, 2022 07:50 by Desdemona Rose

    I really like how you laid this page out!

    Feb 7, 2022 09:53 by LexiCon (WordiGirl)

    Aww, thanks. :) I appreciate you taking the time to check it out, comment, and leave a like! <3 God bless!

    May 25, 2022 02:54

    I didn't notice this at ECC, because I thought it was technical or something, but reading it in the very first tweet, I find terribly sad that "Unimportant" is a recurrent word.   Tweet Three it's my favorite I think.   Tweet twelve makes me wonder if he's jealous, or if the mention of Lewis is more about him loosing than about the chance of actually have something restored.   "I was chilled to the marrow despite the sun's warmth." This is not the reaction of someone with no attachments. You can't lie to yourself, Someone, but not to the reader.   I love how he is has the knowledge, the skills, apparently everything to be ready for the challenge, and yet... he can't breath in the face of firsthand experience.   Well, we know a bit about "what's next".

    May 25, 2022 10:26 by LexiCon (WordiGirl)

    These are great observations! I'll tell you, he wasn't at all jealous about Lewis. He was said though. You can find out more about that soon. The full book should be released shortly.   You're correct about that word "Unimportant". It's something he uses to lie to himself.   I appreciate you reading and liking the page! <3 Love

    Aug 15, 2022 08:07

    Interesting presentation and engaging. Curiouser indeed. Agoraphobic Sherlock it seems.

    Aug 15, 2022 16:47 by LexiCon (WordiGirl)

    Intriguing comparison. Thanks for reading and I'm glad you enjoyed the article! <3

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