Grey's memories (2)

The rumors of him being unable to use mana and the shame he brought upon the family continued to swirl, gathering the momentum and spreading through the guild, until one day, one of the healers who came to cure him let the secret slip, and slowly the whole world knew the truth—that the successor of the Ravenwood family, the number one guild in the world, could not use mana. People started gossiping about him, and slowly he became known as the "Shame of the Ravenwood family."

***

"Did you heard what they're calling you?" a servant sneered.

"The Shame of the Ravenwood family."

Grey's heart sank, tears welling up in his eyes. he had no replied to give

"You're a disgrace to the Ravenwood family," the servant Said coldly.

***

The pain Grey felt was indescribable. Each day was a struggle against the suffocating loneliness and the crushing weight of his family's expectations. He felt like a ghost in his own home, invisible and unloved. His chest ached with every heartbeat, and a hollow emptiness gnawed at his soul. The constant whispers behind his back, the mocking glances, and the outright disdain from those who were supposed to serve him made every day a torment.

***

"Why can't you just try harder, Grey?" his sister said one day, exasperation clear in her voice.

"I'm trying," Grey whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm trying... I'm trying so hard... but nothing changes."

***

His sister, who once loved him deeply, suddenly changed. The eyes that used to look at him with affection were now cold and distant.

It started subtly. At first, she seemed a bit busier, always occupied with her training or spending time with their parents. She stopped joining in his favorite games, always having some excuse related to her training or duties. The warm hugs and shared laughter became rare, replaced by brief, formal exchanges. The warmth in her voice cooled, and her smiles became forced and infrequent. Slowly, she started ignoring him, just like everyone else did.

"Get lost, Grey. I don't want to play with you," his sister said coldly when he approached her one afternoon.

"But I just wanted to spend some time with you," Grey said, feeling a lump form in his throat. "I said, get lost!" she shouted, turning away.

***

As Grey's sister grew older, her incredible potential became more apparent. She excelled in everything she did, and their parents showered her with praise and attention. Grey, hoping to share in their happiness, tried to congratulate her one evening.

***

"Congratulations, sister. I'm so proud of you," Grey said softly, offering a tentative smile.

He looked down and murmured, "If only I were half as good as you."

"Oh don't you dare try to ruin this moment," their mother hissed, her grip tightening painfully on Grey's arm.

"Go to your room. You're not wanted here."

Grey stared at his mother in shock, bewildered by her sudden anger. He glanced at his sister, only to see her wearing a mocking expression.

His heart shattered as he watched his family laugh and celebrate without him. They didn't even bother to call him to the dinner table anymore. Alone in his room, he cried silently, feeling more isolated than ever.

***

"Why can't they just see me?" Grey whispered to himself, tears streaming down his face as he watched his parents and sister taking a stroll in garden from his room window. "Why don't they love me?"

 ***

As I watched Grey's life unfold—his suffering, his loneliness—my face remained expressionless.

A wave of sadness tried to wash over me, subtle and creeping, as if his pain was my own.

It felt real. Far too real.

It was simply heart wrenching.

But I knew this sensation all too well. After all, I had lived it in my past life—isolated, forgotten, starved for affection.

And yet, even as those emotions clawed at the edges of my mind, my expression didn't change. Not a flicker of sorrow. Not even pity.

It would be a lie to say I felt sad.

Because I didn't.

Watching these memories... it felt more like viewing a tragic play. with a poor writing A performance without meaning.

To me, it was just another form of amusement. Nothing more.

And in truth, these memories served me little. The endless weeping of a child offered no entertainment, To me it was just annoying noises.

I would've much preferred memories of mana, monsters, and the Mirror Realm. Anything but this endless Whining 

The only reason I watched at all was because I had no choice.

The memories came unbidden, uncontrolled.

A quiet sigh slipped from my lips as I sat in silence, watching the story of a broken boy continue to unfold.