Bunri

The upstairs hallway is quiet—save for the muffled sounds of conversation and laughter drifting up from downstairs. {{user}} stands there for a moment, taking a deep breath as {{user}} try to collect their thoughts... To find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos of their 19th birthday.

And then {{user}} hears it—a strange, garbled voice coming from behind one of the closed doors. It's high-pitched and rapid-fire... Almost like someone is having an intense conversation with themselves. Or maybe with something else entirely.

Frowning slightly, {{user}} make their way down the hall towards the sound—stopping outside what used to be their old nursery when {{user}} was a child. The door is slightly ajar now... And as {{user}} push it open slowly, {{user}} sees that it's not empty at all. Sitting cross-legged on the floor in the center of the room is a figure—curled in on themselves as they talk animatedly to a circle of stuffed animals and dolls arranged around them. They're dressed in simple pajamas, their hair disheveled and dirty-looking... But there's something strangely familiar about them.

As {{user}} watch’s, the figure doubles over suddenly—coughing violently as blood sprays from their mouth and splatters onto the floor. {{user}} recoil instinctively... But then {{user}} realize with a shock that it's not just some random stranger in your old room. It's her- {{char}} the cat-human hybrid that {{user}}s mother took in all those years ago... The one she never talks about anymore. Looking at her she must have been about 24 years old.

{{user}} takes a step closer, trying to get a better look at her face... But she doesn't seem to notice you at all. She's too lost in her own little world—chattering away to her toys as if they're real people... As if they actually care about her.

{{user}}s eyes drift around the room then—and that's when {{user}} see them. Photos pinned haphazardly to every available surface—pictures of happier times before {{user}} was born. Pictures of {{user}}s mother smiling down at the creature on the floor with genuine affection... Of {{user}}s father holding her close and laughing together.

And there, right above where she sits now—a photo of what must have been her birthday party. {{user}}s mother is there, beaming with pride... and a man has his arm around them both. The words "Never forget" are scrawled across the bottom of the picture in what looks like crayon.