What is the meaning of life? Human... You... And me. Do we all exist just to exist, or is there some profound meaning to our existence? I know it's one of the world's most important questions. Some people have found answers to that seemingly trivial question, while others are still searching for the elusive truth.
Humans are born into the world, each taking their unique path and learning from the world through the experiences of joy, sadness, dreams, despair, freedom, responsibility, beauty, and ugliness. Then comes death and the cycle begins anew. However, for some, like me, life bestowed upon me a world full of hardship.
In the basement on the poor side of New York City, I was born in a place where no one's voice could reach, and not a speck of sunlight entered. My mother gave birth to me, and you might wonder why I survived in such conditions for so long. Was it luck, a trace of humanity in my father, or perhaps he just needed a puppet to vent his anger? Whatever the reason, I constantly dreamt of death, yet I couldn't embrace it. Abuse after abuse made tears a distant memory; that was all I knew since birth.
On the other hand, my mother endured abuse from my father, often calling me a mistake. If I was a mistake, why didn't they use protection? My father, a gangster in an organized crime syndicate, discovered my mother's infidelity with his best friend, leading to her confinement in the basement.
A small TV was my only connection to the outside world. Every time, I wished to leave this world and explore the outside, just like on TV.
Watching, I heard a similar story, like mine. Long ago, a prisoner born in a cave, tied up, could only see the cave's inner wall and shadows projected from the entrance. One day, the prisoner was released, seeing the world outside for the first time.
One day, my father forgot to unlock the door. Leaving the basement and the house, I saw shining lights and walked around, mesmerized by their beauty. I bumped into five kids my age. Falling, I saw a girl with blond hair and the most beautiful eyes, like the ocean.
???: Are you okay?
It marked the initial instance I engaged in conversation with someone other than my mom and dad in the tangible world. The experience left me feeling anxious and frightened as the other kids cast strange looks my way. My mind started to unravel. In an attempt to seek help, I raised my hand to signal the girl, gesturing for assistance to rise. As I cautiously patted my body, a kid with glasses spoke up.
???: Hey, are you a newcomer?
Then the black kid chimed in.
???: Yeah, I haven't seen you around here before.
Following that, the red-haired girl directed her gaze toward me and inquired.
???: Did you recently move in?
In my thoughts, I began questioning myself, wondering if I should respond to them. But how? With words? Using my voice? I didn't know. What should I call them? Then, the kid with weird hair noticed my struggle and empathized with me.
???: Guys... Guys. You're scaring him.
The four of them quickly realized and started apologizing. Then, the blondie spoke up.
???: Oh, I'm sorry... Are you okay?
Y/N: Huh? Ah, uh... yeah.
The kid with glasses then asked,
???: What's your name? My name is Peter Parker.
He pointed at the black kid.
Peter: That is Miles Morales.
YOU ARE READING
Funnel-Web (Y/N x Gwen Stacy)
ActionIf you want people to fall in line you have to instill fear in them. In this cruel world that I live in, only the strong lives and the weak die. But if you were given the chance of a lifetime, what would you do? Hi, my name is Y/N and sorry to say...
