erik [d12 ; wip]

A silence fills the room, the haunting breaths of the two people having no effect on Eric. Though it seems robotic; no way of making the action stop unless the breathing had been forced or put to rest by whatever cause of death that they had been destined. Here and there, particles of dust danced around the room and the occasional cough came from one of the two. Eric had been called to that place for an interrogation of sorts where he would be asked a series of questions for the next few days. They said it was a survey; but people always seem to treat him differently. As if he were to be a mistake or someone that was not to be messed with for they are dangerous.

He is not dangerous, though the scars placed on his legs and arms seem to disagree with that thought for there is no hints of safety within his bones. Within the mind that he had been given all there is not just one but multiple, it seems like infinite forgotten memories that seem to be there. But they just aren’t there because of the amnesia Eric was given. People say that he was there recently, that he should be able to remember such tales that they were telling him. They say he is different from the others; that he’s weird. Insane, maybe, but those words would never be etched out from the lips of anyone that would be talking about him. The lady that sat in the chair across from him would cough slightly before opening her mouth, her red hair resting in front of her eyes.

“Eric, I am going to ask you a series of questions. Are you okay with that?” She would pause; looking for an answer from him. There was no reason trying to deny it because he would just be brought back another day to be asked the same question.

“Yes.” His words were a mumble, for he was scared to show his voice. His voice means nothing compared to the world he lives in, so why should he bother fighting back against the world he lived in with his almost useless voice that gave no hints or no use to the society that filled his life. The female would sigh, moving her hand to tuck the strands of hair that fell in front of her face behind her ear. He would flinch as she had moved her hand, he remembered the childhood he claimed that was filled with the abuse of his father towards his mother and his mother towards his father. They did it while he was even present, the glasses they held in hand almost pointed as if they were weapons towards each other. It was a tension that filled the room similar to the laughter of a small child, that was something that he never owned himself.

Looking down at the papers she had, words scribbled onto them in the form of lines. A new question, he had assumed was stored under the one that had been previously asked. “When do you first remember people treating you differently?” He pondered that for a moment, the way people looked at him or talked to him seemed to never have a starting point. His life seemed to be different from a lot of people, never really treated the same at any time in his life. Eric never felt different in his life from everyone else. He never remembered the day that it had all changed. Though, it seemed that he could only remember one part from his past that might have been a significance to the question.

“It was a warm day, it was. I remember being told to go outside, to go on a walk because my parents had to talk something out.” He would pause. It was difficult to remember the day that his mother had been abruptly taken out of his life. “I knew that this was not something that was good, for when I found myself returning home it’d be in the middle of screaming and crashing of glasses. I know that they never did just talk. I knew that they were fighting, they were never happy. They always fought.” Eric frowned slightly, for the memory of his mother was feint. The only pieces of her he had was her bracelet and her hair. “I knew that we weren’t safe.”