sucre'd fiend’s Comments (group member since Sep 15, 2015)

▬▬▬ natyka mallory bonezy ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
· · × the wolf with no ʜᴏᴡʟ ; the ghost with no ʀᴀɢᴇ ; the boy with no ʟɪɢʜᴛ
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ nineteen × male × wolf × bisexual ▬▬▬

ᴘᴏʀᴛʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ʙʏ lucky blue smith
ʙʟᴏɴᴅᴇ ♢ ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴇʏᴇs ♢ ғɪᴠᴇ ' ɴɪɴᴇ " ♢ ᴍᴜᴛᴇ
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a n d t h e y c r i e d ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇᴀʀs :
· · × ] ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ about memory loss is that you lose the good and bad. You lose it all in the blink of an eye, and sometimes you can get it back, but most times you don't. If you were to ask Nat about this, he'd tell you just the same thing. Most people tend to say they don't miss the memories they've lost, but the emotions within them. Nat misses the identity they gave him. They meant he'd matter to someone at some point, but not anymore. Because he's lost it all. He's a slate wiped clean, save his name, of course. He remembers finding his wallet on the bedside table in the hospital when he woke up. He remembers the doctors trying to talk to him, but doesn't remember the words. Natyka Bonezy. Who the fuck was that? Who named their child that? He remembers trying to ask just that, but hearing nothing as he moved his lips. And he remembers the silent fits, and the panic, and the pain. It feels like a distant memory, is a distant memory, but it feels like it could have happened yesterday.

It took him the better part of four months to get over the shock. Apparently, he'd been a suicide attempt gone wrong. Meaning, he'd survived, but not without having fucked himself up royally. Broken limbs and crushed lungs; they wondered how he'd survived that dive. He wondered how he survived. It didn't, however, take him long to find out. It was the wolf in him. That extra boost in stamina and determination, the base instinct of survival; it didn't want to die as much as he did, so it lived. And dragged him back with it. This, this was something he didn't share with the doctors. The same doctors that he'd asked to report him dead. There was no point, in his mind, to letting his family know that he'd be suffering, and would suffer some more.

Once released from the hospital, his ID told him it was his birthday. That was finally eighteen, and free. So he left town, and never looked back.
; a n d t h e y f o u g h t ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀs