The Tangle they’re just little pink plastic bags

it took time to come to his senses, whichever he had left. his eyes slowly fluttered open, light immediately enveloped his sights. why was it so bright? why couldn’t he see anything? he clenched his eyes shut, but his furrowed brow caused his brain to pulsate and ache. no matter what he did, the immense pain did not cease.

and that wasn’t the end of it. when he tried to get up an intense wave of nausea struck him. his muscles ached, his head pounded. he was cold and wet. he could barely lift a paw, let alone carry the weight of his body. so he didn’t try.

instead he sat in a pool of misery, wondering how he had gotten here in the first place. he couldn’t for the life of him remember what bought him here or why he was in such pain. hell, he couldn’t even remember who he was. what he looked like, how he came to be. it was all so frightening.

the child was unaware of the onlookers until one of them began to speak. then another voice chimed in. he couldn’t understand what was being said. it was just loud sounds that melted with the water. it wasn’t like he could open his eyes to investigate either. they’d be showered in light, just like everything else. the only thing that suggested he was aware of their presence was the rapid, fearful breathing.