Your Cureless Prince..

Why am I even here?

Adrik

What do you name the whirlwind of questions that comes to you when your emotions and your logical sense are both in battle.

Like right now, I am questioning myself this: what would have changed if my existence ceased to exist? Another question, now my logical mind having the upper hand was the who asked it.

Even if I never existed, they would have get another one to torment and torture, right? Life would victimize another innocent soul. No, I am not saying I am innocent; I am not. But maybe the person in my place would be innocent, right.

I don't know what the world has against me. What kind of sin I did, I would want to know what I did.

It wasn't me who decided to be born from a mother who takes pleasure on pleasuring other men. I didn't purposely decide to witnessed my mother killing herself.

I was 9 then. I am suppose to have blurry images of my mother doing her bad deeds, but each and every image is printed in my brain.

I can't and won't erase it even if I want to.

I don't know who my father is, probably some drunk,  wasted, gambler, one of my mother's client. My mother wasn't my mom, she was just a person my 9 year old self shared a house with. A roommate.

God knows how I managed to stay alive in that den of a house.

After she died, I didn't know what to feel. Guilty or relieved. But I slipped into the ocean of guilt, you know why? Cause I was feeling relieved. I was feeling guilty because I was feeling relieved.

But I share her DNA anyway. Along with the sperm donor's.

I am now in a foster house. With a man who is no so different from my mother. In this 8 years I changed 6 foster houses. This is my 7th. I don't mind though. This man minds his own business and I can't care less. I am relieved even, that he doesn't care.

It's good that I am not settled in the world. Who likes this chaos anyways.

I don't care about school. They don't care about me. Good.

I don't need them. I don't need their chaotic mind.

"Hey, ballsack, what happen to your eye?"Someone yelled from across the field.

Why can't they just leave me alone. I ducked my head even more, gazing down at my worn and torn backpack. My jaw set in a lock.

"You won't answer now, would ya?" The voice came nearer.

I knew they are near me now. What are they doing outside when they are suppose to be in the canteen, eating their lunch and fool around like they were suppose to.

My backpack got knocked out of my lap by a foot with Nike.

I was seating down on the bleachers. Far away from everyone. I don't want to see all their faces. They don't want to see mine. I disgust them, they disgust me. Mutual relationship.

My last year and I wanted to be just invisible, a dark shadow looming around the corner.

But guess they have better ideas than just minding their own business. Like throwing a football at me and kicking on my sides. I don't know what they get doing this things to me.

"Why wouldn't this mute scumbag talk? Hey, you were quiet the whole month, ballsack, time to speak up!" My head jerked to the side forcefully with the sudden blow I just got on my jaw.

My nails dug into my palms, my knuckles tightened, aching to meet their pretty face. But I controlled it.

I did everything I could, I fought back, complained the authorities, but who would listen to me when there is no bigger support behind me. Like my bloody parents.

My fosters never really cared.

Now as I wanted to keep quiet and turn into a mute. I don't want to deal with all this.

"Where are you walking at? Hey! Ballsack!"

"Hey! You scumbag! Wait up."

I strode away with my face red in anger. My knuckles turning white and jaw bursting with pain. My broken mirror would greet a bruised face again.

I just walked and walked for I don't how long. My mind was a blank piece of black paper. It didn't see anything but red.

The contents of my backpack sprawled out when I hurled my backpack near the tree trunk lying against the small stream.

I settled down on the trunk, supporting my head with my hands. Tugging my hair, my frustration got to its peak.

"I need something I can live for." I murmured, still tugging on my hair.

I will go mad if this, whatever this is, continues any longer, it has to stop.

I feel like my life doesn't have any purpose. I don't even know why I wake up in the morning. I don't know why I carry on with my life. I don't have anything I can look forward to.

If anything people wants me gone.

I dare say I have anyone who cares for me. There is not a single soul.

Why am I even here?