Published via Ecency

Describe what you see

I see two boys, likely siblings, playing and hitting each other with pillows.
The older one probably holds back his strength so he doesn’t send the younger one flying, while the younger one looks like he’s giving it his all, trying to knock the older one right off the bed.

Describe what you feel

What do I feel when I look at this image? Honestly, not much. I’ve never lived through this kind of moment, never had an experience like it. Where others might feel nostalgia, I feel nothing at all.

Pillow Fight

A small boy sat in the corner of the room.

He was the youngest of the three. From where he sat, he watched the other two jumping on the bed, laughing and hitting each other with pillows.

They were playing.

But to him, it looked more like a contest—a game where the one who inflicted the most pain would be the winner.

Mom had told him to join in, just as she always did. And he knew better than to refuse, because if he did, she would never leave him alone. So he agreed, though most of the time he simply sat in the corner, untouched, uninjured, just as he preferred.

It was another slow day.

Yawning from boredom, he let his eyes wander around the room for the seventh time, hoping to discover something new—something that would save him from boredom.

And, as a matter of fact, he did.

A tiny spider crawled across the floor in the corner to his left.

The next two days weren’t as boring. At last, he had found a friend—one that seemed happy to be around him, too.

Whenever Mom told him to play with his siblings, he didn’t bother going to their room. Instead, he sat under the stairs, playing with his new companion.

Days passed. On the seventh day, though, Mom finally caught him playing alone.

Later that afternoon, he heard shouting. It came from his siblings’ room.

He wondered what they had done to make her so angry.

The spider crawled near him.

"Hey, little friend. Wanna play?"

Never mind. It was better that he had stayed away. Otherwise, he might have been yelled at too.

The next day, his siblings came looking for him while he was in his usual spot.

They told him to come play.

He refused. But they didn’t listen.

Instead, they killed his friend right in front of him. Stomped it again and again until nothing was left but a smear on the floor.

Then they dragged him to their room.

That day, they played with him. They said it was his fault they’d been yelled at. That if he wasn’t such a weirdo, none of it would have happened.