Prologue
My life is a mess, a constant struggle for survival i can never get a work, heck I don't even blame em my record ain't that good based on all the shady business i have to do to survive i have zero form of credibility. Sometimes i wonder why i'm not even in jail yet.
Hated by everyone i've ever tried to mingle with, at times i wonder why god even created me. It seems this is nothing but a sick joke to feed his cruel desires, i mean you could've just killed me. A black haired boy thinks to himself as he looks at the moon it's white light blending with the city lights illuminating his dusty face with a bandage on his cheek snow gently falling, dressed in a slacked white t-shirt covered by a big black coat covered in patches to protect him from the cold and a pair of baggy shorts also covered in patches, with his sneakers that are obviously pass their lifespan, on his back is an equally dead backpack it's zip barely holding on to it's contents.
He never knew his parents, never had siblings, never had a true friend neither a home he could truly call his own, never felt the thrillful sweetness of love neither the burning compassion to achieve anything worthwhile, all he wanted to do was get rich and to leave a good life.
Everyone passes him tactifully avoiding him, no one seems to ever notice him, he is nothing more but a phantom. it's like he's always invisible, already used to the feeling using it to his advantage as he tactifully pickpockets people.
" I WANT TO DIE!! " he always find myself thinking. Till he found one thing that always quenches the hopeless feeling.
" BOOKS " he could can never seem to get enough of it. It takes him into a whole new world were his worries are practically nonexistent, he experience feelings he has never felt.
He remembers it like it just was yesterday, he was soaked in the rain when the weird old man gave him that book before he gave up the ghost.
He walks into a dark ally and starts to count his harvest, discarding the wallets and the bank cards he couldn't use em even if he wanted to, pocketing the jewelries in his coats inner pocket.
He hears whistling sounds, raises his head and sees a punk with red tinted spikey hair and a scar on his cheek, accompanied by two people.
" Sh*t." the boy yells and tries to make a getaway.
But got his path blocked off by two other guys one bearing a mohawk, the others head shaved clean.
" Were to my little compadre." The spiky haired dude announces jokingly grinning evilly.
" Hand it over." He bends down so he could face the boy directly.
" I don't know what you're talking about." The kid stubbornly struggling.
The spiky haired guy shakes his head, clicking his tongue. he clicks his finger and the lean guy beside him, punches the kid in the gut forcing him to exhale alotta vapor. They start beating the boy as they collect everything he had on him. He grabs the kids chin his eyes now swollen and his lip bleeding.
" Isn't that not better kid. I've told you before, just hand the stuff over and we wouldn't have to go through this whole monologue each time we meet, you owe me quite alot." he says then pushes the kid away.
The kids spits on the ground and punches the floor, fuming with rage and hate, he drags his beaten body up and walks away.
He makes it to his home, an abandoned dark warehouse. He flicks a level up and the dim lightbulb illuminates the place containing nothing but a dead red couch, alot of cardboard boxes, a crappy old radio, some clothes all strewn around with books scattered on the ground, some forming piles on the boxes. He drops the bag, then throws himself on the couch.
" Another worthless day, to add to my wounds. God 1000 me zero." he laments as he stretches himself on the couch.
His stomach starts to growl and he looks over to a discarded laundry bag now empty.
" Seems i need to restock." He sighs
Then pulls out some dirty old wrinkled notes, coins out and some coupons. This would do for now. He heads out once more, climbing down the building, he takes multiple turns and ends up in a quiet convenience store were he buys a few snacks.
" It's so called." the boy absentmindedly says as he blows hair into hid arm.
He pays the old man, the man gives him a knife shapped keychain and hot cocoa.
" It's on the house." The old man smiles at him.
" Thank you." The boy accepts whilst smiling s bit.
He starts heading back but meets the gangsters again, this time they seem to be harassing a girl, the mohawk guy notices him and tells him to beat it.
" Please help me." the girls face is covered in tears as she hopelessly struggles as they rip her clothes apart piece by piece
" It feels so much better when they struggle." The spikey haired guy grabs her neck and licks her cheek.
The kid turns around and starts to walk away, this has nothing to do with me, he thinks.
" No please help, me." The girl yells desperation in her voice.
I never thought I'd see the day when you were such a woos. the old mans voice rings in his ear.
" Damn it." he turns around and walks towards the guys.
" You guys should let her go." he proclaims.
They all pause and look at him, mohawk guy steps foward pulling out a crowbar
" Trying to play the hero now, seems like it's time to jog up your memory." He grins menacingly as he dashes forth.
The kids grabs the cocoa and splashes it on the thugs face, quickly sidestepping he yelps in pain and slips on the snow, falling face flat he drops the crowbar. The kid picks it up immediately and jabs the on the head with it, he immediately falls unconscious.
The bald guy pulls out a knife and rushes him, he bends down slips on the ice and drags his leg with the crowbar. He also falls face first and recieves the same treatment, a bludgeon to the head, dropping the blade outta his unconscious hand.
The kid is now breathing heavily exhuding large amounts of vapor. The spikey haired guy stops.
" Do i have to do everything myself." he flings the girl at the other two.
" Hold on to her." He orders them and starts to walk towards the kid.
" You're starting to get on my nerve kid." he says whilst cracking his knuckles.
He immediately dashes foward, instantly appearing before the kid giving him a knee jab before he could even react.
My insides feels like it's on fire. his mind explodes as he exhales more vapor. The spikey haired guy grabs his hair and smacks him on the ground.. The kid writhes in pain from the impact.
He starts to crawl away but feels the keychain as the spikey haired guy grabs his coat, he immediately pulls it off causing the spikey haired guy to loose balance because of the force he exerted when he yanked the coat.
The kids turns around and jams the keychain into his eyes, the guy yells out in pain as blood gushes out his eyes, The kid grabs the dagger the baldy dropped earlier and gets on his kness.
" You filthy urchin." he pulls out a dagger and lunges at the kid.
The kid's points the dagger foward and closes his eyes it softly pierces the guys chest leaving him in disbelief as he falls down spurting blood from his mouth, his blood slowly soaking the new red.
The kids starts stomping the thugs skull recalling all he had done to him.
" Who is the street rat now, who is at the bottom now." the kid says menacingly.
He stops and looks at the others he's now covered in blood, they immediately release the girl and flee for their lives. The kid starts walking towards the girl but immediately stops and falls on his knees, he feels a sharp pain in his abdomen, he reaches down only to find a dagger securely lunged in it.
He falls face flat and starts bleeding, his blood slowly soaking the snow. He reaches out to the girl who is kneeling on the floor.
" Help me." He gasps.
She yells and runs away, panic written on her face.
His hand slowly falls to ground.
He gasps for air, this is what i get for playing hero.
" I guess i won God." he says crisply, his breathing getting heavier and heavier.
He starts to sob, " I DON'T WANT TO DIE " his vision getting blurry until everything turns pitch black.