♟A Game of Perspective ♟

The last Memories of Milo Asher

Authors note: please be aware that all images used in this story rightfully belong to me, I have hand drawn each of them and decided to use them in this story, please do not use or steal any of my images for any purposes without approval by me. It is very unlikely I will let you take my art regardless, just please be respectful of my work~ also all characters in drawings rightfully belong to Adam, please do not forget this is a FANMADE version~ thank you 🖤

——————————————————————

Chapter one
"Alone"

         The surrounding darkness should have been a comfort to the mans troubled sleep but instead was a main cause of his paranoia. A fear of the darkness was a childish fear in his opinion, yet he couldn't shake the feeling of something encased in the shadows looming over him. Every wisp of cool air from his ceiling fan, a frantic whisper in his ear that forced a shudder to erupt down his spine. As the fear gripped him, so did the faint oncoming of a panic attack which was no stranger to the now shaking form of the man now sniffling back tears at how pathetic he felt. Milo choked back the overflowing emotions and slowly focused on the small, but soothing storm, the rain a steady pattern to adjust his breathing to which he hadn't even realized he had been holding.

          Exhaling a relieved shaky breath he shifts once again, as time slowly dwindles into impatience and frustration, Milo pushes himself into an upright position and opens his dry, bloodshot eyes as they dart around the room. Once an annoying habit, now common sense as he searched the room in a half frantic manner, but once again found himself alone. Milo's attention was finally brought to the increasingly  painful stinging in his eyes as they had dried and the lack of moisture left his tired orbs vulnerable to the cool air, instantly blinking and rubbing them he brought himself to stand shakily. Flinching as a loud reverberating "crack" followed by a flash of light startled his already paranoid conscious.

         Fixing his hair up into its usual ponytail he approaches his doorknob with hesitation, he needed water, throat dry he was desperate even if it risked waking his mother, who would almost definitely scream at him for waking her at this hour of the night. Milo makes his way to the kitchen and freezes in his tracks. Shifting his weight nervously he debated on what to do, a few feet away, there stood his mother, just standing by the kitchen window and staring out of it. Milo did his best to swallow the dryness in his throat, at least enough to talk as he licked his lips.

        Stepping a little closer he nervously rubs the back of his neck "m-mom?" he questions in a groggy tone. Silence, no response and not a single sound besides the storm. Unsure of what to do he slowly just opens the fridge, grunting a little in pain as the brightness temporarily took his vision. Finally building courage, Milo spins around to ask her what was wrong, only to find the spot completely empty.

------------------------------------------------------
♟End of Chapter Authors note:♟
Hello, just wanted to thank you for making it to the end! This has been chapter 1/?? Of Milos story. Any suggestions and comments are appreciated, and if you enjoyed this taste test of a story stick around because I'll be writing more about different characters. ~Thank you🖤