note slid under his door, thanksgiving day

Date: 2016-11-24 05:44 am (UTC)
determinedest: (* (Golden flowers.))
[They found a stack of cards written a long time ago. A month ago, they think. There's a post-it note stuck to the top, cheerfully proclaiming - "for Thanksgiving!"

They suppose they should hand them out. There's a...a twinge of something when they look at the topmost one. The one that should go to the bed beside them. The empty bed. Their SOUL starts to...ache.

They swallow. They swallow very, very hard. Screw their eyes shut, blink rapidly. Something's off. Something's different.

They feel...empty. Not empty like they have before.

Worse empty.

They have to make it go away. So they make it go away the only way they can think of. They hand the notes out. Maybe if they do that, it'll go away, and they can feel nothing again. Go back to feeling nothing at all.

So a card gets crammed under a lot of doors that day. Notes to lots of people. People they must've considered family. They don't care, though. They can't care. They won't believe they've suddenly started to care again.

It doesn't matter.

It's just to get rid of the feeling.

On the outside:]




[And within:]

"Dear Sans,

I'm glad I got to know you. I'm sorry for making you promise, cause I know you hate promises. And I'm sorry for making you surprised that one time I said we were family. I think we are though right? We tell each other things no one else does. So I think you're my family too.

Thanks for everything. And thank you for giving me another chance.

- Frisk! "
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sans

August 2016

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