He was empty.

Hollowed out and a blank slate. What was inside this boy?

To his family, he must have been nothing, too. He never even got the chance to be someone's perfect little angel, tossed aside before his wings could even grow.

I don't know if he ever truly accepted the rejection, or if it fully hit him. If I'm being honest, I hope it never does. If I'm missing a few pages, then he must think he's got nothing written.

But no. I know he might not ever accept it, but I'll be damned if I let him believe he's empty. I'll write the fucking story myself, if I have to. I'll help him see how full he already is, help him to slowly build himself up again. He's already an angel, he just can't see it yet.

And I know he still might not ever accept it, but I have to admit, it's amazing how he's managed to move on. How easily he forgives, even when I'm in one of my moods and being totally unreasonable, and his first priority is still help, and he might as well be the one filling me up.

Because, honestly, what else is expected when one is abandoned by his family?

-----

At least, that's how she looked at him.