daddy kink | joshler + bryler

49

"this was your old room. do- do you remember it?" the blonde woman said.

the man was holding my suitcase behind her.

"not really." i admitted.

the walls were blue and the carpet was a darker shade of said color. it was nothing like my room at daddy's.

my room was white. white, white white. not blue.

white meant innocence, and that's what i am. i miss daddy.

daddy.

daddy.

daddy.

blue. i can't be blue; daddy will be upset.

"tyler?" the man said softly.

"s-sorry. i-i don't remember much. i can't- i don't know. i just- i'm sorry."

"that's okay, ty," ty. "we can- we can help you remember. we can do whatever you need to help you feel better."

"o-okay."

my bedsheets were black and grey. simple. soft.

i walked into the once familiar room and looked around a bit. i had to be good if my parents were ever going to love me again.

there was a desk near the foot of the bed with a mirror. there were photos taped to it.

photos of me. photos of others.

"is that really me?" i asked, picking up one of the pictures.

"yes," the woman answered. "you look so different now." she choked out, wiping away her tears.

"mama, i don't. i'm still- i'm me."

it was an instinct to call her mama. my mouth decided to call her that, but i hardly remembered her.

that made her cry a bit more.

i hate seeing mama crying!

i need her and mommy to be strong!

i sniffled and looked in the mirror then looked at the picture.

i was different.

"i don't know what to say to you without bring up memories of wherever you are." the man started. "i'm so sorry. were you eating? taken care of? i need to know that you were safe somehow."

"daddy likes us this way."

no one's safe.