Humiliation is a feeling of shame, humiliation is a feeling that causes indignance. Humiliation causes indignation, and indignation justifies atrocities. This is the story of a pathetic man whose inadequate abilities in both social skills and studying create the base of an interestingly despicable play.
"In mere minutes, I will be shot," this is the thought that went through the head of a sallow faced man as he slouched back on a chair. "Why do we try, why do we try, why do we try?" Incessantly asking a question, this man seemed to understand that he was pathetic. He understood his uselessness, his inability to do anything, that is why he asks, "why do we try?"
10 days prior, the day was sunny and bustling school grounds could be made out, as well as a proud looking figure walking on his way to school. With light brown hair and a straight as a board back, he walked along the asphalt road with other students near him chatting, though not with him, all giving side eyed looks when their eyes passed along his figure before lowering their voices to a whisper when talking amongst their friends. He appeared entirely alone in this sea of people, yet he still appeared respectable. Sighing, the lonely figure merely walked faster. He knew of many things, including his unfixable reputation. He had only himself to blame in the end..
A year ago, while in his first year of high school, he had tried his best to make friends. For years before, in middle school, elementary school, and even preschool he was entirely isolated due to depression. This lack of friendship then made it so he had a lack of social skills then in high school as well, his desperate attempts to make friends then scared people away. He followed what he was told from popular influencers he saw on a second hand phone and charger he had bought for himself from a pawn shop as his only gift for Christmas, the various influencers he saw barely being made out with the multiple cracks running along the screen's surface. "Have a straight back and look confident, eat healthy and try to be fit to look respectable so that you can find a friend and leave a good impression," was the information he gleaned from those people. Thinking logically, he could only do those things alone (due to a lack of anyone caring enough to join him) and so he focused on them alone. He needed no encouragement to accomplish these things other than his intense desire for company of any sort, company he could not gain from even his family as his parents had left him to a cruel orphanage many years ago, one whose members merely fed him, gave him small amounts of money as an allowance, and then ignored him. His fellow orphans had long been adopted when they were younger, that trend continuing that way for many years after, leaving him as the oldest with the second oldest always being adopted within a few months of attaining the title of, "second oldest" within the orphanage. Often enough he would wonder to himself while sitting on the side of a road or on a park bench, "why was I unfortunate enough to be left without anyone to adopt me for so long? I suppose they're not obligated to adopt me, but even so..." Or the classic, "why did my parents leave me here?" Without need for elaboration, that second question was always asked with a frigid despondency, his hung head laced with sadness for all to see during the few minutes that he did think of the possible answers to such questions. He never did ask himself that second question when in the hot sun, it was only ever in his bed late at night when he heard strange noises, or when he snuck to the front of his old orphanage's courtyard to sit on a curbside while cars sped along. His only consolation was his goals, and with thoughts of the cold orphanage and of the friends he would have once he accomplished those goals. Those goals were regarding better posture, having a healthier diet, and exercising at the recommended levels. The posture attempts that he employed varied from going from having a straight back when sitting down to sleeping in the soldier position. This effort was what he began with, but then he tried to eat better. The food served by the orphanage were mere scraps of the kitchen for the staff, chips, hot dogs, soda, beans, some good but usually of crappy quality. Often sitting in his cramped and tiny room, the only thing other than his new phone that he could even tentatively call his own, he wondered how he would find healthy food to eat, especially consistently. All the fresh food from farms were often far more expensive than what he could even dream of buying with his measly allowance. Often he would grasp his head or slam his fists on his knees in frustration during this time due to all the problems he faced in simply accomplishing the goal of eating healthy food. Eventually he found a flyer on a bus stop as he was walking to school, "looking for laborers, pay is $12 an hour for adults, $3 an hour for student laborers." This was the boon he was looking for. Weeks after applying, he eventually got the job as a laborer. It was difficult and back-breaking work, but he managed to do all the odd work that they had him do. From washing the produce to helping spread fertilizer on the various fields as well as acquiring the misshapen vegetables that no grocery store would buy, food that he could use to eat healthily. All in all he accomplished all those things regularly before the first year of high school during the summer, he went from an unfit and smudge looking person to someone who appeared, at best, average but with good posture, his fat hiding bulging muscles from when he was working on the farm. He really did try during that summer, but years of bad eating habits, unhealthy food, and lack of exercise had caused such a barrier that it would take much longer than just a summer to accomplish his goal. Still satisfied nonetheless, he set about the actual process of finding people to be his friend. The first day was always the best day for making friends, "it's important to leave a good first impression." With these thoughts firmly in mind, he went to school.