Prologue

Dale Fordon Hospital.

It was November 18th, 1892, the day I was born. I was named after my great father.

I was the son of a great man, Francis L. Grader Sr. and Evelyn C. Grader. I have one sibling, Harold C. Grader, who is a few years older than I am.

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Francis L. Grader Sr. is a man of formidable presence and striking intellect, a figure who commanded respect in every circle he entered. Born from modest beginnings, he rose to prominence through sheer intelligence and relentless ambition. His sharp mind and strategic acumen led him to great wealth and success, making him a prominent figure in both business and social spheres.

Despite his public persona of dignity and honor, Francis often has a ruthless demeanor at home. His reputation as a successful entrepreneur and philanthropist earned him admiration from colleagues and society, but his family life told a different story.

Francis was a strict disciplinarian, enforcing his own rigid standards with little regard for the well-being of his family. His marriage to Evelyn C. Grader, while publicly respected, was marked by a lack of genuine affection, and his subsequent remarriage to a much younger woman further highlighted his self-serving nature. His children, particularly his son Francis Jr., felt the sting of his cold, authoritarian approach.

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The day I was first conceived into this world I didn't cry which made the doctors believe that I was dead but my mother insisted on holding me, once I felt her warmth I cried.

The wavering trees, cold air, and the faces of those who came to see me bearing gifts as my birth mother held me in her arms, I so clearly remember it all as if but a dream. Their eyes stared and smiled all directly towards me as if this moment was the most beautiful thing they'd ever witnessed in their miserable lives.

It was not long after my mother held me in her arms until the nurse took me to be held by my father, his hands were cold compared to my mother's. My brother Harold stood at the sides, watching me over my father's shoulder. He never did like me, I've always felt he didn't.

I have an amazing talent and am special, unlike any other children. At the age of 1, I quickly learned to walk and say some words but my first words were those to call for my mother.

At the age of 3, I learned other languages but my older brother hated it when he heard me boast all about it, he felt incompetent since he wasn't born with any specialty.

It was going well but somehow god hated us, mother caught an illness that no one has discovered any cure for, father took only a little interest in helping Mother but didn't try hard enough to save her. That scum is better with all his women, he only ever saw the mother as a child-bearing object. He's rotten to the core, I resented him ever since then.

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Months not long after mother's death, father remarried to a much younger woman than him. She is much younger than her father and I knew she was only after his money.

As I grew, a lot of expectations were put on by people who knew my father and his dignity as an honorable man, who would have thought that he, a lying and abusive father was well respected by others.

Father never came home often, but if he did do so, he would bring some unknown woman around other than stepmother who I'll soon introduce.

My stepmother is busy. I shouldn't interrupt her. It is always what I thought, and my brother doesn't care what's happening in our household.

My older brother beats me up when he is in a bad mood.

The pain goes away eventually, so I'll just endure it for some time.

Should I go outside and hang out?

But with whom?

I feel anxious about every move I make.

It feels like I don't know who I am.

Is there someone there?

Who said that? The voice kinda echoed …

Our house is big but what's the point? I feel empty.

The first time someone said I'm a bad person… what about brother? He is the evil one.

I ask this series of questions every day. Possibilities and outcomes.

Good or bad? I ask and ask again until it becomes all blank.

Is it bad to be silent?

But if I'm talkative someone will get angry.

Is being smart good? But nobody wants a smart arse.

Should I do this? or that?

Should I become like him or her?

People around me changed to someone better or someone worse… what about me? When will I change?

As time passes, even the people I know increase yet I still feel lonely as before.

Ahh.. my family

They're no good.

My friends…, are they even real?

Pain pain pain go… away???

I should be happy that I have this life.

What life???

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December 24th, 1909.

Everyone around me disappeared.

It's almost Christmas. Just one more day left.

It was only yesterday. I was with everyone. Why is it that I'm alone now?

What went wrong?

*Smirks*