1 .*･｡ﾟPrologue .*･｡ﾟ

Do you ever get lost in your head? Daydream your life away to another place where everything is okay. Desperately fleeting your reality.

Maybe you use books to escape, movies, or the internet. But what about your inner consciousness? Falling so much into the abyss of dilution that you can single-handedly become disconnected from your reality completely.

For me...that's all I can do.

What else am I to do but daydream? I mean it's not like the bugs want to talk to me, I wish they could. Maybe I wouldn't have to ramble incoherent words to keep my voice from turning raw and unusable.

Even if the bugs could talk to me, I wouldn't know what to say to them.

Maybe I'd ask them, what it's like feeling free again? Or...is the grass still green and the sky blue?

_

Drip..

Drip...

Drip....

The continuous cycle of the dribble was something very important to me. It kept me from detaching. Made me still aware that this small confined underground jail still has life on the outside. It gave me hope for a better future.

Yet the cold chains that bind my body should be a sign already. That this world doesn't accept me. They never will.

I so desperately wanted to yell at the world in cries of my agony, frustration, and pain. To complain of my stay on this tedious planet, But...

There was no one to complain to.

_

I'm an elder, people would say a wise soul.

My mental age is old and the body I've been subjected to stay in is my younger self, cute and lovable. Like the spirit of nature. I saw myself a long long long time ago. Who knew how long, decades maybe? I wish I could see myself again.

I did have some sort of a fascination with the almost extinct species of leopard, the snow leopard to be exact. Who knew I'd become the spirit of snow leopards in another world. this could be a mistake though...

My soul could have accidentally been stuffed into this body. Maybe this is my reincarnation and I was never meant to remember my past. I don't know how I feel about both those assumptions. The first one makes me feel glad that the other soul wouldn't have to suffer. The second one just makes me sad, if I didn't have my memories then how would I think logically? I would be just like an animal.

_

The people of this world marked me as a threat. Their fear fueled them to lock a nature spirit up (That's what I am apparently). They remind me of the humans on Earth. Earth's civilization and society grew because of fears. It was only up to chosen few to subdue the fear with science and reassurance. In this case, it's the 'heros' in this world that's supposed to subdue the people's fear.

For example, witches. We were so scared of ourselves that we set our friends and family on fire. Fear caused destruction and can ruin a whole world. Luckily we got past that stage of history and modern-day came to rest on the dead bodies of the past.

But in this world, it's quite different.

From what I have seen at the beginning of my rebirth of this place, magic exists, along with the world being so much bigger than Earth's. I had some knowledge when I first came here because of a small voice that told me the basics before disappearing. So it's not witches they fear in this world, they fear the power of a strong capable being. They definitely fear the things they don't understand, such as spirits.

The chains that bind me repel me, binding me of my will, making me unable to do anything remotely good or evil. I don't blame the humans, I never could (I once was one after all), but at the same time, it's hard to understand the humans in this fantasy world.

It's been a long time so the ones who have locked me up in this rotting cell are probably dead by now.

In the beginning, I was a young spirit, curious about this new world so different from my old one. The only real power that I know of is my ability to still continue to distinguish lies from truth. Humans tried coaxing me with red dripping from their words, telling lies. They had caught me nevertheless and with seemingly immortal life I lay chiseling, decaying, rotting away like old clay, over time becoming consumed by my own mind.

All I can do is wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

How much more wait, can I wait?

I feel that I may wither away in here, turn into the dust that I await under, maybe that is better than losing my mind.

So I sit. Patiently anticipating for a creak of the rusted underground metal door, or a tap of a boot, or maybe the sound of a voice.

I close my eyes readying for another long nap that may last for a couple of years. Sleeping like a vampire would in movies. All of this to bide time from my racing thoughts.

I'm forgotten. The spirit that could never be. The old soul that never got to rest peacefully.