Fading Lights: Returned Lights | Herobrine x Redrare

Part 31: Childhood dreams

Ever since I was young, there was something... Wrong. 
I had no feelings. 
I was broken from the very start of my life. There was nothing for me. 
Whenever other children laughed and ran around, I watched emptily. Working for the orphanage staff was something that never bothered me. 
The orphanage... 
I had no parents. When I was born, they gave me away. I never got to know them. 
All that I knew was that they were happy without me around. 
Happy like the children that played with balls and dolls, with chalk and toy cars. 
My caregivers always told me to go play with them. Have fun running around and playing their simple and thoughtless games of imagination and fantasy. 
Whenever I tried tho, the children would say no, send me away. Mock me. 
It never really bothered me. I was a silent child. Weird in their eyes, with no emotions. Like a doll... 
Nothing ever gave me joy. I could watch as children threw water balloons at each other, could watch theatre plays that would make other people cry in laughter or sadness without even just having a small emotion on my face. 
The world was dull and empty around me. Like a box that had nothing inside it. Like an empty room with no furniture. Just white walls, white floor, white ceiling. 
I never complained about bad food, or rude kinds, or punishments. Every single day I watched the other children have fun and share their emotions with others. 
I soaked it up like a sponge. 
Whenever we went outside, parents would usher their children inside once they saw me. Small babies cried at the utter lack of emotion in my brown eyes, the missing smile and facial expression. Parents were scared I'd hurt their children, called me retarded and a misfit. 
And so, when I was sent to school the first time, I did something I never would've done, if my hand hadn't been forced. 
I started to pretend.  
I cried whenever something sad happened. I laughed whenever something funny or good happened. I acted disgusted, angered, tried, bored, happy. 
And the children loved it. 
I started having friends. Told them fake stories about my life. Gave fake laughter at their stories whenever I saw it fit. 
I portrayed the moods of people onto my own self as the days went on. The children loved every second. 
The adults hated it. 
At one point, I had gotten to fourth grade in elementary school, boys started to bully me. They pushed me around, insulted and punched me. They wanted to see the monster inside me. The emotionless part of me. I didn't let them, pretended to cry in pain and sadness. Even stayed away from school for a few days until the police came and asked why I refused to go to school. 
Everyone saw a side of me that was fake. Some adults forgot about my past self and started being nice to me again. They thought it was because of the orphanage, or because I was too young. 
They were fools. 
When I eventually figured that the bullying was too much for me, they had started dunking my face into the toilet bowls and pulled my hair, I decided to do something I saw from a few very young boys whenever they threw a temper tantrum. 
I destroyed whatever I could reach at that moment. 
A teacher of mine was a smoker. She always had a lighter with her. One day I snuck into the lounge, grabbed it and left. She thought that she lost it outside, so she went there. On the way she noticed that someone had closed and locked all doors. 
Silly janitor. He was an old man, so he oftentimes forgot stuff in the toilets whenever he cleaned. I found the key. 
The heavy smell of gasoline was the last thing the students smelled before they heard the familiar click of the lighter. 
And within seconds, the school was ablaze. 
I watched it burn down from the outside, the lighter in hand. There was no emotion on my face as the alarms rang and the sprinklers opened. The water never came out of them, just flammable gas. 
The screams of the 300 or so people rang all throughout the city as the firetrucks and police arrived. They never found out why the school started to burn, and who had poured all the gasoline. Who had toyed with the sprinklers, who had burnt the house and the people down. 
Every single person in there has died. 
Every once in a while I came by while in high school, showing my fake smile. The lighter was always in the pocket of my pants. 
The years passed and I grew up into a young man with flawless grades and charmingly smooth behavior. Girls fell for me left and right. But I never could answer their love for me. I tried, but failed the first time. There was no love involved... 
Once I graduated I decided to start up the Mojang company. We made a world in which people can be creative. 
Over time my old personality faded and I built up a new one. I dismissed my old name, Markus, and got myself a new alias. Notch. 
My hopes in creating the HQ was attempting to fix my problem. but nothing truly worked. I hated this, this was my very last chance. I didn't believe in this love thing, there was no way that would work. Only in fairytales, but this wasn't one. This was the harsh, cold reality. 
And then... I met him. 
My savior. 
A rough meeting, considering he saw Herobrine and me argue, but a worth one. 
When he entered the room, I felt something change. Colors and emotions finally entered my life. I knew I couldn't loose him, no matter what. He's my only chance at finally escaping this dull and empty life...!!! 
And now... 
He's here. Watching. Crying real tears. 
My body didn't hurt. Nothing hurt. I couldn't feel anything. 
But my heart ached as I saw Jay cry his heart out at my misery. 
I was genuinely proud that I protected him, but sad that I had to hurt him like that. 
And then I heard his voice. 
"We're going to safe him... No matter the cost..." 
At that point I knew... I did everything right. He's not mad. He's just happy that I'm still alive. 
Darkness overwhelmed me as Hollow picked me up and carried me outside, followed by a very calming and warm feeling of peace...