I managed to find this book and quill set tucked away underneath some dirt in my room. It needed some cleaning, but it’s useable. I’m writing this in hopes that someone will find this, that someone will hear my story, that someone will know, that I was here. I was alive.
Page 1 of 11
I’ve been inside this “egg adoption center” for what I can only describe as a long time. I say “a long time” because I’ve long since lost track of the days, they’ve lost any sort of meaning.
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I was put in here since, at least from what I was told, that my mom, a great dragon, flew away. I don’t have any memories before that point.
Ever since then, I’ve been waiting in here, in this room, waiting to be adopted.
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I was told that a “person” would adopt me. Am I not a person? What does a person look like?
This small room is the only home I’ve ever known. I was told that if I ever left on my own, I would never be adopted. So I stayed here.
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There’s nothing in here. A singular light, which never shuts off, some fences, the walls, the ground, and me. I survived off of whatever bugs managed to scurry in, and the slow dripping of water from above. I hated it, but I could survive off of it. I wanted to be adopted. I wanted to live.
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I’ve always dreamed of being adopted. Seeing the outside, having a nicer home, not worrying about thirst or hunger, being able to be somebody, meaning something to somebody. It sounds nice. I dream about it in my sleep and daydream about it when I’m awake.
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Maybe someone will adopt me. I heard a bunch of commotion, seemingly from below me, but then, it disappeared. As if a fire was lit, and then extinguished. I heard something again, then nothing. It’s been a long time since then. Will anyone else ever come?
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It’s been so long. I’ve tried to keep hope, that’s all I’ve had, hope, but it’s running out. I don’t have much left. This is where I’ve stayed, this is where I survived, but I’ve wanted to get a chance to live. I don’t know if I’ll have that chance.
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I hope that this isn’t where I die. I want to survive. I want to live. I don’t want to die here. I want to live.
If I’m gone by the time that you read this, please know: Please don’t be sad. It’s not your fault. Maybe you just couldn’t see me. Maybe it’s my fault.
Page 9 of 11
I would’ve loved to meet you. I would’ve loved to live alongside you. I would’ve loved to mean something to you. Perhaps I won’t get that in this life, but maybe I’ll see you in another?
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Please know I was here. I was alive. I was somebody. I had hopes, I had ambitions, I had love that I was ready to give.
I’ve accepted my fate. But I’m scared of being forgotten. This book gives me a chance to be remembered. Please don’t forget me.
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