In a hovel, on the broken streets of an old forgotten city, lay a man of a great many sufferings. He did not choose this life, rather, life assigned it to him. The rules of life are simple, however cruel; To the average human unfair. Very much like Newton's third law 'For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction', life has a cruel way of balancing out the world with it's own brand of mean: 'For everything in the world, there be an equal and opposite.'. As such, for every good thing in the world, there is something bad, to make up for the influx of good. Sadly, This man has the great burden of being on the opposite side of the fence.
The man (whom he somewhat proudly, albeit shyly, proclaims himself as 'Nathaniel' to curious passersby.) has a strange affinity for bad luck. You see, Nathaniel was born an orphan, the mother birthing him, rather than having the heart only a mother could, and keep Nathaniel for herself, had immediately rescinded ownership, and left him with the medical staff; Signing all necessary paperwork that comes with such a horrible thing, further compounding the premonition that this woman was truly heartless. (upon my invisible spectation of her, she turns out to be a highly renowned political figure, who would expect something so cruel from a political type?)
He grew up in an orphanage, situated in the southernmost areas of the town. Officially, the building is proclaimed as 'St. Mark's Orphange'; However, the locals and occupants had coined the name 'The Shod' after one such incident a thief had broken in, and for some reason or another, had decided to steal all the shoes in the entire building.(The thief was never caught, strangely enough. Imagine trying to be inconspicuous with a large sack of used orphan's shoes... Let alone breaking into forty five children's rooms and taking their shoes from inside their closets without a single one witnessing the incident.)
Nathaniel, despite being in a very impoverished situation, had taken an absolute love and thirst for knowledge. By the time he was twelve he had read every book in the local library.(upon inspection is rather small, being more along the likes of a small gas station minus the delectable cardiac arrests and lung squelchers, for about four bookcases, two of which being non-fiction material.) Nathaniel was, in every sense of the word, a genius. Nathaniel had a very good grasp on the sciences of life; Math, psychology, engineering, etc. Had Nathaniel been in one of the more developed districts of the city, and not his squalor of one, he would have had so, so many doors held wide open for him. Sadly, no miracle had randomly chosen him to bestow wealth, or even a choice. Nathaniel may have had what he thought were choices, however, all his choices were either something that would impact with a negligible amount of force, or would leave him in a deeper depression that his life was. Such is the way of life, I suppose.
Up till his eighteenth year, Nathaniel had a very boring life of an orphan, like every other child however, he had to attend a public school, in which he had kept to himself mostly. Nathaniel kept his nose clean, never did any drugs, crimes, or acts of violence; He had achieved this through diligence in his schoolwork, at the admittedly high price of a social life. Nathaniel had no friends, he was indeed a very antisocial person, although he was extremely kind, humble, and honest one.(Had he really invested more into his social skills, even a little, he would have had friends, even ones that would care for him and help him achieve happiness; ah well. Coulda, shoulda, woulda, didn't.)
Nathaniel did wonderfully in school, nearly straight A's the whole way through, but no colleges approached him at the end of high school, no men in camouflage uniform stomped up to him, pamphlet in hand, and nobody was there to congratulate him on his success. Nathaniel well and truly felt accomplished, sure, but he felt so utterly, despairingly alone. He had to get a job, of course, for food, water, and shelter; Yet due to his minimum wage job as a librarian, he could not afford such an expensive thing such as an apartment, let alone a house.(the man whom owned the library offered him a place to stay at his home, or even in one of the unused offices in the back, however Nathaniel had no incentive to be such a bother.) Eventually, he had built himself a nice little plywood shack behind a gated alleyway; Somebody had left the key in the lock one day, and he had taken it for himself, and the wood he had taken from old unused plywood racks that were decaying in a nearby dump.
Well, here we are. Nathaniel lying in his little gated shack in a decrepit neighborhood; a brilliant mind forced to be subjected to an empty, useless, unremarkable life. Such is the way of things in a world of greed these days, even I cannot stand such a thing, me being a...
Hold on...
I have yet to tell you who I am or what I do. What a terrible thing, I haven't introduced myself and here I am rambling about some Orphaned homeless genius hobo.
Well, my name is-
