The life of a destitute that I’ve been living started at a wrong period in the history of mankind. Yes, this absolute moment in the thread of time served its purpose. However, it wasn’t the last thing to happen to me.

During the moment of my first consciousness, I felt I did not belong to the human race. Actually, it took me a certain number of years to realize the social fabric. I knew children have parents when I was five, and the years thereafter taught me all about the suffering and hardship life has to offer to a chosen few. Luckily, I was one of them.

Growing up, I was good enough to make a few friends, among whom abuse, terror, and trauma were in my close circle. They had been loyal to me, and while terror, in some capacity, has left me, the remaining two are there for me even to this day.

The three musketeers were with me at home, in the field where I used to play with a few human children, at school, at the house of the relatives, and possibly everywhere. Equipped with these, I was supposed to “progress in life,” which I didn’t. Then, I was against the social construct by force, but during my latter years, I became against it by choice, as I don’t wish to follow something that has brought ruin to my one and only life.

I will most definitely come up with the follow-up. Stick around!