Prologue- The agony of the MC

*Monologue*

Sigh, where do I even begin, another day of being locked in this airtight cell, I've learnt to control my breathing so I don't require too much Oxygen, and can make use of the limited amount till those bastards that call themselves my family open the door to give me food or to pour out their frustrations on me, they may beat me half to death but atleast I can get some fresh air again that'll last me till the next day, I don't think knowing how to regulate my breathing is something normal kids do or should even know how to do. Like my life wasn't bad enough after my parents died in a plane crash returning from their business trip, I get moved to the family house filled with my father's relatives who I've never met before, I never really cared to know why my Dad never spoke of them or called them or took me to visit them, but if I had known maybe I would have run away before I was brought here. They hate my father because he got married to my mom against their wishes and they believe that it's because of her and not their horrible attitudes and personalities that he drifted away from them.

But that's not the only reason why I'm being treated like this, like an animal, my father who through his years of hard work had accumulated a considerable amount of wealth had left it all to me, and boy were they unhappy to hear that from the lawyer, I don't know what they think keeping me here would do, if it's the money they want , they can have it what do I care, nothing even matters to me anymore, I've spent the last ten years of my life in this cell because they say seeing me makes their blood boil as I remind them of my father and his sins against their family, In the confines of these 4 walls, this dark space has become my world spending most of my time reminiscing of the past, the days when I could have been said to be happy , reliving those memories over and over again and even having to create alternate versions of reality to see what would have happened if I made different choices in the past and if certain things hadn't happened, this has become my only source of entertainment for all these years, the sound of my own voice had become a distant memory, being parched and thirsty most of the time and not even having anyone to talk to, I didn't see the use of it and completely stopped using it, trapped in this dark abyss , counting the days had become my only way of estimating time and how long I've been trapped here, the door opened once everyday or 2 and with that I could guess that at least a day had passed and that's how I know how long I've been here but it's only an estimation, maybe I've been here much longer than I think, being trapped in darkness for so long really messes with your mind, I was never the most social person to begin with, even bordering on being anti-social and now with how much time I've spent here, if I ever leave this dark cell, would I even be able to communicate and relate with people anymore , I constantly found myself pondering about this question.

Life really is shit huh, it was almost unimaginable to me that , there must be billions of people living their best lives with their families, probably even smiling and being happy, the thought made my chest tighten, if I had enough liquid in my body, I might have cried, Once in a while I found myself wishing that there'd be an earthquake and the roof of my cell would collapse and end it all and if I'm lucky it'll also end the lives of my oppressors, "I'll be waiting for them in the depths of hell" I always thought to myself, even with my shriveled up body which was malnourished making me look like those Egyptian mummies that their organs are emptied and their bodies are preserved or even those kids I used to see on tv when I was younger, the ones from those third world countries whose leaders grew fat as the people suffered and starved to death, irrespective I always tried to move my body around, not too much that I'd consume excess oxygen, but just enough so they can at least get some exercise if wriggling my body slowly on the floor even counted as exercise, I tried to imagine how deplorable the condition of my body must be while lightly brushing my fingers across my body then drawing my hands up as I locked my fingers in my hair combing from my scalp down to the tips, I always wanted to have long hair when I was little but my parents made me cut it so I'd look tidy and neat , if only they could see it now," I must look so cool now", thinking about my parents really hurt , you'd think after so long I'd have become cold and although I was , my only soft spot was the thought of my parent, I opened my mouth to scream but there was no sound, "life really is shit" I thought again to myself, lying on the cold floor which had become the only consistent thing that I knew would never go away or leave me , I loved this cold floor, it never failed to be there for me to lie on and was always there when I squeezed into a ball to take my occasional beatings, I might sound crazy loving not just any inanimate object but a floor, in my defense there really wasn't anything else and I'm only human.

Drifting off to sleep once more, I carelessly wished to myself "I wish the world would just end already".

Who would have known that this wish for the end would be the beginning of my life.