Before, it was nothing.
No supreme being took it's shell in both hands and molded it into a new form. No supreme being enveloped it with unwavering light and warmth. No, that mighty being did not do so yet, that mighty being did not give her lungs to breathe, or skin to touch, or a skeleton to move, or-- or even a heart to feel. Not yet. When he spoke, it was not a voice the shell heard, only an invisible touch against whatever "skin" it had to spare.
"Are you sad?" It asked. But the shell had no lips for speaking, or a throat for that matter, and it realized that that alone made it sad. It had no nerves. It could only give a small thought in return, and it occurred to the shell that-- that it was sad. And it felt something touch it, pick it up from it's sea of desperation to live. And it heard voices, and felt warmth on new skin, and-- and everything was coming alive before it's-- what was it?-- before it's eyes. Eyes for seeing. Even a brain for comprehending what was going on around the shell. And the shell grew bigger, bigger, though not as big as the other shells around. But they were not shells, were they? They were occupied. Was she occupied too? She? A female, a female was what she was, she knew that. All of it resulting from her brain that was so generously donated by-- by who? How it agonized her that she had already forgotten who had given her such gifts, and green, gold-flecked eyes could barely make out what was before her.
A white landscape with nothing but her toes pressed to the ground. Vulnerability started kissing her with hasty lips, but she was too overwhelmed by all the new sights and feelings to notice. She peered down at her feet, noticing a simple, white robe hugging her body. Could that be the result of the warmth? She tugged it a bit, concerned as to why it hadn't any lips or heart or lungs, but was enamored by a new discovery. Hands. Small, nimble fingers that only reached up to touch soft auburn on her head that also was long enough to nip at her ankles. The girl took a step, her lungs filling and dispersing of air quite slowly and heavily, and she took another. It was easy. A word had crossed her mind, the invisible push-- walking. She was.. walking. And she walked further, further, around in circles, until her eyes had spotted a completely new discovery ahead of her.
A figure. Another form, similar to her own. And the form triggered a new emotion that the invisible voice told her: fear. The girl stood, dark brows raised in an anxious expression, and pink, soft lips barely parted apart. She took.. one step back. Two. Three. Four. Despite knowing all these words, grappling at all this knowledge-- she found none in her throat. And if she had, they died on her tongue. All she could do was back away, and breathe, and look, and think, until the force rattled her brain a bit. She gasped.
Stop. It had said. And she obeyed.
No supreme being took it's shell in both hands and molded it into a new form. No supreme being enveloped it with unwavering light and warmth. No, that mighty being did not do so yet, that mighty being did not give her lungs to breathe, or skin to touch, or a skeleton to move, or-- or even a heart to feel. Not yet. When he spoke, it was not a voice the shell heard, only an invisible touch against whatever "skin" it had to spare.
"Are you sad?" It asked. But the shell had no lips for speaking, or a throat for that matter, and it realized that that alone made it sad. It had no nerves. It could only give a small thought in return, and it occurred to the shell that-- that it was sad. And it felt something touch it, pick it up from it's sea of desperation to live. And it heard voices, and felt warmth on new skin, and-- and everything was coming alive before it's-- what was it?-- before it's eyes. Eyes for seeing. Even a brain for comprehending what was going on around the shell. And the shell grew bigger, bigger, though not as big as the other shells around. But they were not shells, were they? They were occupied. Was she occupied too? She? A female, a female was what she was, she knew that. All of it resulting from her brain that was so generously donated by-- by who? How it agonized her that she had already forgotten who had given her such gifts, and green, gold-flecked eyes could barely make out what was before her.
A white landscape with nothing but her toes pressed to the ground. Vulnerability started kissing her with hasty lips, but she was too overwhelmed by all the new sights and feelings to notice. She peered down at her feet, noticing a simple, white robe hugging her body. Could that be the result of the warmth? She tugged it a bit, concerned as to why it hadn't any lips or heart or lungs, but was enamored by a new discovery. Hands. Small, nimble fingers that only reached up to touch soft auburn on her head that also was long enough to nip at her ankles. The girl took a step, her lungs filling and dispersing of air quite slowly and heavily, and she took another. It was easy. A word had crossed her mind, the invisible push-- walking. She was.. walking. And she walked further, further, around in circles, until her eyes had spotted a completely new discovery ahead of her.
A figure. Another form, similar to her own. And the form triggered a new emotion that the invisible voice told her: fear. The girl stood, dark brows raised in an anxious expression, and pink, soft lips barely parted apart. She took.. one step back. Two. Three. Four. Despite knowing all these words, grappling at all this knowledge-- she found none in her throat. And if she had, they died on her tongue. All she could do was back away, and breathe, and look, and think, until the force rattled her brain a bit. She gasped.
Stop. It had said. And she obeyed.