Memories of Us

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked. I smirked at the small person sitting in front of me. I sat across from him to seem less big. He gets nervous around adults. I choose my words carefully, but before I am able to say anything, there is a crash or thunder around us. He scoots under the bed for safety. My smirk becomes a small smile. I reach for a tiny hand. He practically broke off my fingers in fear of the noise. I was amazed how noise could scare someone under the bed.

“Don’t be afraid Little Prince,” I whisper. He doesn’t come from under the bed. He just squeezed my hand tighter. I sat by his side for the night and years to come. As all boys do, they grow up. Unfortunately, this meant he paid less attention to me, and more attention to everything else. He started paying attention to his appearance, talking to other people, and talking about girls and sometimes boys. He had no preference. This is not the Little Prince who has needed me for the last ten years.

When I first met him, he was only 5-years-old. He needed a friend. I would talk to him. Let him know he mattered, and someone loved him. I would stand behind his parents and make funny faces, just to see him smile. I'll tell you a little bit about his mother. She was a strange woman. She loved her son more than a grown woman should, and got extremely jealous when he would make friends. Also, she didn't like wet words. For example: moist, piss, slick, cum, and my favorite, period. I assumed she did not like these words because she cannot self lubricate, or she has a secret fetish for waterworks, and fears someday we will find out about it.

One day, he said, “Sebastian and I are going to the park. Be right back.” His mother stopped him before he could leave. I stood next to him. I had warned him before not to speak of me in front of his mother. He looked between the both of us in confusion. I stood silently, as his mother was growing more concerned.

“Honey… Who is Sebastian?” she asked.

I grabbed his hand. “None of your business,” I say for him. Immediately, he jumped away.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” he yelled. His mother watched as we argued in shock and horror. A few moments into our argument, she stopped him.

“Who are you talking to?” she asked.

He looked at her confused and upset. “Sebastian.” He waved a hand in my direction. She grabbed him and took him to the couch rambling about how she needed to call a doctor. “Sebastian, what is going on?” My Little Prince stared up with scared eyes. I kneeled in front of him. I place a hand on top of his.

“I told you not to say anything,” I say in my most gentle voice, masking my irritation. “Now I will have to go away.” Cue the water-works. I rolled my eyes while holding in a sigh. I try not to show my annoyance at his bursts of tears when he cries. Over the years it has gotten very hard to be nice. But then again, I was not programmed for kindness. No matter how much he needed it, he did not know how to receive or give kindness.

As promised, his mother made us separate. I watched with a smirk as she and his father dragged him to electroshock therapy, then to regular therapists. He had forgotten me. He also had forgotten everything else about himself. Name and all. Still, I followed him in hopes that something would trigger his brain. I never spoke. I just sat close by in case something happened. I would whisper goodnight to him. I would compliment him on days I could tell he was not feeling too well. We went to therapy. The doctor asked how he was feeling. He spoke cheerfully, "Well, I didn't kill myself today. I take that as a victory for the day." The doctor smiled with a nod.

"There's still time," replied the doctor.

I'm not sure how it happened. I just know it was a Tuesday and it was during dinner. He looked me in the eyes but did not say anything. I smirked. They tried to cure him of his illness, but the cure only lasted a week. The moment he looked at me, I knew I had won. He had gotten his memories back when he was watching television and he heard someone speaking to him. Usually I would be that person, but this time it was his father trying to get his attention. Immediately, he knew something was off. His father never spoke to him unless he was expressing his disappointment in his family. Him being the only child, he was always the reason for said disappointment. His father worked a lot. He was a CEO of some company somewhere that he inherited, and he has an obsession with unicorns. We found this out one day when we were playing hide and seek, and I went into his Father's Office. He followed me into the office and caught his father watching furry porn while jerking off into an unicorn onesie. That is not the only strange thing we have seen. There was once a furry orgy in the family room. There even was a Spiderman involved. His father's sexual exploits turned into a game of "how weird can Father get this week?" Most people would have been weirded out, but no, my Prince found it hilarious and fun. Every year he'd buy his father something with unicorns or My Little Pony on it. I thought it was very sweet.

“How did you know you were a man?” he asked me when he was 12.

“I saw my first pussy,” I replied with a smirk. He made a face. I laughed.

“How did you know you were ready for sex?” asked the 14-year-old.

“I saw my first pussy,” I replied with a smirk. He made a face. He looked thoughtful. He's growing up and I hate it.

I sat in the corner as he was in his bed making out with some girl. Not some girl, his “girlfriend.” I could have been less of a creep and turned away, but I thought “Why not have some fun?” I leant next to his ear while he had his tongue in her mouth. I took his hand and placed it under her shirt. “No one is home, might as well see how far you can go,” I whispered. I thought she would push him off, but instead she spread her legs, giving him access to under her skirt. I smirked. “I hope you still have that condom in your wallet.” He pulled away to glare at me. The “girlfriend” did not notice. She was too busy trying to take his pants off. I moved into a corner to watch this shit show unfold. I've seen him watch porn while taking notes. Let's see if he can put what he learned into practice. I watched him fumble around for a condom. I chuckled.

“We don't need one. Come back to bed,” said the “girlfriend.” He looked at me with wide fearful eyes. I growl.

“Throw her out,” I said with a growl. Before he could tell her to leave, his mother walked in without knocking. For once, I'm glad to see her. I'm pissed she just strolled in his room without permission, but I'm glad she is there to make this situation a lot more interesting. She yelled, cursed, and dragged the half naked girl down the stairs. The Prince, I guess I can't call him little anymore, sat on the bed with a strange look on his face. “I can't believe you,” she exclaimed upon her return to the bedroom.

“Nothing happened. I couldn't find any condoms,” he said. I fell over laughing. His mother’s face turned red with rage. She continued to yell about sins, whores, and aids. I couldn't stop laughing. He had put his pants back on and had laid back on the bed. He was texting and paying no mind to what the woman was saying. It only made her yell more. He caught my eye and smiled. He held his mother's hand. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I'll never bring a girl in here again, okay?" She softened and nodded. "You do not have to worry about anyone taking me away from you. I'm yours." We locked eyes, and my heart warmed. My Prince, my friend, will always be mine.