[ WP ] The characters from one of your abandoned stories find out that you have given up on them .

Bob attempted to wiggle his fins, but found he was so stiff he could not move. Why was he so sore? Every muscle in his small body ached, his scales hard and immobile. 
 
 Preoccupied by his aching body, he failed to notice the once, glistening blue water that he had called home seemed less vibrant now - grey and smudged, like the reflection of a Japanese fishing boat on the surface. 
 
 He struggled for what seemed like hours, his mind writhing around in the prison that was his immobile body. *Why* he whispered to himself. He struggled to remember what had gotten him here, *how* he could have gotten here. 
 
 Paralyzed, he let his mind wander through his last memories. He was traveling on an adventure through the seas! With his cousin and his best friend the mermaid - what was her name? Alana? Ariana? Arie- 
 
 **COPYRIGHT** 
 
 Large ominous letters cut off his train of thought, floating in front of his eyes. Gazing at them, he noticed how grey the water had becoming, adding to his growing panic. 
 
 `` What - what - what are you?'' He asked the bizarrely floating shapes. He had no idea what they were and yet - he could understand them. But he could not decipher their meaning. He continued to ask if questions, begging for some answer to which it did not reply. 
 
 Bob attempted to scream, but could not move his lips. He was merely a flounder, a simple sea fish. He had no claim to fame, he was not a character but rather a living being, just trying to get the most out of his 5 years of life. What was this grey sea he sat in, what was this `` copyright''? What was his life? 
 
 Was this his story, to die here? 
 
 And then, staring at the shapes floating in the water, unable to move he realized - this was his story. *He* was a story. He was a figment of imagination for some 7 year old girl, a token character placed in a story that was not the author's own. He had been born into a universe that was not his. 
 
 While his cousin and his cousin's mermaid friend had gone onto live their tale in an brighter, cleaner ocean far away - he was here. In a sea of paper, surrounded by ideas that were owned by another - and so fiercely protected that this `` copyright'' seemed to prevent them from being mentioned, even in the deepest corners of his mind. 
 
 What was his life now? Was he doomed to float here immobile, waiting for his young God to come back to the page? Why had she done this? Was his story so foul that she had forgotten about him? Would he float here forever until eventually the graphite melted together, leaving him as little more than a smudge. 
 
 If he could have shed a tear, he would have. For now, he had nothing else to do but sit here, and pray that one day, someway somehow, that little girl would return.
