Chapter 153

An old toy chest gifted to him by some distant cousin rested near his bed. His toys had a mind of their own. A baby doll whose hinged eyes were broken but he could see how it broke, a velveteen teddy bear-his favorite whom he shared everything with, a spinning top. The top spun whenever he wanted it to, without physical labor.

He drew the blankets to forehead, peeking out from underneath. This was the first time, according to his memory, they had one home. Two stories, his room upstairs with a glitter glass window. He knew the house was old, kitchen cabinets with crayon drawings on it, the wallpaper marked with a Sharpie announcing different heights. Guess they were also poor too, just like him, since the inches were drawn-near accurate. But he didn't fret. His world went beyond the riches anyway. There wasn't much to grasp within his peanut sized brain, but he knew he wasn't normal. Not even by changeling standards.

His mother had put him to sleep with her fascinating stories, his