The lost who struggle
Purpled has been staring at a dirty and lightly torn page for what feels like hours. Tears fall down his face and the droplets hit the page as if he is in a rainstorm and his tears are forming puddles. He lifts his left hand and carefully swipes across his face as more tears gather around his eyes. He hated crying - it always made him feel younger than he was, it always reminded his brother that he wasn’t even a teenager. He began to scrawl angrily on the paper in front of him. His handwriting looked awful: it was a scribble, covered in raindrops and blurred lines, he didn’t care enough right this moment although later he would morn the loss of the written words expressing his feelings. He continued to write.
dear diary,
Sometimes I get the feeling that you understand me better than anyone, which is ironic because you are well- me, better than Punz at least. He promised me we would hang out today, I believed him - I’m not sure why I did considering he hasn’t once lived up to his own words. Ever since our parents died he stopped caring about me! And it’s not like I have anyone else to talk to.
He thought to himself of the millions of false promises that left Punz’ mouth. But the elder had never once followed through, Purpled could recall asking Punz for new school supplies this year - nothing fancy just necessary. Punz had promised to take him to buy some, yet here he was halfway through the school year with nothing but what he had managed to borrow or steal from his unsuspecting classmates, which didn’t amount to much other than a notepad and a few pencils. It certainly gave some of his bullies some more fuel to the flame.
He always uses the excuse of having work or being too busy, today he even told me his shift at the bar was extended. Which if my memory serves me right, he works at an office building. So unless they got a bar, which I know for a fact they didn’t, he is absolutely lying to me.
Purpled was sure he would have bought into that lie a week earlier, however, he had visited Punz in work a week earlier when the Wolf hybrid had forgotten his necklace at the house. Punz loved that necklace and purpled figured if he were to return the rusted gold chain to his brother he might spare some time for him after work, he was wrong of course, the shift ended up lasting late and Punz arrived home at 3 a.m waking Purpled up. He seemed out of it to Purpled and he was too tired to even say goodnight to Purpled. Purpled thinks he makes for an awful brother but he didn’t have much else to rely on. And after all, at one point he had loved his brother more than anything.
sometimes I wonder if it’s my fault, did I ruin our relationship?
I remember he used to take me to the park every day.
he laughed at my jokes and smiled at my accomplishments.
…..recently he hasn’t even looked at me.
The last few sentences were completely illegible, covered in inky blurs and smudged tear lines. He felt so lonely, sure, he had always been seen as strange. He often caught other staring or making fun of the pale stars that twinkled across his arms and face, shaded with a pale galaxy the more embarrassed he gets and the vibrant purple eyes that graced his face, one’s he wished he could tear out if only to seem more normal at times. But even then, his brother had reminded him how special he was, always coming up with interesting fantastical stories of a boy similar to him, with the same unique features who could have changed the world, he always had his brother by his side then, Purpled thinks he used to be lucky. That boy who could have changed the world feels so far away now, back then it felt like his future, his reality. A real concept - but now it seems like what it really was, a simple fantasy.
It wasn’t like Punz never came home, but when he did he acted wrong, he never had any energy and seemed constantly like he was recovering from something, but Purpled never once found he was sick the next morning. Purpled missed having more, he liked the food they used to buy when their parents did the shopping, and he liked the star themed pastry and toys that his father or his brother always brought home but he hadn’t even seen a proper cake since their parents died a few years ago. Punz had clearly given up on caring and spoiling Purpled when he was left alone with him. Purpled wouldn’t mind so much the loss of presents usually, but Punz was all he had. He couldn’t get along with anyone at school and everyone marked him as different or “scary”. And now he received nothing but a few wore down trinkets on his birthday from his brother.
Purpled was sick of thinking so he decided to lay down on his bed, it was late anyway and Punz had “work”. The house was quiet.
A shadow stared at the tearstained page, it smiled.