Lost Innocence

The Prompt

Write a fictional story from the perspective of a misplaced item.

In this challenge, you are tasked with crafting a compelling and imaginative fictional story from the unique perspective of a misplaced item. The type of item and the identity of the owner is up to you.

Consider the journey and experiences of the misplaced item. How did it end up in its current location? What events led to its abandonment, and what emotions or thoughts might it harbor? Explore the world from the item's limited perspective, delving into the sights, sounds, and interactions it encounters along its unexpected path.

*

Like winter rain that never seems to leave the wall. Frozen, unable to find my way back, obstructed and immobilized.

Destined to thaw alone, dripping into the pools of regret. Sinking into the wells of abandon, numb and shivering. Clinging to the ice-covered rocks in love's forsaken, shallow pools.

Once warmed by the joy of unknowing and expectation, fanning the fires of passion. The arms of my soul reached beyond anticipation into the bed of promise.

Wholey given as a gift of the heart, the souls one and only surrender. Igniting the flaming fire that burned deeper than desire. The prized possession of the young and credulous.

Succumbing to the will of her heart, she did forfeit me, her innocence, to the oneness of their being. And it came easy, as natural as a newborn's breath.

A paroxysm of excitement filled every inch of her subconscious. Wildly, she proffered me, offering my possession as a romantic gesture to the wiles of his imagination.

And take me, he did.

I was not alone in his collection of innocence. He was a procurer of sorts, stealing the purity of the unsuspecting. And we, just another catspaw, caught, in an endless line of victims. Never to be whole again.

She was broken, and I, lost, tangled in his web of depravity. Never to feel the warmth of true love. Though, for years, she tried to revive the memory, to relive the moment. But I had been lost.

Soon, she abandoned the idea, leaving me, algid, preserved in the impermeable grip of winter's tainted prison. Alone and wanting.

Love's contaminated and unattainable return to the beautiful aura of my former innocence. Cold and crusted, cemented to the bottom of the frozen lakes of the forgotten.

Abandoned into lonely exile, longing for the warm pools of what once was.

She has since moved on. Settled into the day to day, a little wiser, a little hesitant, no longer clinging to the hope of what ifs.

She is learning to let go of the bitterness, releasing her guilt and expectation. Finding happiness in the little things, with feigned contentment and complacency, while I linger alone, broken and spent in the shadows of what could have been.

"No second chance for the innocence lost

moments tick on, while a heart pays the cost

Hold on the playfulness as long as you can

once spent, it is gone, like a flash in the pan