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Karoto wasn't always claustrophobic.
Sounds truly impossible, but there was a time where his breathing wouldn't stop working, where his body could move and find a solution quicker.
Where it didn't choke on a sob first and cry, wishing for once in its life that someone was there to comfort it and hold it close.
There was a start to it.
Every phobia had a reason, every fear had a cause and every single little flinch had something that caused such a reaction.
That's just how it worked.
Does that mean that Karoto understood and forgave his mind for reacting to such a simple thing as a cell or a tight space, causing him to lose precious seconds of progress?
No.
It needed to be faster. Better. Stronger.
There was nothing he could truly do about it though, could he?
It would just keep reacting, keep flinching and freezing in fear once it saw a tight tunnel, refusing to move, refusing to work unless he forced it.
Forcing it was the most used solution beside having a heavy panic attack.
But the carrot still mourned the rare past times where he wasn't afraid, where his body could still deal with such cruelty and escape the grasp of guards.
Oh, how he wanted to erase it all sometimes.
If only his life had been easier.
If only someone had been there.
- - - - - -
- - — -- -
– - -
– _
Karoto liked stealing!
This was not just because it was delightful to see everyone's faces turn to horror at their lost food and - rarely beside if it was a castle - Money!
They all should be angry and pissed, just so they can feel his agony of a stomach unfed.
His record currently is 3 days surviving without food! Which at this age, wasn't as concerning as it sounds to his ears.
Now, stealing sadly does have its cons when he's not filling up his stomach and effortlessly disabling traps as a mere teenager.
One is constantly being berated and thrown stuff at.
Two is the difficulty of even getting anything sometimes.
Three is….urgh.
The cells.
Cells aren't that bad, but they kept preventing him from leaving! Apparently, a small child seeking food is extremely suspicious to the police, guards and sheriffs.
Pathetic little FUCKWITS-
The only good thing was that usually, the cells were easy to escape from! It's just that most of the imprisoned ones didn't care to check or were too loud.
Being young and seeming stupid was truly an advantage.
They also differ, which also gave Karoto a preference of cells.
Sheriff cells were rather easy and nearly comfy if you get caught by the right one.
Sure, they were small, but you could see the entire office at times, having an easy opportunity to actually get out and sometimes, he even stayed on purpose…
BECAUSE THEY HAD BEDS AND FREE FOOD.
Strangely, sometimes of good quality.
And the sheriffs kept napping, so stealing the key was rather easy. Or he could take a brick and then scurry out of the broken wall or dumb ceiling.
Being small is really nice.
Police cells can be a bit difficult.
Depending on which one you get imprisoned in, you either get put into a cell in the house like the sheriff, or they put you into a prison.
Those are mostly cold rocks, inmates who hate you and rarely nice treatment.
Which force truly did such a thing towards outlaws?
But the funniest part is that it can be just as comfy as the sheriff's cell.
Free blankets, a toilet, free food that has a 50/50 percent chance of tasting like dogshit and sometimes, these idiots just leave your escape weapons for free.
You can even get creative with your escape methods!
You can knot blankets together, you can escape through the window by breaking the bars, you can sneak off by doing a job, you can BRIBE.
It was delightful!
So.
Why must the guard cells be the one he ended up the most?
The guard cells differ a lot, but usually they aren't as bad!! They just have a lock! Stupid bars-! STUPID WEAK WALLS OF BRICKS-!
But it all hurts so much more when the guards are the most heartless and sadistic pricks of them.
The first time he ever went in a cell-
SLAM-!
“HAH! Told you this stupid child was the culprit.”
“Well, I apologize for doubting you then, Comrade.”
The two guards had grabbed his arms, pulled him away, pulled on his hair and threw him against the brick wall, laughing and giving each other high fives.
He remembered the spear's wooden end being against his neck.
The lack of breathing.
Wounds and scratches as they gripped his scarf and fisted the fabric into their cold armor, locking the door.
It all hurt.
It hurt so much.
He cried that day, even if he could wait enough to break open the lock with his guitar, running out of that cell as fast as possible.
It had been so tight. So small. So trapped. Being stuck in a place where people could hurt him without any escape options.
A place where the walls were made of rocks and debris, scratching his body and freezing it in turmoil.
Breathing wasn't as hard, but his body remembered it all and his brain was reminded of such a place.
That's how trauma is born.
Of a reminder of fear and hate, shock and mistreatment, emotion long forgotten at times and brewing underneath the surface.
At this time…Karoto shrugged it off.
He laughed! How stupid these guards were to make such a weak lock once again, to underestimate a little child, to laugh about it and just leave.
For quite a while. He didn't have to go back into a cell.
Karoto was smart. Disgustingly, unnaturally and shamefully smart for someone his age.
Breaking open traps, stealing food, grabbing treasure from castles, taking wallets from strangers, tricking other thieves, pranking several citizens, playing music with his guitar-
It went on like this for a few months, even if difficulties came along….that's just how his life was!
Never-ending repetition for survival.
Never-ending torture.
A force of a life he wanted to e n d.
That was.
Until.
H e
WASGRABBEDBYTHESESTUPID-
“GOD FINALLY-”
The guard cursed, having grabbed the little carrots hair as he hissed and trashed, trying to kick the harsh metal before it was hardly hit with a hand.
He restrained the harsh whimper that came as he was dragged off, hearing the conversation of two guards as he was dragged off, the ringing hurting his ears.
Including his head, cause dear Nantes, the piece of shit didn't need to pull this hard-
“Why are we actually…imprisoning a child?”
“Well, this Rascal just can't keep away from other stands! We heard numerous reports from different people.”
Yeah, maybe he had a reason! Wouldn't that be HILARIOUS?
A bitter snicker escaped his grasp at that sarcastic thought, one he couldn't enjoy as the man pulled hard on his hair for even letting out a noise
But it didn't matter! Just because people were staring in disgust or cruel delight as he was dragged off, only rare sights of pity or concern showing for the child, that didn't mean it was important.
It was just a little set back before he could return, even with some pains and a bit of a headache afterwards.
No pain equals no food, and…
No tears. No tears were just perfect, especially once he figured out his escape route for the cell-!
Well.
That's what…he wanted to happen.
But the moment they were heading into the castle's dungeon, the walls of the kingdom were so…weird.
His body was shuddering without his command, fists clenching and opening at a command, feeling a fuzz come into his brain as he blocked out any voices.
The clanking got louder.
Clank clank clank.
Stares came from the other cells. The fire burned in his eyes and made him believe that that's where all this strange sweat that accumulated over his body came from.
Paralysiated. That's what his body was as the faint traces of saliva lined his tongue, somehow becoming more and more evident the more his feet and clothes were dragged over the floor.
Why…was his body reacting like this?
What wa
SWIIISSHH-
SLAM-!
HIS
B O DY.
“Th— w- -I!”
He couldn't hear. The voices anymore.
They faded away with the heavy clang CLANG CLANK CLANK CLANK-
Everything was so tight. Why was it so tight? Why did the smell of dust and fire burn so harshly in his nostrils? It hurt. IT HURT-
Breathing wasnt- he couldnt- HE COULDNT BREATHE-
Choking, slithering and wheezing was all he could do as the saliva returned, choking on it too as his eyes felt so hot yet so dry.
Blurriness filled it all, his feet scrambling against the hardcoldunlovingharshwall, pressingagainsttheROCKS-
His hands grabbed SO METH ING S OFT.
On his neck. Soft and delicate, belonging to him. It could get ripped.
IT WOULD BE HISFAULT-
Hands shot up, gripping back onto his arms which hugged themselves, digging into his clothes so tightly that it all pierced in so much more-
His arms were w a rm. Something was.
F low ing.
The flowing on his face was warm. Hot. Hurting in his eyes, which were all blurry and nothing more than PINPRICKS.
HE WASNTGETTING OUT.
HECOULDNTMOVE.HECOULDNTSEE.ITHURTSOMUCH-
AND HIS THROAT HURT FROM ALL TH
…
He realised.
That someone was screaming.
….That someone.
He noticed.
That it was.
Himself.
Hisarmshurtandhetightlypressedhishandaroundhisneckandgrippedbeforereturningtohisarmbecausethewanttodiewasweakerthanthewanttoescape.
A low sob escaped his throat, stopping the screaming as he keeled over and WRETCHEDALLOVERTHEFLOOR.
PAIN COULDNT DESCRIBE THE AGONY HIS BODY WAS IN WITH THE ARMS STILL FLOWING WITH SOMETHING.
HIS HEADACHE GOT WORSE.
IT NEEDED TO STOP.
ITNEEDEDTOSTOPANDHENEEDEDTOGETOUTORELSEHEWILLGETIMPALED-
He removed whatever sticky texture ruined his gloved and placed them on his heavily wet and red face as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed and broke apart because he was just a child that wasn't supposed to be here and shouldn't be alive and should be happy and
Everything was ruined, his arms were ruined his jacket was broken his scarf was useless like him and his face hurt his cheeks hurt and he shut his eyes to forget.
His breathing made the vomit easier to choke on as more came out and landed on the floor, the smell nauseating as the saliva and waste rolled down his chin
For a moment, he thought that maybe, banging his head against the wall was an act of mercy but yet
B u m p b u m p b u m p b u m p b u m p.
….Something was
B u m p b u m p b u m p. B u m p.
His heart.
Was be ating?
…one hand slipped down to his chest as he listened for once, even if the sobs continued and the vomit came up his throat again.
B ump. B u m p. Bu mp.
Listen. He breathed and listened even if he failed.
Bump. B ump.
B ump.
….Breathing.
In and out.
What did that- Where. When did that. What did those people once say at a panicking. Fruit. Vegetable?
Three. In.
He inhaled, biting his lip and holding his his breath as he gripped his coat, with all the stitches involved.
Focus.
Bump bump.
Three….out.
He breathed out more harshly, but silently heard himself sniffle, the snot running down his face as the cries lessened.
Vomit was slowly going.
Bump. Bump.
Repeat.
Three in.
…Bump. Bump. Bump.
Three out.
Bump. Bump. Bump.
Three…in.
Bump.
Bump.
Bump.
Three out.
…
A final breath was taken as he curled up, hugging himself close as he repeated the mantra in his head, calming the force of his heart and breathing down.
He…was….okay.
It was…okay?
Finally, his brain registered the stinging in his arms and the pain hid face was in, wincing with a silent whimper.
Peeking…he finally noticed what had been flowing.
His arms were lightly bleeding.
Wow. He really gripped them extremely harshly. Didn't even know he had it in him.
Ow. Ouchie.
Owowowowwow- Yep, gonna have to clean that up later or it's gonna have a mighty infection-
And his face was so wet! And this cell is so…so…
Tight.
No. No. Concentrate. It's just a simple lock again! Break it! LEAVE!
Karoto forced his legs up and went forward, hurting from all the rocking he had been presumably doing and not noticing.
He wipped his tears with slight bloody gloves, reaching for the lock quite easily and lazily picking up a rock as he sniffled, looking around once more.
No guards.
No clanking.
….
Hmm…hmhm…dumdidum…
Click.
His humming ceased as he slowly unlocked the door, looking around and closing it as he hugged his arms and ran across these tattered walls once again.
The fire burned bright as his scarf fluttered behind him.
….Alright. Search for bandages. Find some tissues. Wash out the gloves with waterfall water. Restitch the jacket. Drink something. Eat something.
The small. Simple routine.
….
It.
Wasn't normal.
But that's. Okay.
It's.
Okay.
It's fine.
Its fine.
I t s f i n e.