prologue

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its a chilling realization to realize you have no control. you might have influence on what happens, but at the end of the day, the world chooses what happens.

when Otis made that discovery it was devastating, it felt like the world was flipped upside down. it left him scrounging for anything, and i mean anything, to feel in control of.

he was just a normal kid, 15 years old 16 in February, he's around 5'7, he had dark brown hair with the prettiest green eyes and he had a pale complexion.

he didn't know how to deal with all this. the world was leaving wounds all over his heart and soul.

he was just a kid.

that was where it started. he decided right then and there, that the world was no longer in control of his pain, he was.

from that day forward, his arms were wrapped in bandages, he only wore long sleeves and pants, and he only took showers that stung. he was a new person.

he was angry, and he was bitter. it felt like the world was his enemy and they were at a constant battle. he wasn't going to let the world win, he had control now, and it couldn't be taken away. this control that he thought had, was the the worst kind of control, but it was all he had.

maybe one day he will be take back more control from the world but until then, this was all he had and he wasn't planning on letting it go.

even with all the consequences he's forced to face, it all compares nothing to losing the war against the world.

even with months of people asking "aren't you warm in that hoodie" it still wasn't worth it, but you would think after the what felt like hundredth time of someone asking, he would stop wearing it, but he couldn't.

he's arms were still covered in angry red lines. maybe he could just stop cutting his arms and just stick to his thighs, but his arms would still be covered in hideous scars.

he hated his scars, he hated the way they make him feel, they made him feel weak, he hated feeling weak. they were just constant reminders that he was being bested by the world. ' they're so ugly' he thought, 'they look disgusting'. he couldn't wait for the day he would look down at his body and see victory, the day were he won. then his scars would mean something. until then he was ashamed

he didn't want people to see him like this. they couldn't know that this was the only thing he had control over, they couldn't know he was losing the battle of control with the world, that he was weak, he couldn't let them see him so powerless. they would think badly of him, they would shame him. he does that enough himself, he didn't need anyone else adding on to it.

their words already cut deeper then any scar on his body, he couldn't take more

he didn't want to think about the consequences when someone finally noticed his "struggle".

it's scary to think about what will happen when someone actually sees what he's done to himself. everyone will hate him, they will never think of him the same ever again, everything will change.

what was scariest though, was the that it was all inevitable. no matter what he does, it will still have the same outcome. there is no way around it. 'fuck the world' was the only thought running through his head. the damn world was winning again, and it isn't fair, it's bullshit. he's control was slipping.

the more he thought about it the more it made him upset, he was so mad about this all, why was the world so good at making his life hard, the world didn't deserve to win, he just couldn't let it defeat him.

it's quite a humbling experience waking up on the bathroom floor, covered in your own blood, with empty licker bottles next to you, but he was willing to deal with it.
that's just become a normal occurrence for Otis at this point.

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