I have been living here for a long time. I have seen many people and listened to their stories. Where am I, you ask?

Well, I guess I should call it a sewer system. One that fell into disuse long ago. It stretches over a pretty wide area underground, with several now empty water tanks and empty dry canals that branch off and lead to other canals, making the system not unlike a huge underground labyrinth. This sewer had been completely abandoned by humanity a long time ago. There is now a newer, better one so this one was just left to be forgotten. It stinks, it's filthy, it's dark and it makes you paranoid about the things lurking around the next corner. To me, it is Paradise.

Yet not everyone forgot. In fact, a lot of people still come here.

I live inside a wide water tank with stone steps leading up to a long corridor, which eventually leads to the surface. Where the corridor meets the stairs, a balcony silently oversees the darkness of the tank. This is where they come to shout.

They shout a lot since no one will hear them down here. They talk about everything that’s on their mind, weighing them down. 

A businessman keeps on coming every week. His company just won’t do well and he continuously complains about his colleagues’ incompetence.

A housewife comes once in a while, complaining about how her children are spoiled and why can’t her husband just put his foot down even once?

Many people come to shout out their frustrations into the void of the empty water tank. There is no one to judge them here, yet the echo kind of feels like an acknowledgment, I suppose. When they are done complaining they get up and then…

They leave.

Just like that the tank is empty again. They had left nothing behind but a deep silence. Some never return, some visit regularly, and some…

The sound of quiet footsteps approaching rip me out of my thoughts.

So, today, another one came.

She seems to be a high school student. I recognize her. I don’t know her name nor do I care for it. She came here a lot lately. Her family is poor, so they had put all their hopes onto her. Since education had recently become more accessible to even the lower class, she is under a lot of pressure. She has to be among the best to get a scholarship and earn a chance at a good future, to earn a lot and support the family.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

I lie down in the shadows, listening to her talk like every time she comes down here. People become afraid if I approach too close, so I silently watch from a distance.

Today the girl is crying again. Last time she came she had decided to secretly join a band and start doing what she had always wanted. Music. That’s why I had thought she would stop coming. They usually do when they achieve something. At least for a while.

But alas, she had come again. Her family had found out about her secret and broke her guitar. They had prohibited her from doing it again, even punished her severely.

She can’t seem to stop her tears, shouting questions at the walls that she knows no one will answer.

Questions like why won’t they let me do what I enjoy? Why do I always have to be the one studying at home when everyone is out having fun? Why can’t I ever take a break? Why do I have to be different? Why…?

It takes a while for her to get tired. When her voice is horse and scratchy, she finally stops shouting.

Getting up, she slowly walks to the edge of the water tank. She can’t take it anymore. She wipes away her tears one last time, then, finally making an easy choice, she takes that one last step and falls, smiling.

I watch calmly from my place in the shadows as she plunges, before getting up and heading to spot she had just vacated. I look down. There she is, motionless, blood slowly spreading beneath her body.

Some never return, some visit regularly, and some… some never leave. Just like her.

Disinterested, I turn around and leave, my hunger driving me to hunt.

My paws hit the floor quietly and I creep around in search for prey to be my next meal.

As I stroll through an empty corridor, I notice something small moving in the shadows. Readying myself, I let out a loud cry, causing the mouse to freeze up for just enough time for my paws to reach it, pinning down the terrified creature. My whiskers twitch as I scent it for any indication of disease or other substances harmful to my person. Satisfied, I open my mouth, reach down for its neck, and plunge my fangs into the temptingly pulsing flesh.

No matter who comes down to visit my abode, I will continue this daily struggle. I guess you could say my life was easy compared to the shouters…

When I get hungry, I hunt and eat.

When I get tired, I sleep

When I am bored, I explore the sewer. Sometimes I take a peek at the surface world, to make sure the world is still turning.

If I like someone, I tell them and if I get rejected, I leave.

You could say my life was too simple. But I like and keep it that way.

It works fine for me.

What about you?