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[center][h1][color=99CC00]Matthew Madigan[/color][/h1]
[img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/363556781537886208/636570892754878484/J9pTL8B.jpg[/img]
[I]Location: Oak Park
Skills: N/A[/I][/center]
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He sat there silently for a breath. What did he remember? Too much if you asked him. Countless things he wished to have blocked out, yet his mind could recount them as if it were merely memories of that afternoon. His hands tightened into little fists as he grabbed onto the jean fabric of his pants and looked down at the ground. She asked what they knew of fairytales and his mind could only spiral in wonders as how that had anything to do with their current subject. Finally there was mention of another person, a separate entity that had written the letters and knew about the situation than she, yet here she was instead of him, playing games with the hearts of two young boys who only wished to have answers and yet they received more questions. Think, think, think. What could this all have in common? What threads held all of them together aside from the orphanage? There was a sharp sigh before a quivering voice, one who didn't wish to recount a tale they hoped lost.

[color=99CC00]"What do I remember? I recall all the years of torment and torture that I had to endure. Years of knowing how I wasn't good enough not only for one of my parents but also for any of those who came to adopt a child out. It only grew grimmer and grimmer the longer the years went by, knowing no one wanted a damaged child, a kid too old to grow yet too young to fend for himself. I remember the countless years I spent searching for my parents in the eyes of every stranger I met and wondering when my life would begin. I remember...I remember..."[/color] The idea of fairytales popped back into his mind, a thought running through his head as he recalled a dream hes had so many nights. [Color=99CC00]"A scattered dream that's like a far-off memory... a far-off memory that's like a scattered dream...an old room, octagonal, covered in doors of various sizes, all locked except for one, I remember mushrooms and rocking horses, all so very out of reach."[/color] At this moment Maddy was staring off, straight into the ground but almost as of he wasnt there, fully envisioning the nightmare he had had so often growing up. [Color=99CC00]"Who are you? Who wrote these letters?"[/color]