My name is Jassho I was seven when my world shattered. Looking back, it feels like a different lifetime — a time when everything made sense, and my small corner of the world was warm and safe. My parents, Anir and Leira, weren't wealthy, but we had everything we needed. They worked hard at their jobs in the city, a tech firm in downtown Zethron, yet they always made time for me.
Zethron was a city of towering skyscrapers and endless possibilities. A place where you could lose yourself in the crowds, where the air buzzed with the hum of hover cars and drones zipping between buildings. But for me, the city was more than just a collection of steel and glass; it was home. It was the place where my father taught me how to build little robots from spare parts, and where my mother filled my nights with stories of brave heroes and far-off lands.
Those were good days. Simple, but good.
It was a rainy evening when it happened. The kind of rain that fell in thick sheets, blurring the world outside the car windows. I was in the back seat, clutching a small toy my father had given me. It was a miniature robot, one we had built together earlier that day. I remember watching the raindrops race down the glass, my parents' voices filling the car as they spoke about nothing in particular.
"Think we'll make it home before the storm gets worse?" my mother asked, her voice soft but filled with that playful tone she always had when speaking to my father.
"I'm sure we will," my father replied, glancing at her with a smile. "Just a bit of rain. No big deal."
I smiled to myself, feeling safe in their presence. We were a team, the three of us, and nothing could break that.
But I was wrong.
The sudden screech of tires jolted me from my thoughts. The car skidded on the wet road, spinning out of control. I heard my mother scream, felt the violent jerk as the car slammed into something hard. Glass shattered. Metal crunched. Everything went dark.
---
The world came back slowly, like waking from a terrible dream, except this nightmare was real. I was in a hospital bed, bruised but alive. My parents... weren't.
I don't remember crying. I think I was too shocked to process it. They told me it was an accident, a collision with another car that had hydroplaned. It all happened so fast, they said. Too fast for anyone to react.
At seven years old, I became an orphan.
The days after that blurred together. There was the funeral, the endless stream of strangers offering their condolences, and the cold reality that I had no family left to take me in. I was sent to a state-run orphanage, a place that was supposed to be my new home. But it wasn't home. It never would be.
---
Jashsoo sat alone in the orphanage's small, dimly lit room. The walls were gray, and the air smelled faintly of mildew. His bed was just a thin mattress on a metal frame, tucked into a corner next to a cracked window. Outside, the city lights of Zethron flickered in the distance, far beyond the orphanage's crumbling walls.
"Dinner's ready," a voice called from the hallway.
Jashsoo didn't respond. He wasn't hungry. He wasn't anything. Just... numb.
The orphanage wasn't the worst place in the world, but it was nothing like the home he once knew. The other kids didn't bother with him much. Everyone had their own stories, their own tragedies. There was no room for friendships here. It was just survival. Meals were bland, beds were uncomfortable, and the caretakers barely had enough energy to keep track of all the children, let alone offer comfort.
Jashsoo stared out the window, his mind drifting back to his parents. He could still hear his mother's laugh, still feel his father's hand ruffle his hair. But those memories were like ghosts now, haunting him in moments of silence.
---
I don't remember when I stopped feeling sad and started feeling angry. Angry at the world, at the city, at myself. I ran away when I was ten. I couldn't take it anymore. The orphanage, the emptiness, the constant reminder that I was alone. So, I left.
It wasn't a grand escape. I didn't have a plan or any real idea of where I was going. I just walked out one night, slipping through the gates and into the vast streets of Zethron. The city that had once been my playground now felt like a jungle, and I was just another lost soul trying to survive.
---
From the outside, Zethron was a city of progress. Towering buildings gleamed in the sunlight, while the newest tech gadgets flooded the markets. But Jashsoo knew better. He knew the darker side of the city — the alleys where the homeless gathered, the underpasses where kids like him found shelter, and the cold indifference of people who walked by without a second glance.
For seven years, Jashsoo lived on the streets. He learned how to survive the hard way, by digging through trash for scraps of food and finding hidden corners to sleep where no one would bother him. The city was unforgiving, especially for someone as young as him. Every day was a fight to stay alive.
"I can make it," he would whisper to himself some nights, curled up in the shadow of a building, the cold biting through his thin clothes. "I can make it."
But deep down, he wasn't so sure. He was just a boy in a city that didn't care if he lived or died. And the loneliness... that was the worst part.
---
"Another day," I murmured, watching the sun set over the city's skyline. The colors of the sky were beautiful, casting long shadows over the buildings, but I couldn't enjoy it. Not really. Not anymore.
I wasn't sure how much longer I could do this. The hunger was bad enough, but the endless nights, the isolation, the weight of it all... it was crushing me. Sometimes I would find myself wondering why I even bothered. What was the point?
But then, I'd hear my mother's voice in my head, soft and full of hope. "Heroes rise from nothing, Jashsoo. Even when the world feels like it's against them, they keep going."
Was that what I was? A hero in the making? It seemed impossible. I was no hero. I was just a kid trying to survive in a city that had forgotten about me.
But maybe, just maybe, there was more to my story.
---
The city of Zethron buzzed with life as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its final glow over the sprawling metropolis. Among the throngs of people and the towering skyscrapers, Jashsoo remained a shadow, moving through the streets unnoticed. The boy who had once known love and laughter was now little more than a whisper in the chaos of the city.
But he was still here. Still fighting.
And though he didn't know it yet, his story was far from over.