Chapter 01: The Boy
January 17th, 20#@
A boy was born inside a dilapidated room.
The room was the boy's world.
The room where no voice could be heard.
No speck of sunlight could enter.
Inside the room, one could feel one's sanity slowly diminish as the lights were dimly lit. The only source of light was just a single light bulb hanging loosely on the ceiling.
The room covered not with paint, just pure concrete. No photos, books, and other entertaining stuff. A bathroom, a kitchen, and a bedroom stuffed inside a small room.
In this room, a boy was born.
Humans, humans are destined to go through paths. There are no destined paths, no paths that would truly lead to success, and no paths that truly lead to failure. Each one of us takes our own paths and learn about the world in our own different ways.
Parents, egos, greed, lust, happiness, joy, sadness, dreams, despair, freedom, responsibility, and beauty are just some that we experience.
We experience happiness and comfort.
We experience pain and suffering.
The End.
The Beginning.
Life was also given to the boy.
"You fucking bitch! Slut why did i marry you!? You had only given me nothing but pain and torment!!"
"Y-you!! How could you hurt me like this!? What did i do to deserve this!?"
"Ha!? Playing victim? You bitch!"
"Is it all my fault that you could not satisfy me!?"
"Oh!? Then is it my fault that you went to find other men to be a fucking whore to!?"
This is the boy's world.
"Stop! He did nothing wrong, please, stop!"
"Shut up! If it weren't for him, if it weren't for you!"
The boy didn't know how he survived this long. Was it because of pure luck? Or perhaps because his father still had a shred of what little humanity left?
No tears fell from his face anymore.
Did it all dry up from crying too much?
Rather, did his tears refuse to come out, knowing that it was meaningless to do so?
Why does his father beat him so?
Did he just want something that he could beat? A puppet where he could take his anger out on?
Whatever the reason was, the boy asks why he wasn't dead yet.
He wished to die. Countless times. Everyday.
Every hour. Every minute.
Every second.
And yet, he lives to suffer once again.
Even through countless beating, countless blood that he had shed, his life still not left him.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"Why!? Are you really asking me that!?"
"All i wanted was a life away from pain! You promised me that!!"
"And you promised yourself to me!! Then you go do that behind my fucking back while i work tirelessly!?"
At some point, the boy inwardly quit living.
At some point, he no longer cried.
Because since birth....
He only knew suffering.
That was the only way he had been treated since.
He wasn't resentful, really.
That was just all he knew. It was his life.
Yeah, that was all.