A Feeling of White

Warnings: animal death

When I was born, it was a feeling of white. A feeling of peace and love and warmth. I don’t remember where I was and who I was with but I instantly knew who my mother was. It was someone who clearly didn’t look like me or my siblings – they were furless and even through my half-lidded eyes, I knew they had a soft and loving spirit.

As time went by, I don’t know how long, I started to open my eyes better. My siblings and I were white with patches of orange on our fur while our mother wore white but still had no fur. However, she took good care of us. She always smiled and talked to us as she gave us our milk, and eventually food. She petted us and kept us warm. She took care of us when one of us got sick. It was a feeling of white. A feeling of peace and love and warmth.

Eventually, my siblings and I started to wander away from our white box into other white boxes. Sometimes we see other creatures with fur like us, who walked on fours like us but made different noises than us. They never beget us harm and they always welcomed us until suddenly they were gone. I never thought much of it and neither did my siblings.

One day, though, my brother got us in trouble. I don’t know what exactly he did but our mother took our white box and tried to run out. There were loud noises around but we stayed in the box. Mother knew best, of course, and we trusted her. However, I never saw that brother again.

When she dropped us off, it was dark and rainy. We were scared because she looked so scared and worried. Mom, what’s going on? Mom, where are you going? Mom, why are you leaving us? Mom? Mom?

She didn’t hear us but we didn’t leave the box for a while until she came back with food and water. Oh, Mom, I’m so glad you’re back! She said some things and my siblings were happy to have her there but I couldn’t help but get a feeling – a feeling of grey. Not bad, but not good either. I didn’t understand why she moved us here – it was dark and there are strange words on the grey walls. On top of it, there were noises that came and left. They made sudden strange noises that kept us up at night. By nighttime, the lights came on which only illuminated our box which now I call my bed. If we moved passed the hard floor, the floor dipped and it felt grainy beneath our feets.

For the first few months, then years, my siblings left and go. They sometimes would go to sleep and never wake up again or they just disappear. Mom tried her best to come back to see us, to feed us, to be with us, but she noticed how little our numbers were. But eventually, she stopped visiting us so frequently. She would only pick up the siblings who slept forever. Soon, I had a feeling of black – despair, sadness, madness. I would soon have to fend for not just me, but my remaining siblings.

They were scared or they would be stupid. They would try to climb the grey walls with words in order to forever disappear with a scream. They were so scared to leave that they wouldn’t leave our bed to eat. But when Mom’s visits stopped happening, that’s when I had to the painful task of dragging them out of my bed. Guilt panged my heart as I dragged their bodies across the sand and leave them by the cold water. Birds try to come in and disturb them but I can’t let that happen. That’s when I fight them and eventually, they understand what it means for me to drag my sleeping siblings there.

I was the one who discovered the cold water coming in and out while on my hunts. Sometimes, its a lot of water and I have to hide but when it’s warm like this, I like to lie there and listen to it come in and out. I don’t feel black anymore then. No, no I don’t. I feel grey again. With the sun on my warm back, the birds doing what they do and with the cool spray of the water, this is my idyllic life. It’s lonely, but it’s all I have. Mom is gone.

And eventually, all my siblings are gone. I am all I have left.

I look up at the black sky to find nothing staring back at me.

Things were a bit easier when it’s just me. At least I didn’t have to split the food. At least I didn’t have to drag anymore sleeping siblings to the water. I didn’t black anymore. In my heart of hearts, I knew that I may never see Mom anymore, or any of my siblings, but at least I have life. I’m alive and I could feel the sun and the spray of the water on my body and know that I feel. I’m here and alone.

And then, one day, I see something that looked like a smaller version of Mom. I don’t know how many years since I last saw something like that. I’ve been trying to avoid them since my last remaining sister was awake – she had tried to sneak food behind my back when I told her not to but she did it anyway. She got caught. I never saw her again. I couldn’t trust them again. Mom was gone and so were my siblings and yet I felt grey, not bad, but not good.

The smaller version of Mom came to me and she was very gentle. She smelled like Mom, somehow, and something beckoned me to go with her. And I did but I did so without her knowing. The young version of Mom eventually caught up with her and it was instant – she recognized me and I recognized her. Mom had come back!

However, was this the last time I was going to see her? Would she leave me again? I got scared and ran away but Mom followed me back to my box.

She noticed I was the only one left and beckoned me. I couldn’t trust her, not after what happened to my sibling. And yet, I still had a feeling of grey. She whispered sweet nothings and promised not to leave me again.

Very slowly, I went up to her and she picked me up. She put me in a strange place and eventually, to another place that had white walls instead of grey. I don’t know why it all happened so fast but I trusted Mom. Something told me to trust her and I did.

And now, I’m in a place where there are other ones that look like her. A bigger version of Mom, a little version of Mom, and even a smaller version of Mom. And yet, I ended up with a feeling of white instead.

The End

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