Yeah sorry, I kinda deleted my old story...starting from scratch or something. >.> Sorryyy again

" " - Speech

* *- action

- - : Thoughts

Blinking multiple times, I finally fully opened my glaringly green eyes.

For some reason, listening to the speech patterns of birds always irritated me.

To me It always seemed as if those trash-like birds outside my window were screaming everyday.

Sighing inwardly, I cursed them.

As a light sleeper, even the slightest noise awakens me.

As a result, I wake up to the seemingly same birds every morning…

If only I had a firearm...

Silence! How I long for silence!

Glancing at the clock I realized that there was still around ten minutes before the shorthand hits three o’ clock.

Stretching my arms out, I loudly cracked my neck. Years of actions eventually turn into a habit, I guess.

During this time period, the sun should have at least started rising a bit and every room should have a hint of sunlight streaming into their windows indicating the start of a new day.

However, in my room, there is just darkness. Thanks to my fairly large dark drapes that covered the obscenely large windows, my room remained pretty much dark all the time. Occasionally, light does stream through, but no matter. It is still relatively dark in my room.

Weirdly enough, although my room was devoid of any light, I could navigate through the darkness fairly well. Minus the lighting problem, my room was a rather ordinary one. A decent sized closet, a nightstand, an oak desk, as well as a bathroom.

I have long been able to look through and find anything without turning on any form of light at all…. Well except for reading and other activities, I barely need touched the light switch but mother always goes on and on about the drapes.

“Light is not supposed to be covered!” or something or other.

Although I covered them, they’re not unpleasant to look at: the glass I mean. Sorry house designer, I completely disregarded what you designed the window for and covered them up with purple drapes. The lack of light soothes me, and there is the fact that I do not want to look at the dedicated shut-in like gamer right across the door from me, but that is a different matter altogether.

Sighing out, I slowly walked over to my bathroom, expertly dodging the random strewed books scattered here and there in the meanwhile.

I turned on the faucet and let the water run.  

Looking up at the mirror that was positioned above the sink, I saw what any individual would see in the mirror: themselves.

What a weird skill right? Having somewhat of an easy time seeing in the darkness?

Laughing to myself, I could not help but notice that my own image was laughing back at me in the mirror.

What can I say? it is me.

Despite the certainty the doctors had when they stated their diagnosis saying and spouting out their nonsensical ‘nonsense’.

“This young man will probabl-ABSOLUTELY develop sooner or later,” They said.

Liars! The bunch of sickos they were.

I looked exactly the same way as I did when I received the diagnosis except now that I am in my fifteenth year instead of being in my twelfth year of middle school.

I look the same exact damn way.

After my eighth birthday, I did not age at all. I am but I am not: a kid look-a-like.

There were always inconveniences associated with having this kid like body. Annoying situations such as:

“Hey kid, why are you still wandering around? Where’s your mother?”

“...I’m a high schooler.”

“Yeah...right. If you’re a high schooler: I, Aiko Takamura, will change my name and you can call me Obama.”

“....”

“Please kindly follow me to the station.”

These type of situations always occurred. Despite being a sophmore in highschool, I still get treated as if I am a damn kid.

I scowled.

Sharp green eyes, curly yet unruly blonde hair, a face that screamed of innocence and a childish body.

All I ever wanted was to be like any other teenager. Lengthy jeans, a snug t-shirt and a good pair of sneakers and not some disgusting clothing from the child section.

With clothes that emphasized growing maturity, I should be enjoying a rather carefree life whilst hanging around with my friends. Nope. I should be, however, I am not. I am not proud to admit this, but here goes nothing: I am a social ‘outcast’. Excluded from any type of communication from my peers.

Unknowingly, my face darkened.

It’s all because of them. The ones who started it all. The ones who I belie-no, the ones who I KNOW caused me to sink into this swamp like cyst of isolation.

Who are they, you ask?

The three narcissists. Perhaps it is because their mothers did not love them enough, that they resort to malice and other forms of evil intentions.

But they are the reason why I wake up with huge purpling bruises everyday, but I have long since gotten used to the pain by now.

After all, It has been more than a couple of years already.

Years of what, you ask?

Years of: Pain, torture and my thoughts of vengeance.

Right then and there: Right in front of the entrance of the school and right before I enter the building for classes, every day I was beaten and everyday I swore to myself that I would get my revenge on all those who hurt me.

No matter what I had to do I swore that they will  receive much more than what they generously dished out. No matter what they did or how they did it. Revenge. I will obtain it.

But you see, it was not the beatings that hurt… It was the mental attacks that I faced and those were the ones that hurt the most.

“I don’t want to be hit.”

With thoughts such as these all the ‘friends’ that I thought I had gradually disappeared and in its stead was nothingness. If I were to put it into words, it seemed as if there was a boundary separating me and everybody else. A boundary of at least a couple of hundred of miles. They are close, yet they are far. Those that I thought I knew, silently turned their heads, ignored the perils that I faced.

“I do not know what you are talking about. Please, stop talking to me, the lesson is about to start.”

Giving excuses, and then stoically turning their heads forwards. Even the teachers ignored everything that they did.

Punching the mirror lightly at my mirrored pitiful self, I continued almost mechanically.

Showering, brushing my teeth, washing my face and I getting dressed. Pulling on my sweat pants and grabbing a simple T-shirt as well as a hoodie, I quickly got dressed.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Opening the door, I finally left my room.

The soft sounds of my foot hitting the polished floors echoed a little as I walked down the three different staircases that will eventually lead to my kitchen. Having a short stature meant that my footsteps were light. That was one of the small benefits that I had at least.

Glancing down the hallway of the second floor and seeing the master bedroom shut, I realized that I was the first one awake in the house as usual. Seeing as it was three in the morning, everyone else in the neighborhood should still be sleeping.

Of course there were a few exceptions, such as the shut in next-door that was still playing his video game.

But being the first one to wake up in my own home always had its own benefits. The comforting sound of silence was always pleasant to listen to.

Reaching the kitchen, I pulled open the fridge with effort.

I hated moments like this. Whereas my peers could just open the fridge, I have to exert just a little bit more effort and strength to do the same action. Well everyone had to exert some effort right? Except I had to exert just a little bit more then usual. Just like a damn kid.

Which irritated me to no extent because through my own actions, I was reminded of my own condition almost daily.

In the fridge, there was already a meal prepared by my mother. Although there were always housemaids present, my mom always took the time to prepare breakfast herself.

Taking out the meal, I couldn’t help but smile.

Breakfast consisted of Miso soup, rice, sunny side up eggs, sausages, grilled salmon and torn lettuce with tomatoes.

I cannot even imagine the effort that she put into making this, especially when she came home late every day and had to leave almost immediately after I went to school. I loved my parents. Because they did everything for me, I decided I would do everything in my power for them.

Thus despite the pain I went through, I persisted. I had to. For my parents. If I lost myself to pain, I cannot imagine the hurt that they would be in.

Noticing the note stuck on top of the breakfast, I read it silently.

Tendris dear!

I put a bunch of effort this time!!

Enjoy!

Remember to put the dishes in the sink when you’re done!

I can almost imagine her voice as I read the note. Sweet, melodious and overflowing with love, it was a nice voice.

Smiling to myself, I took off the note before putting everything inside the microwave.

Setting the timer for a couple of minutes, I put the stuck the note on the fridge with a magnet.

After taking the meal out of the microwave and setting everything up on the table, I grabbed my pair of chopsticks from the utensils drawer.

“Itadakimasu. I will enjoy this meal!” I said lightly to no one in particular.

Grabbing the magazine that was delivered to the kitchen table every morning, and propping the magazine up, I quickly skimmed through the contents while enjoying my breakfast.

Virtual Reality: A NEW ROAD

AN INCREDIBLE JOURNEY

EXPERIENCE A  COMPLETELY NEW LIFE

The first real VRMMORPG. A completely new innovative piece of technology that will shake the world! In addition many news channels, radio stations as well as social media chaotically headlined the new phenomenon that hit the Asian market.

Well at least that’s what this article is saying.

I scoffed.

Skimming through the rest of the magazine with visibly less enthusiasm, I quickly went from cover to cover. I did not really care much for games and the like but much to my chagrin that is exactly what the magazine focused its topic on.

The newly released game called New Life is exactly what it sounds like. A New Life online lets the user experience an entirely different world filled with magic and mystery.

In addition to adventuring, one can do almost everything that they wanted inside the game world! Including cooking and learning!

What a load of horseshit.

Games are not worth spending any time on. They’re a waste of time, rather then playing games I would much rather be reading a good book and lounging on my bed.

“Gochisosama! *I really enjoyed the food*” I said again to no one.

Glancing at my watch, and realizing that there was still plenty of time before school starts, I scarfed down the rest of the soup, slung my backpack over one shoulder and left the house.

***

It wasn’t as if Tendris was always—well to put it simply—a brat.

Even the most loving person would turn absolutely crazed if the same condescending group of people harassed you for 8 long years. What is even worse is when the bullying never stopped.

Is there anything even more deplorable? Yes, when no one even bothered to help.

Even the people who Tendris thought were his friends, completely disappeared. When confronted, they firmly rejected knowing him.

Hell.

It would not be surprising if the boy lashed out at everyone; it would not even be surprising if he stopped showing up to school one day and started becoming a shut in, not unlike his neighbor.

But he did not, because his parents would be hurt. Thus he put up with the pain and lived on.

By now, people should recognize that our protagonist here is pretty well off. He’s from a rather influential family and to top it off he also saved up quite a bit by investing here and there in random stocks. Quite a bit, which meant he saved up around a couple hundred million yen (~millions of USD).

Even without doing that, his parents would have purchased him anything; simply put Tendris was pretty much set for life.

Despite that, Tendris still considers going to school and having other interests a priority. Even with the bullying and tormenting, he puts up with it because it would cause his parents grief if they ever found out.

Tendris hated them though, the bullies that is. I hope that much is evident.

He hated the people who tormented him with a passion, but he abhorred those who just watched silently.

The people who took no action were just as guilty as the tormentors.

Thus, Tendris I believe, should not be considered a brat, but rather he should be considered an individual who could not put up with the world any longer. An individual who loves his parents and hated mostly everyone that he knew.

This is his journey. His journey of self-discovery and growth.

And his journey starts.

Now.