Danganronpa: Reincarnation

Reincarnation of Love and Obsession

Useless

Worthless

Mistake

Useless 

Worthless

Mistake

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Good for nothing

Kill yourself

No one would miss you

Do it

The words won't stop... they kept repeating... again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again.

He was hated. He was despised. He was hated. He was victimized.

He wasn't pretty. He wasn't smart enough. He didn't have any talent of any kind. He wasn't special.

No one loved him. No one wanted to love him. No one would love him. He would be alone... forever.

Ever since he was a child, everyone hated him. His parents would always find a reason to beat him up. They would throw their alcohol bottles at them, the glass would cut his skin and the alcohol would make the wounds even more painful. They would starve him and made him the maid of the house while they sat there, drinking their lives away.

Their favourite method of torture was to lock him up in The Cupboard. Every time he made a mistake, they would put a nail inside. But to his parents, even breathing was a mistake. Every time he was sent into the cupboard—which was around 3-4 times a day—he would have to kneel up in an uncomfortable situation. His parents liked to send specifically after they had beaten him into a bloody pulp, so whenever he was sent to The Cupboard, he would sway from all the blood loss, and the nails would cut him... again and again and again and again.

It wasn't just his parents either. Everyone from school would bully him because he was weak. They would beat him up, call him mean names and write horrible things on his desk. They would pull his hair and shove his face into toilet bowls. The teachers definitely weren't any help either. After the bullies' punishment ended, they would quickly come back to torment him, while the teachers just ignore everything. Eventually, the students started putting flowers on his desk.

The boy would always cry. He would cry and cry and cry and cry. But eventually, he stopped crying. He stopped resisting, he just accepted his fate. He would lie there on the floor, half-bleeding to death, drowning in the sea that is suffering. Not a single shred of light in his eyes. No tears... not even the sun seemed to reflect off his eyes, they were just blank.

Maybe the boy just got tired of crying. He accepted it. He was a boy that was destined for nothing but suffering.

He was worthless. He was useless. He was a mistake. He should just die.