Everyone struggles. Everyone has issues. Everyone loses hope at one point. Everyone hates, loves, has pain, and has joy.
But some don't.
Some people have daily struggles. They aren't appriciated for who they are. Constantly miserable, not being ab...
Gradient's POV "Why can't you be more like your brother?" The words hurt. Something inside of me snapped that day. My dad--Ink--his words cut deep this time; but not as deep as my knife. "I am not PaperJam! It's always PJ this, and PJ that! The Golden Child. He's SO perfect. Athletic, skilled, creative. Everything I'm not! And I don't need you rubbing it in my face EVERY DAY! As if I didn't already know. I hope you're happy. Bye." I shouted as I walked to the front door. My father--Error--poked his head out of his room upstairs. "Don't you walk out that door, Gradient." He warned. I didn't look back as I slammed the door behind me. Having already prepared for this occasion, I picked up my backpack from the bushes. I'm not going back. The streets were dark, the only light coming from a flickering street lamp a while away. That's where I headed. But as I neared I saw a dark figure leaning against the lamp post.
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"What are you doing out so late, kid?" He said in a taunting way. I didn't respond. He looked at me. "I'm here to give you a chance. A new life, and opportunity. What do you say?" He offered. Not even looking back I nodded. My home held nothing for me anymore. The skeleton chuckled. "I'm Nightmare. Follow me, young Gradient."
