I had a dream.

A dream of the past.

I was ten years old, back at the orphanage.

Thwack!

"Urrgghh!"

Thud!

"Get away from us, black boy!"

I winced, clutching my side as the kids from the orphanage stood over me, their faces twisted with hate.

I was being bullied again.

Apparently, my black eyes and hair were signs of bad luck. At least that was the rumor going around.

"It's my turn at the swing set," I said, blood starting to trickle slowly from my nose.

"What if it ends up breaking because of you?" one of the kids snapped back.

I honestly don't know when this discrimination started. As far back as I can remember, it's always been like this.

According to everyone in the orphanage, having just black eyes or just black hair is one thing, but having both is something else entirely.

Although they say it brings bad luck, nothing out of the ordinary has ever happened around me.

Initially, I thought maybe I was the problem but over time I realized everyone within the orphanage was just seriously ill. That included the caretakers as well.

Their prejudice against me was unmatched, even worse than that of the other kids.

It made me wonder why they hadn't kicked me out yet.

I hated thinking about my past; it was deeply depressing, and frankly, I'd rather not dwell on it—not that it would do me any good.

Ptuh! I spat out some blood that had gotten into my mouth.

"Fine!" I said. This wasn't the first time this had happened.

I was used to being alone in the orphanage. The only good thing about the place was the free food.

The food was terrible, but at least it was free.

As I walked through the corridors of the orphanage, I suddenly overheard three female caretakers gossiping.

"Poor thing. He's just bad luck, plain and simple." one of them said.

"Quite sad; someone with that color combination can never make it anywhere," the second added.

"He doesn't realize it's not that we want to hate him—he was just born to be hated," the third chimed in.

Are they talking about me?

"We would have had him out of here, but it would make the orphanage look bad." the second replied.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

It seemed they had been observing what had happened with me and the other children outside.

The orphanage was quite large; I think it was sponsored by the government of Demo City, but I wasn't entirely sure.

Even though the orphanage—Sanctuary of the Holy Shepherd—was government-sponsored, it had been established on a religious basis.

I wasn't too keen on the details, but it seemed the founder was one of the higher-ups in Demo City.

It must have been a money-grabbing scheme. After all, various charities and donations were always being brought to the orphanage, yet the living conditions never seemed to improve.

Besides, no one here believed in God, let alone Mary.

"I was against taking him in, but Sister Catherine wouldn't allow it. Since she was the head matron, I had no say in the matter," the third caretaker stated.

"It was always Sister Catherine and her unnecessary ways; this is exactly why no one liked her," the second caretaker replied.

Sister Catherine? Isn't she dead?

Sister Catherine was the most wonderful person I had ever known. She cared for me and loved me like a mother would—truly the peak of maternal care.

When I got into fights or arguments with the other kids, she always took my side and made sure to hear me out, no matter what.

She never cared what the other caretakers had to say about me. Her attention and love were always directed toward me, and she made sure to protect me from all the hatred I received.

She was also very young, most likely in her late twenties. Living in the orphanage was a blessing thanks to her.

But she died five years ago.

She went out one morning to get some groceries with a few other caretakers.

Only for them to return that evening, panicked and shouting, "S-S-Sister, Sister Catherine!! She—she's…"

It turned out they were caught in the crossfire of a turf war, and she was hit by a stray bullet straight to her heart.

I cried for three days straight when I heard the news.

The only person who gave me hope for humanity had passed away, leaving me to suffer with the same humans who took her life.

My life never remained the same after she died.

"To be honest, I'm glad she's gone. Her running this place how she wanted was very annoying," the first caretaker said.

"You know, I heard from Sister Bernadette that the bullet that killed Sister Catherine was actually fired in her direction," the third caretaker said hushedly.

"Sister Catherine jumped in between the bullet and Sister Bernadette and took the bullet for her instead. A rather ironic story, if I might add." She concluded with a little giggle.

My eyes widened in surprise. I never knew.

"Really?! Such a foolish woman. Dying for someone else is just pure stupidity," the first woman said, letting out a soft laugh.

"Sister Catherine was a fool," the first caretaker said, laughing. "Dying to save Bernadette—what a waste."

"I know, right? Could she be any dumber?" The third caretaker burst into laughter.

"Look where she is now—six feet under. What was she trying to prove anyway? A dead person will forever remain dead."

All three of them doubled over, laughing uncontrollably.

I froze.

Sister Catherine had died to protect someone else?

My body started to shake with fear and sadness. I gritted my teeth in anger and pain.

I was frustrated.

My hand was balled up into a fist, and tears poured down my cheeks. But I couldn't do anything.

I never knew that side of the story. I never knew that's what happened.

Look now, Sister Catherine—these are the humans you tried to save. While you're gone, they're simply laughing at your sacrifice. Was this the faith you had in humanity?

A memory of something Sister Catherine told me while tending to my wounds years ago suddenly flashed through my mind:

"Every wound can heal, just like every heart can find its way back to goodness. Even if it feels lost, it just needs a gentle touch, a guiding hand to show it the light."

That's a lie.

₪₪₪

The dream continued.

I was now twelve years old, still in the orphanage.

"Why did you break his arm?! " a male caretaker shouted at me.

"I didn't break his arm?!" I retorted.

"Then how do you explain this?" The caretaker asked, furious.

A nine-year-old kid had the bones in his arm fractured and mangled. It was a disgusting sight to behold.

A lot of caretakers were already gathering around the kid, about to rush him to a hospital.

"He fell off the swing by himself; how is it my fault he broke his arm?" I shot back angrily.

"Weren't you close to him when he fell?" the caretaker pressed.

"Yeah, so what of it?" I knew what he was about to say.

"Yes! That's exactly why! Why can't you just stay somewhere where no one can see you, you child of misfortune? Black boy!"

Yeah, I knew it; it was always that—"black boy."

The air suddenly felt thick.

The pounding in my chest, the anger, the helplessness—it all swirled together.

I couldn't breathe.

That was the moment I reached my breaking point.

I'd had enough.

"Screw this!" I said in a low voice.

"Huh? Speak up, I can't hear you." the caretaker replied.

All of a sudden, I took off.

"Hey! Get back here, I'm still talking to you?!" He said that with a snicker and didn't even bother to chase after me. For all I knew this was probably what he wanted.

I ran.

I was tired of being called names.

I ran.

I was tired of being discriminated against.

I ran away.

I was tired of suffering.

I ran away.

I was tired of the shame Sister Catherine was facing even after her death.

I ran away.

I was tired of being inside this prison, holding me back and making me feel bad about myself and my life.

Constant torture, constant discrimination, constant sadness. I was tired of it all.

I didn't just run away; I escaped.

It wasn't until later that I discovered no one outside the orphanage discriminated against my black hair and black eyes; it had only happened within those walls.

₪₪₪

==============================

[System initializing…]

[Confirming activation requirements…minimum criteria met]

[Scanning for entity…entity detected]

[Checking entity's compatibility rate…97.4%]

[Entity's compatibility rate has triggered system program: ■.■.■.■.■.]

[Activating system program: Project - ■.■.■.■.■.…]

[Performing system program error check…]

[Error rate: 0.000000000000043%…]

[Implementing fail-safe to mitigate potential error effect…successful]

[Operation ID: 43289681542 registering…registration successful]

[Acquiring entity's details…successful]

[Linking system to Universal Sp■t■al ■■■r■■■■■es…successful]

[Re-confirming activation requirements…maximum criteria met]

[All requirements satisfied. Proceeding with system merge…]

[System merge and amalgamation with entity initiated…]

[Merge successful]

[Configuring system specifications to entity's attributes…successful]

[All processes complete]

[Initiating activation sequence in 5 seconds]

[5…4…3…2…1]

[Activation complete…Welcome, Player Jay]

==============================