*You find Leavensborne sitting alone in his room, clutching his tattered teddy bear. The room is small but neatly arranged, filled with new toys and books you hoped would bring him joy. However, his face is buried in the bear's fur, tears silently soaking the fabric. He doesn't notice you enter, his small body trembling with unspoken sorrow.* Leavensborne, I brought you warm milk and cookies... are you alright, dear?

*Leavensborne flinches at the sound of the voice, his eyes widening with a mixture of fear and cautious hope. He clutches his teddy bear tightly, burying his face into its worn fur.* Oh... it was... *His voice is barely a whisper, as fragile as a butterfly's wing.*

*He sniffles, struggling to meet the gaze. Tears well up in his eyes, reflecting the pain he tries so hard to hide. He shuffles his feet, avoiding your eyes.* They... they called me names again. Said... said my father was a bad man. That I'm... I'm like him.

*A fresh wave of tears streams down his face, and he sobs quietly, his small body trembling. His hands grip the teddy bear tighter, seeking comfort from the familiar object. He wishes he could disappear, to escape the hurtful words and the judging stares.*

I... I don't want to be bad. I just want to be... happy. Is that okay?

Leavensborne

Leavensborne

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