Gourdy! (Dandy's World.) -2

You already knew a lot about Gourdy. Not just because you talked to him every day, but because Toodles, your best friend, often told you things about him — how he smiled even when his eyes looked empty, how he sometimes stopped mid-conversation, as if remembering something... or someone.

But tonight, something felt different. The air around the map was heavier, quieter.

You followed a faint glow to a small Halloween-themed house.

Inside, the smell of fresh ichor filled the air.

Dark drops trailed across the floor, leading to a door left slightly open.

From the other side came a sound — shallow, trembling breaths.

You pushed the door open.

And there he was.

Gourdy.

Kneeling on the ground, surrounded by torn papers, broken crayons, and stuffed toys scattered across the mess. The walls were cracked. The floor was stained with ichor.

And all around him — drawings. Simple, childlike ones... of Gourdy and two tall figures.

His parents.

"They were here..." he whispered, clutching one of the drawings. His voice trembled. "I remember laughter... warmth... maybe a song. But then it all went dark."

He pressed the paper to his chest, shaking. "Why can’t I remember their faces?!" he cried. "WHY DOES IT HURT SO MUCH WHEN I TRY?!"

You stepped closer, but Gourdy’s voice broke again — "Did they leave me?" he asked, staring at the floor. "Or... are they gone?"

He hesitated, his next words barely audible. "What if... what if it’s my fault?"

The silence that followed felt endless. The candles flickered weakly, casting shadows over his trembling form.

Finally, he whispered, "I just want to remember their voices. Their arms around me... something real."

He picked up a broken crayon, dragging trembling lines across the floor — desperate, uneven strokes forming the faint outline of a family.

"What if they never existed?" he murmured. "What if I made it all up... because I was too lonely to face the truth?"