"The only thing fair about reality is how unfair it is to everyone."
There were so many questions I asked myself on a daily basis. They either consisted of the normal "Why is the sky blue?" to the depressing "Why am I alive?"
It was a daily task that I've had since I was young because all I could ever do was question. It was the only thing keeping my mind off the horrors that were inflicted on me day and night.
Because to me, daydreaming about things you'll never understand is much better than staying in the real world where you have all the answers.
When I was younger, I also had many questions. Too many questions, I suppose, because every time I asked I was met with a hit.
"Why can't I go outside?" Slap.
"Can I have a toy?" Slap.
"Why can't I play with the other kids?" Slap.
"Are you my dad? Do I have a mom?" Slap.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
Slap.
Sounds funny when I think about it, but it truly isn't. I just don't know how to deal with things without using dark, self-deprecating humor. It's either that or I cut myself off completely. Feeling empty is fun, isn't it?
As I got older, things started making more sense. The daily beatings. The daily tests. The daily training. The daily murders. The daily broken bones. The daily scars.
I was just a puppet. A toy. I was given these "great opportunities" to better myself, so I had to use them to benefit my abusers. I couldn't understand it. I couldn't understand why.
WHY AM I HERE?
WHY AM I STILL FUCKING HERE?
WHY AM I ALIVE?
Why me?
I was 5 when I went on my first mission. I was just a kid, scared and helpless, yet I didn't blink twice when I saw the body hit the ground.
Eventually, it got to the point where I was able to go out on missions alone. I was older, smarter now. I guess they thought that I would now understand that I couldn't escape. I couldn't run. This was my life. They give me a picture, I give them a head. Innocent or not.
I got more comfortable with the missions. I was 9, not even batting an eye at the blood squirting out of someone's throat or the way some guy's eyes were still blinking after I cut his head off. It all became very surreal because I knew this was my fate.
My fate that I questioned daily. My fate that caused me immeasurable pain. My fate that would lead to my death.
But, alas, I could not have expected anything else. I was just one of the unlucky, caught in the pits of hell. Stuck with the demons of this earth.
I sort of accepted it, but I always thought, maybe someday, someone would save me? Will I find my hero? Will you send me a hero, God? Will you send someone?
WILL SOMEONE SAVE ME?
ANYONE?
YOU ARE READING
demons; bnha
Fanfiction"People like me don't get to experience happiness for long, but can't I hope for it to stay like this forever? Can't I be selfish?" ... Akari Keiko was born to be a villain. She was trained to kill people with no mercy. She was tortured everyday an...
