From a Different Angle

Broken Boy

I do not think I can remember a day where I was happy, all I can ever think of is the pain that being alive always brought to me. I was wrong to even exist. I knew that much, I mean why would I be in a foster home ever since I was little little if I was meant to be anything. If my mom and dad didn't want me, why would anyone else ever want me in their lives, all I do is screw up in anything I do. I can't even speak properly, everytime I open my mouth I stutter and fall apart like one of those granola bars that nobody likes. Even my body on its own is a disappointment, I was always short and small in every possible way. All I remember from when i was a kid was being thrown around by the bigger kids, adults looking the other way as if I didn't matter to anyone and crying inside small holes where no one could reach me. No one cared about me, so I stopped seeing a reason why to care about myself. Days started to blur into one, one week turned into a month, and one month into a year. Then one day this lady dressed in all black came to the foster home and picked me out like a dog from a litter, I tried to say "Thank you to her" when she picked me out but I stuttered and she did not like it so she hit me. She told me to never speak if I was gonna speak with such broken tongue, and to not get so close to her unless she said so. She took me back to her house, it was a really big house bigger than anything I ever imagined. I was put in a small room with a small bed, and bathroom and a window that let me see the moon when the view was just right. She did not care for me, I knew that from the beginning since no one could ever care for me but at least I had to deal with one person only and not several like before. She fed me when she wanted, most of the time it was dog food if not it was just water or whatever it was to keep me alive for her entertainment. After spending a few months in her house she took me to a room where a man was on his knees crying, I did not know why he was crying but she gave me this long shiny blade and told me to "Kill him, for me" I raised the shiny blade and brought it down against his neck making his head fall off and blood go all over. She got mad at me for getting her dress ruined so she took the blade from me and drove it into the palms of my hands. I did not cry or get mad, I did wrong. I should have known that her dress was gonna get dirty. I deserved it. From then on she made me carry the blade with me at all times, I was sent in to kill anyone I was told. I was often asked "Do you not feel anything? What if it was you?" I never knew what to answer to these people, I simply killed them without any need for dialogue besides I wasn't allowed to speak because it sounds bad. Speaking of that she ended up putting this thing on me, it has something sharp on the sides that are pushed further and further in everytime I try to speak. It hurts a lot to eat nowadays, but it's okay, I deserve it anyways. It isn't like I was born to be anyone. I heard that tomorrow I am gonna be working with someone, maybe they can help me answer that question everyone keeps asking me. I just hope that they find me useful.