I don't know when I was born, I don't know who my parents are, the only thing I do know is that I ain't normal. I don't remember much of my early years, I was just in a loop of surviving with other people I thought were like me, but then I learn that I don't starve, get thirsty, hurt or anything that happens to them, I think at that time I was scared by this knowledge and I guess I was right to be scared as they descended upon me with fear and hatred, beating at me until I stopped moving, not because they ended me but because that's the only thing I thought to do, they threw me into a deep pit, a ravine, I laid there a long time, crying, confused ... scared. Eventually though time washed away those feelings and I got up and climbed up, I felled a few times, in ways which would kill a person in more than one ways, crunches, snaps, splats, but I always got back up and my body fixed itself. With time I got out of that ravine and with what I learned like everything else later I was experiencing hatred, no, more like a sadder hatred, it was a pit within itself but in my chest and with that pit in my chest I moved myself after the tracks of the tribe that threw me away. I caught up after them quickly as I never stopped running, and the faces of them when they saw me made my hatred burn and fuel my actions of hitting them in a mind numbing rage. When I calmed down all that was lifted of them was bloody pulps of their former self and looking at the blood on myself I was feeling ... disgusted, one of many times in this endless journey. I eventually got up and left the campsite, leaving what was left of my beginning to decay back to the earth that birthed me. That's how my story began and is the most regrettable for me as like many men and women who have their minds torture them with questions that cannot be answered, I know now that I'll never know how I became or become like this, or who brought me into this world.