You...could just barely make out some sparse details in your mind. As the memories and everything came back to you, you could feel yourself growing a bit more dull. There seemed to be a mental fog interrupting your train of thought every now and again, blanking out as your attention was drawn to other things. The grime beneath your toenails, the flickering of the shadows in the building above that shined down on the cold, damp narrow alleyway, even the stray orange strands of hair that went down the sides of your head. Keeping a coherent thought was as difficult as you just stood there in the alleyway, remembering...
It was the Queen's Era and...
Not a lot was going on in your head. The idea of focusing intently was pretty hard. You furrowed your brows and tried to concentrate...
It was that second day in a week? When the bakery smelled so good from putting fresh pies in the windowsil. You remembered trying to taste it while it cooked one day and almost lost a finger at the baker slamming his knife down at the wood. He called you something during it, but you couldn't remember. A threef?
But your name was Edward. So he wasn't talking about you then, or so you thought. You were one of those kids who didn't have a home, so you couldn't be too sure. It was what everyone else called you. Your were...gow old again? You counted it out on your fingers in front of you, now noticing they seemed a bit larger than they had previously, clashing with your current build. Thirteen...fourteen...fiveteen? Fiveteen, that was your age.
You blinked, cursing to yourself at what was happening. This boy wasn't the brightest and you were getting a close look at what that would be like. The reflection showed your new face, mouth open and tongue limp out of the right side of your mouth. Just staring down as a brief chill came down inside of your worn linen. A growl came from your stomach, causing you to wince.
Flies buzzed about to the left of you, their presence only being detected when you had felt one land directly on the tip of your upturned nose. The sheer chill made you shiver, your lanky body providing no real resistance against the cold. One of the buildings here looked to be a bar by the sounds of people behind the nearest door. You could hear people inside, laughing and cheering. They sounded warm. You went to reach to enter what seemed to be the kitchen but your hands refused to listen despite your protests. A memory popped up, a disheveled looking hole in a ruined and abandoned house, where a few kids were staring at you, some seeming less thrilled at this boy in rags.
It was winter, that pretty cold time when everyone was dress up a lot. You didn't have much to really keep warm with without going back to that place you remembered. Where the other urchins were. You couldn't remember what that word was, but you felt you were it. Everyone seemed to call you that. There was warmth and other kids and beds. But why were you standing out here?
The kitchen door suddenly opened, your eyes slowly looking up at a woman above your height. Her face looked like she was hot and the plate of food in her arms made your open mouth water. You could remember her name: Miss Jeanne. She wore a nice looking dress, covered by a winter coat that showed off her body. You stared at her, although she didn't seem to mind much. The food jogged your memory a little. You were waiting for her to come and take out the trash so you could search through it. Today was when her boss made pork.
Mm, salted pork...
"Edward, wot are ya doing out here?" She asked you, her expression changing to a worried one while looking behind her. Again, you blinked in this moment of lucidity. You had to explain yourself to her and tried to speak.
What came out was definitely anything but civil. Your mind could clearly think of what you wanted to say, but you just gurgle and slapped your tongue about, lapping at the air like some deranged animal.
"You know Mr. Desmond's gunna skin ya alive if he catches you out here again." Miss Jeanne said as you couldn't take your eyes of her food. The smell was making you drool now, dribbling down your chin as you tried to take the plate from her.
"EDWARD!"
It happened in slow motion, your hands taking the plate as Miss Jeanne brought it up. Your strength on the plate had caused the food to be thrown into the alleyway. She looked at you, angry, while you understood just what that look was for. "You bloody animal! Ugh, that wasn't for you! Go on, get before we're caught!" You still lingered as your stomach growled again. Instinctively, a hand raid to your open mouth.
"You have your food in the muck, Edward. That's your meal for today. Don't knock on this door again until tomorrow."
It was slammed shut in front of you, the warm air disappearing while you stood in front of it. Miss Jeanne was upset, but she was nice to you. One of the few people who was. Stepping towards the fallen dinner, steam billowing from it, you found it in a pile of mud and dirt with more of that "hopefully water" liquid sinking the chewy parts.
You weren't really going to do what the boy was going to, right?
Your oversized fingers dug into the mud to retrieve the food as the other hand didn't even pick the non edible bits apart from the food. You tasted the warm fillings of mash and pork that made your cheeks hit, mixed with the mucky taste of dirt. Regardless of the taste, you swallowed more and more. Dirty, scummy teeth bit into the pork while still drooling onto your shirt.
Si disgisting, but it tasted so good though...
In the middle of your meal, a sudden voice caused you to stop. "OI! EDWARD!" It sounded angry. You looked up to see who it belonged to and found yourself staring at...