Theo
When Theo was 9, he wandered off from his mother at the supermarket. He had tried going back to the veggies aisle, where he’d first insisted he didn’t want broccoli but Froot Loops and went to get them himself, but he couldn’t find her. Suddenly, hee couldn’t even remember what color she was dressing. All Theo knew was how he wanted the ground to open and swallow him whole as that pitch black, cold feeling froze his insides. He couldn’t help but thinking back at that moment as Theo stood, alone and utterly lost, at that dance floor, waiting Dan to come back for the past half hour, holding the white cane so close to his chest he could barely feel the tip of his fingers. Except he wasn’t a nine year old kid anymore, but a twenty-fucking-eight year old adult, pathetically lost, and yet the feeling was the exact same one.
