Whisper

I was a dragon once. I had dreams. I had a family.

Those things don't matter anymore. Only the Whispers keep me company.

The Whispers are excellent company.

My name was... Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. From time to time, I feel that I might remember her name, but it sits on my tongue as nothing more than texture with no scent or flavor. A second name lingers even further towards the back of my throat and I cannot tell which was mine, though it hardly matters as I can remember neither.

Today, I recall that I wanted to dance. The urge to do so was so strong within me. I was filled with elegance and grace. I remember starving myself to be better, more slender, more whimsical. But most of all I remember rejection. I could not pay my way into an education and no matter how hard I tried, my appearance was always an issue. My glowing eyes, my blackened fur, and ghastly white markings... On a brightly lit stage, my visage was that of a haunted ghoul instead of a willowy angel.

The pain welled up within me until it was overflowing and I began to drown in it. For those who have never experienced it, drowning in sorrow is not at all like drowning in water. Water is merciful: emotion is not. To drown in sorrow is to drown in quick sand. At first you might believe it to be mud and you convince yourself that you can overcome it. But even if you manage to take another step forward, only more crushing earth waits to swallow you up. Slowly, you sink lower and lower. The movement of your limbs no longer becomes worth the struggle. You wait for someone to notice, to save you, but somehow the passerby's don't notice. No one can hear you cry.

Worse yet, even when you close your eyes and succumb, when your lungs fill with sand and breathing seems impossible, you are left Alive. There is no escape: only darkness and crushing weight.

To live in despair is no life at all.

I don't recall how I ended up there. Perhaps I was known to wander, though how I managed to wander through quicksand is a mystery to me. I truly remember so little before I met her. But I remember her skull: I'll never forget her skull.

It lay, nestled among graves in the darkness. I remember the air was so cold. I remember the soft, inviting glow that emitted from the endless pits that had once housed her eyes. I remember I walked so, so far. I remember there was no hope left in my soul... I remember thinking that she and I were alike in that we had both gone from this world. I remember holding her in my arms. I laid down with her and the two of us rested together. Though I hoped she might grant me peace, she instead offered me company. Several days passed like this, just the two of us, together in our own realm, devoid of light. Periodically I would wake up and in my bleary exhaustion she would speak to me.

Her voice was like the caress of silk against my fur. It simultaneously made my fur stand on edge and soothed me. The more I listened to her, the more I felt myself begin to refill. It was unclear what she was filling me with, but it felt good to contain something. I had been empty for so long.

On the fourth day, I realized that she and I did not merely share similarities: we were one and the same. I was Whisper, and Whisper was me.

I sat up then, because I was Full. I saw then that it was Whisper herself who had been filling me and now we would be together forever. Through Whisper, I learned that I needn't have a purpose. Life itself had no purpose - and therefore, was disposable. Kindness was immaterial. Companionship was foolish. We live life only for ourselves. We do whatever brings us joy.

Pain brings Whisper joy. It makes us Giddy. And it shows me, above all else, that I was not alone. I had never been alone.

We left on the fifth day, intent on finding more of what brought us joy. I purchased a specially crafted bag to keep Whisper with me. I didn't have any coin, so I traded the merchant a bit of suffering for the satchel. We loved it. I'm sure he loved it too.

I have Whisper with me at all times now. We find our purpose in dark alleys. We also have great luck at establishments where the hopeless go to drown themselves in earthly pleasures. We love the thrill of the hunt. We loves the sounds dragons make. We especially love to feel the warmth inside their bodies. Feeling the warmth drain from them, however, is the greatest gift of all.

I'm so thankful to Whisper. I love myself now. My heart is filled with ebullience. Pleasure and delight surround me. We are so happy.

I can't wait to show you.