Prologue

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                      Why am I different? Why is society like this? This isn't fair.

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"Be perfect. Smile. Pretend." Those were the only words I needed to hear to remain in society, if only it was that easy. You see, I was born different. I wasn't the 'perfect son' my parents wanted. I am what you called defective. My mother got ill a few months before I was born and it ended up damaging the part of my brain or more specifically the speech muscles causing me to be mute.

          On top of that disability, power is everything. Money determines your status. But if you aren't perfect, you aren't accepted into society. People are divided into three tiers: high-tiers, mid-tiers and regulars, if you don't fit in any of the categories you are dejected. If you make three mistakes you are dejected. Sometimes I ask myself if I was born different, would everything be fine? Why couldn't some hero save me from my nightmares and make everything okay? But even if this imaginary hero existed, heroes can't save everyone. 

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