Rising Smoke || A Radioactive Biohazard

Born to be a Villain

No person is born evil. No child intentionally wants to kill or hurt. In a world full of quirks, each person is special. Each power is unique to the user, being from one parent or a combination of both. Come the age of 4, a child should show signs of developing a quirk within the year. However, some unlucky off-spring has no quirk. A child born quirkless is a child born to fail in this modern world. There are jobs that do not require quirk usage, but it is expected to at least have one. This is the way. Those without quirks are often left without a voice. Those who do have quirks are praised and often scouted sometimes to become heroes. Society loves them. People watch them create a safe environment for everyone to live in. No matter how small your quirk may be. Every quirk has a use. Every. Quirk.

So, what happens when someone is born with a quirk...that kills.?

What happens to kids who have a quirk that causes harm to be used? A quirk that causes chaos and an imbalance?

Tell me. Won't you. Will that child grow up loved, held close, and still have that praise? Will that child have friends to play with? Won't you tell me? Will that child smile carefree and happy? Answer me please. Will they come home to warm food and open arms? Will they be welcomed to society if they killed someone else? 

No. They wouldn't. Robbers, Hackers, Murderers, Abusers- they are all throw into the grey cell that they have to call home. No love, no mercy, no remorse for them. They have hurt others, some on purpose, some on accident. They are all convicted with the gavel called Justice. The scale tips as the laws become stone to our society. In special cases, children are often taken away from their homes, and the government sort through them as just a face on a piece of paper. Never seeing or learning about the child. The struggles, the mental state- they are thrown into a new environment as the paper is thrown into the filing cabinet, never to be seen again unless the child becomes a problem again. 

This is the way society is. 

You're a villain, you must be watched. 

You must be contained. 

This is decided the moment your quirk manifests. It's chains appear and grab at your wrists, ankles, and neck. It chokes you but you don't lose air. Judgement is casted upon you. This moment forward, your path can not be changed. It's chosen for you. Many do not learn this lesson and try to change their destiny.  This string that is tied around your fingers cannot break as the universe moves you around like a puppet. There is no place for a child like this. 

We are all taught to be good, to treat others with respect. From an early age of understanding, manners and kindness are a must to live properly in society. After all, nobody likes a fraud. No one likes disgusting mush on their walls. We all want a clean house right? Tell meaningless praise to someone who doesn't ask for it. Suck up to others in order to gain favor from them. Shield the old, help the sick. All to be a decent human in this world. This is the way.

Well, I've been good haven't I?

I have praised everyone around me.

Where is my good karma? Give it to me. I deserve it after all I've endured. 

I have helped. I have done what I'm told.  Where is my praise?

Give it to me.

I demand it. 

I've done everything to be a working member of society. I stand here waiting for that cry of help. I go to it every time. Every single time. 

You slapped my hand away. You're the ones who have made me into this. Let me tell you. No child is born a villain. However, its society who has failed to save me- it is them who has made villains. 

However, just like a child. I held onto hope. I hoped one day a hero would come along and save me from myself. Save me from this gavel that has grounded me to these chains. Help me and reach out a hand. Protect me. I held onto this, wishing that someone would notice as I slipped further into the dark that came closer and closer. My light fading away as I realized that just like a child that held onto foolish dreams, I needed to grow up. I needed to mature and realize that those stories told to us as kids, are just that- a story. Nothing more to it. This hope I held so close and shielded from others stomping on. No one could extinguish it except me. I held onto it. I so foolishly and desperately held on. 

Such a childish thing.

What a silly dream, wanting to become a hero. A dream so many children had. I believed it as much as the next kid.

What a stupid mistake that had been.