The brilliant blue displayed above the sector was beginning to grow dark. The sun still streaked its rays across the land, the clouds remained wisps as they pulled themselves through the sky, the people continued to traverse around as if there was nothing that had changed. That's because, in reality, nothing had changed.
It was getting very, very dark.
A cold chill began to creep up his spine. Panic had lit itself a fire within his stomach, burning up his insides with a desperate need to run. Anywhere. Instincts told his feet to scramble, screamed desperately for his body to move, the rising thumping of his heartbeat pounding in his rib cage until perhaps it would beat right out his chest.
Despite every bit of reason telling him to escape and never look back, there was only one thing a stupid cat like him was good for.
He remembered what it felt like to have your breath hitch. The searing pain of leather licking and biting at the skin of your back as you dangle just far enough from the ground that your toes yearn and stretch for the solid ground they'll never grab. He remembered the minutes that became hours, sessions lasting forever as the end never seemed to come despite how loudly he cried for it. He remembered what was said, what was cracked, what was broken, what was laughed about, what was falling, what was crashing, what was burning, what was breathless, what had become of him, what had commenced, what had terrified, compromised, destroyed, annihilated, taken away, blackened, ruined, scarred, broken, broken, broken--
What had kept Julian completely still was the sickening fear of being punished. His breath became shallow, a weak exhale pushing itself through parted lips as if mechanical. The sky was dark. His vision became clouded as his brother stood in front of him, reunited on the sidewalk in a sector of the city. Whatever panic had risen up had clashed together with the fear and broke into a meltdown. The disinherited good-for-nothing could barely even breathe.
