'It takes approximately 7 hours for paint to dry, so this one should be dry once the work of today I over,' I thought, as I finished up painting the wall white with a large paint brush.

'Only a 7 others walls to go,' I thought and took the platform with me and brought it in front of the wall I was going to paint next.

Painting wasn't fun, but it wasn't tiresome, either. It was actually rather peaceful.

I ignored the sound of the other workers and Eddie making loud sounds from moving and hitting things with tools, and focused on the wall before me.

I dipped the paint into the paint can, and I wiped it on the edge of the can to get the extra paint off. Then I painted the wall with straight downward strokes, and when the brush didn't paint anymore, I repeated the process. Again and again and again. But for some reason, it wasn't so bad.

***

After the work of the day was over, I found myself sitting in the bar with Eddie.

The bar was full of people, and the atmosphere was chaotic.

Still, even in the midst of all that chaos, the people there seemed to be having the time of their lives.

To me, their behavior seemed almost alien.

I knew why they felt that way. I knew the reason for their happiness, but I could not understand.

I took a sip of the beer Eddie had hypocritically ordered me against my will and wallowed in my seat, seeming to sink into my own thoughts in the middle of all the yelling and emotions I could not fully comprehend.

Then the noise in the bar doubled, as an argument started between two unknown parties. It was even worse, since the arguers were right beside me, so I decided it was best to leave.

I grabbed my beer and turned to my left before standing up, and just when I was about to leave somewhere, one of the two parties rammed into me.

It seemed he had been in a hurry since he hit me with enough force to make my beer spill everywhere in a radius of a few meters.

'Ah, great,' I thought as I peered up at the large man who had spilled my beer. 'Guess I should just apologize and move on.'

"Oh, I'm sor—" Before I was able to finish my sentence, there was a fist rapidly approaching the left side of my face.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eddie running at me with a shocked expression and his arm stretched out, as if he were trying to grab the man's hand, but he was a few meters too far away to do it.

The man's fist then hit me, delivering an impact that traveled through my face, and I fell backwards and hit the back of my head on the wooden counter, managing to break it in the process of falling to the ground.

"Shit," Eddie said as he rushed to my aid.

I acted hazed as I watched the situation unfold.

The bearded bartender was yelling at the man, while Eddie slapped my face, worried that I was dead. Then everybody else just watched, and slightly after, most went back to talking like nothing had happened.

I finally "woke up" after a few too many slaps from Eddie.

"Ahhh," I faked a pained groan and tried to stand up, but Eddie stopped me.

"Hey, relax. You got the shit smacked out of you. I'm surprised you aren't dead."

"You, get out of my bar!" the bartender yelled.

"You're talking to me?" The man who hit me acted appalled. "It is him who you should kick out, spilling drinks on all your customers," the man sneered.

"What the hell? I didn't do anything wrong," I said from the ground.

The punch had hurt more than I had imagined, and this was all for nothing, so I was starting to feel irritated.

"Hah, you're the victim, eh? How can a person such as you even call yourself a man?" the man asked, looking down on me.

"Tch, maybe you should try not being such a clumsy fat ass. I'm sure you'll get fewer drinks spilled on you that way," I mocked him as I stood up.

"What did you say?" The man said and approached me.

I stayed quiet, simply looking him in the eye in response. Eddie was trying his best to keep us separate.

"Oh, of course, a dumbass like you won't understand the first time."

"Hah, look at you, unable to do nothing but use words. Look at me! I'm unharmed!" the man yelled with his hands raised.

I gnashed my teeth as I was filled with emotion, and then, I exploded forward, pushing Eddie out of the way before letting my left fist fly forward too fast for anyone to see.

The man with his hands raised was hit on the right side of his face and fell backward. He fell to the ground, completely discombobulated, but it wasn't enough.

'Unharmed!?' I thought in utter rage as I mounted the man and pummeled his face in.

"—ir! Akir! Akir stop!!" Eddie yelled as he pulled me off the man, and I let him, as I started to realize my actions.

"Both of you, out! Now!" the bartender yelled with his face red and his index finger pointed at the door.

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Then the sound of yelling faded as the door closed, and we were left outside. I pushed Eddie off me and, dusted off my clothes.

"What the hell was that?" Eddie asked with a confused expression and approached me.

"What? I just got a little angry," I said monotonously after finishing dusting off my clothes and started to walk away.

"What do you mean, a little angry? You looked like the guy had killed your family." Eddie caught up to me and practically yelled in my ear.

"Hah, if he had done that, I would've thanked him," I said with a laugh.

"What? You serious about that? Hey, I don't know what your relationship with your parents is like, but you shouldn't talk about them like that," Eddie commented on my behavior, and I stopped in my tracks and turned to him.

"When did you become someone to give me advice on my behavior? You said you know nothing about my relationship with my parents, and you're right, so why are you telling me what I should and shouldn't do?" I asked with clear anger in my voice. "You think I should be grateful to them just because they gave me life? Well, guess what? My life is a pile of shit that was shoved in my face, and I was forced to eat, and you think I should be grateful just because I was given something to eat? Why should I be grateful when I would rather have just starved?" I asked, but got no answer from Eddie, who had backed away from me.

After a while of us staring at each other silently, I turned and started walking away.

"Hey, wait, we have to cover this up. The agents can't get to know about this," Eddie yelled, but I just kept walking. "Ahh, come on," Eddie whined and started running to catch up to me.

When he reached me, he grabbed me by my left shoulder, but I didn't turn to look at him.

"Hey, you're right, I'm sorry for saying that stuff about family and all. Let's not end this here. You're a good guy, and you're an even better worker, so... just come back to my place once you clear your head." Eddie said.

"Yeah, sure," I responded and started walking away again.

***

I was lying on my back on a flat rooftop made out of stone, looking at the clouds that moved in the darkening sky. I couldn't help but wonder if they were real, or if any of this was real. If it was all fake and these people were some kind of illusion, then surely there was someone currently laughing at me. Me—the ruthless killer that's been reduced to this mess of emotions. Me—the child who nobody wanted and was sent to some place where all disappointments were.

'Why did it all go like this? Why couldn't I just have a normal life?' I projected my thoughts into the void of unresolved things that were bound to stay that way.

'Why did a rich man want to just torture people? Wasn't I his legacy? Aren't people supposed to love their children? Did my mother really want to sell me, or could she not afford to provide for me? Did she think my father would take care of me? Did she actually love me? Did she wish the best for me?

Does that really even matter anymore? Even if she did care about me, she would probably vomit at the sight of me now.'

'Whatever, I should just focus on what happens in this place, since it's pointless to think about earth anymore. There is and was nothing for me there to begin with, and any signs of my existence have probably completely vanished at this point.'

'My disappearance was maybe made into a big deal by the university, but no one really cared.'

'Then there was my father, who never cared about me in the first place. To him, I was nothing but a project. What even was it? Oh, right, it was something about creating the most intelligent human to have ever lived. What was that all about, anyway? What did he really want? Surely, he didn't want to take pride in having the most intelligent person alive be his son. I bet it was to compete with someone else. Maybe someone he felt inferior to had a child, and he wanted to feel superior to him by having a better one. Or maybe he wanted to build me up and break me down to show that even a genius that was nurtured from birth could not match him. Whatever. I never got to know the guy, so how could I know what he was trying to achieve? Still, to use his own son to do it. Despicable. Even I wouldn't go as far as to create an innocent child and ruin its life just to prove a point. He's the worst. The absolute worst human ever,' I thought with a mix of negative emotions running through me.

I sighed and then rose up into a sitting position.

'My face feels fine already.' I thought as I touched my left cheek to see what condition it was in.

'Well, a punch like that has to leave a mark.' I concluded after thinking back to the man's punch.

I balled up my left hand into a fist and then hit myself. Then I repeated the action with a straight face. Again and again, until the damage I had taken was equivalent to what that punch would have caused to a normal human.