ITROAID - Is this Real or am i DREAMING?! - WIP

CHAPTER 1 - Beyond Unfairness: A Loaf's Worth of Hope

I find my situation unfair. My life is the definition of "unwanted reality, " which many refuse to accept as an actual thing. However, I find my place quiet–I live far from the village, with no commotion at all.

My life has always been terrible. A corrupt government is always on its way to do whatever it takes to extract money for its monetary needs, utilizing taxes as an excuse. How are we supposed to live if they collect our finances almost daily?

I was a child when my father was jailed for tax evasion. It broke me truly, knowing I could not do anything about it, but support my siblings' needs. I can see how much he suffered just to sustain his three children–my younger brother and sister–then there is me; I became the sole provider for my younger brother and sister, which at least I could do to assist my mother, bless her soul works tirelessly at a dead-end job, barely scraping by to keep a roof over our heads. However, the gnawing hunger in my siblings' eyes is a constant reminder of the burden we must bear; their tiny bodies are weakened by hunger.

"It is time to collect your taxes, pay up, folks." The department demanded that they pound their fist on our doors.

"But we just paid the last 3 days..! We're starving.."

I hate living in this place, corrupt government, unfair pay—being taken advantage of!

"Hm, no taxes? Send them to jail!" The Taxman demanded that they face the police pointing to my father.

This memory still haunted me forever. It traumatized me so badly that I cried myself to sleep. Therefore, I decided to move to a place where I would not always see the faces of collectors on the doors of every house.

At the age Of 17, when I met my lowest point in life, my mother got sick, meaning I needed to work to feed my siblings, and for my mother's medical expenses. I've never felt more weights crushed through my spirit, hell, anguished even. At this point; I would do everything so I can provide them with what they need.

One night, I went outside to buy at least a loaf of bread, if that is still affordable. With 4 bits in my hand, I hoped for the best and approached the bakery in our local district.

"Sir, how much for this loaf of bread?" I asked as I pointed to the glass case, where the loaf of bread is.

"5 bits." The baker responded with a judgmental stare. I could tell he was discriminating against me based on how I was dressed. Sure, there were a few holes in my coat and my hat was dusty.

"Wha- 5 bits?! This is outrageous! Last week, it was only 4 bits..." I felt my head spin as I realized the government had once again raised their expenditures.

"Sorry, not sorry, folk. Either step out or buy somethin' else-- yer holdin' the line." He replied with a snobby tone, how rude! But my money is not enough to buy even other kinds of bread.

Feeling defeated, I walked out of the bakery, with nothing in my hand my arms and legs shaking from starvation, in the streets, I sat on the sidewalks, pondering what I could do for supper. Suddenly, a gentle hand landed on my shoulder. I flinched, expecting a pickpocket, but instead met the kind gaze of a young man with warm hazel eyes.

"I apologize for startling you!" The man said, backing away from me. I stood up with a spiteful look on my face.

"It's fine... You weren't going to mug me, are you?" I asked him with an aggravated tone. "No? No! I wouldn't do that. I want to know if you're okay. You seem stressed out." His voice filled with sympathy as he approached me slowly.