The Forgotten Sun
This story was never meant to be remembered. But some names can’t be erased.
Some bonds were written before time.
I was born into a family of wealth, privilege, power.
A family that claimed to love me. Claimed to protect me.
But the moment I spoke of the dreams,those strange, vivid dreams of a world bathed in golden light, where the sky stretched endlessly and the stars whispered things I couldn’t understand,they called me Sick. Delusional.
They said it was for my own good when they locked me away. When they silenced me. When they made me forget who I was.
But I remember.
Even as time slips through my fingers like sand, even as my memories fray and dissolve, I remember that place. A world that doesn’t exist here. A sky that feels too familiar. A warmth I’ve never known in this life.
And a presence,soft and distant,always just out of reach. A name I almost recall. A promise I never meant to break.
And when everything else fades,my past, my name, even the shape of my own reflection, what stays with me isn’t anger. It’s knowing. A quiet, relentless truth deep in my bones:
They were wrong.
About me. About what they feared. About what I saw.
And I don’t need vengeance. I don’t need their apologies.
I need answers.
Because in a world where power decides everything, I’ll rise, not to destroy, but to remember.
And maybe, if I keep going, I’ll find that place again.
Maybe I’ll find her again.
And maybe this time, she will remember me too.
