Time is Precious
Sable finds himself having to start over as soon as the clock struck twelve. Why that was he didn’t know, and he probably never would. Luckily a new face seems to know how to help.
One day. That was all he had left. One day.
“I don’t know if I can do this again.” He sighed running his hands through his bicolored hair. He hated this, hated that for some reason he was cursed to go though this over, and over, and over again. What had Sable ever done to deserve this? Loosing everything year after year and restarting all over again from scratch.
He always remembered the terror and confusion; suddenly opening his eyes and not knowing who or where he was. It was why his journals were so important to him. He wrote everything down, no matter how insignificant it seemed. It always took him a significant amount of time to read through them and repiece together his life, at least from what he had written down.
Sable remembered nothing past age seventeen, and he didn’t know why. Did he always have this “condition?”, and if so why didn’t he write anything down? Truthfully Sable wished to meet his parents, or anyone that knew him before.
“I have to write everything down, everything I can think of...” Sable breathed writing furiously in his journal again. He knew he didn’t have a lot of time, he could already feel things getting fuzzy, and it wasn’t even the afternoon yet.
This continued through out the day until he paused. It was almost 12 am, and suddenly he couldn’t remember what he was doing.
“Ow...” Sable dropped his pen and clutched his head whimpering, his eyes closed tightly. As the clock struck 12, his eyes snapped open and bled a white and black ink like substance. The same ink like liquid dropped from the corners of his mouth. His ring materialized and as the counter hit zero his limbs twitched, his fur lost the swirled pattern, resetting back to plane black and white, and he blinked. His eyes back to normal.
“What?” He lowered his arms from his head and looked around the room slowly. Confusion and fear over whelmed him and he stood up, his ears lowering. Where was he?
“Sable?”
His ears perked up at the familiar name. Wait, that was his name, wasn’t it? He turned around and saw a woman standing in the doorway. Her eyes were solid yellow and she had large antlers with small flames on them.
“I-I don’t...” Sable replied nervously. His twin tails lashed behind him in his anxiety. “That’s...my name, right?”
“Yes,” Enola replied. Her smile was kind, and Sable felt safe near her. “Follow me, I have a scrapbook for you that will help!” She held a hand out to Sable, and Sable tentatively took it.