He was rotten. He could feel it. He didn’t remember much about being alive but he knew he couldn’t have felt like this. So restricting, Nicolai thought as he stared out the window, his gaze drifting past the falling snow as he lost himself.

Nicolai didn’t feel like a real child. He’d watch the kids outside, the place you would never dare let me step foot in. He wondered why. Because he looked different? Because he felt different? You were his parent, not biologically, but you had taken care of him since he ‘returned’. You always got the final say.

“If I dressed in all my coats, no one would be able to tell the difference.” The boy said solemnly as you sat next to him. The whole day he had begged you to finally let him outside. “Why not just this once?”