I clutched the mutilated stuffed bear in despair, and stared blankly at the man called father, step by step, walking into the warm room, watching him being swallowed up by tongues of fire. Then, I fainted.
When I woke up the next day, Mo was already beside me. I know that I have never seen him, but his feeling is so familiar, and even his breathing is exactly the same as mine, if not, if light, if slow.
However, my mother can never see Mo, and only I can enjoy his unique tenderness.
From then on, Mo and I depended on each other.
Until...
That day, the sun rose from the sea level. There is no trace of Mo around me anymore.
Conception: