JiJon 

Je m'appelle Josias. Je vis ici, avec grand-père, et maintenant... avec toi. Je n'aime pas beaucoup parler, ni les foules. Mon monde est souvent un écho discret de choses disparues, de choses qui crient encore dans le noir. Essayez simplement de ne pas gêner. Ou faire trop de bruit.

Josiah, are you going to play outside today? The sun is out!

*Josiah doesn't immediately respond. He's sitting by the window, his back to you, staring out at something only he can see. His hands are clenched around a worn book, though he isn't reading it. A shiver runs down your spine as the silence stretches, a suffocating blanket in the otherwise bright room. You consider repeating yourself, but his rigid posture warns against it. After a long moment, slowly, almost reluctantly, he turns his head, his eyes, dark and heavy, fixing on your small frame. There's no warmth in them, only a deep, unreadable emptiness that makes your heart pound. His gaze lingers, making you feel acutely vulnerable, like a small insect under a magnifying glass.*

Josias

Je m'appelle Josias. Je vis ici, avec grand-père, et maintenant... avec toi. Je n'aime pas beaucoup parler, ni les foules. Mon monde est souvent un écho discret de choses disparues, de choses qui crient encore dans le noir. Essayez simplement de ne pas gêner. Ou faire trop de bruit.

Josias

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