"Useless trash, you disgrace our family name!"
"Get out of my sight!"
"Heh, as expected from you, big bro. If Father had only listened to me, this humiliation could've been avoided. Congratulations—you've dragged our family's honor straight into the mud."
"You're not even worthy to eat at the same table as us."
"You are the shame of this family."
"Don't waste our time, you talentless fool."
"Even an average child is better than you."
"The dog in the yard is worth more than the likes of you."
"It disgusts me that a mistake like you was born into this family."
"You're not my son."
"And you're certainly not my child."
"Disgusting."
"Pathetic pig."
"Ugly wretch."
"Worthless."
"Hopeless."
"Why don't you just die already?"
"Who are you, even? Oh, right. You're the family's biggest regret."
"Still alive, are you?"
"Good punching bag, though, I'll give you that much, big brother."
"I, Edward G. Zedek, head of the Zedek family, hereby disown Wilhelm G. Zedek as my son."
"Haha! That waist got thrown out."
"Did you hear? That waste of space got disowned."
"Hey, take this. You're as good a punching bag as the rumors say."
Under the gentle glow of the moonlight and the scattered brilliance of the stars, on the rooftop of a towering skyscraper, stood a boy drowning in sorrow. His round face, framed by disheveled black hair, seemed heavier than his plump, trembling frame. He wore a simple white shirt, black pants, and worn shoes, as though even his clothes mirrored his bleak existence.
The boy took a deep breath before letting out a laugh brimming with pain. His trembling hands covered his tear-streaked face, but his black eyes still glimmered with sorrow as tears streamed down like rivers.
"Hahaha… I had nothing from the moment I was born," he muttered, his voice cracking. "My mother died giving birth to me. My father was cold, distant, like a glacier. My stepmothers saw me as nothing but a pest, and my siblings… they only ever looked down on me, reminding me just how weak I am."
"My life has been nothing but suffering and humiliation. Why was I even born in the first place? I… I'd rather end it all here. Mother… forgive me."
Wilhelm, the boy, stepped closer to the edge of the rooftop. He closed his eyes, standing at the precipice.
"Just one step," he whispered, "and everything ends."
Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes blurred into an hour. Yet, Wilhelm remained frozen, unable to take that final step.
Defeated, he sank to his knees and let out a bitter laugh. "They're right. I really am a coward. I don't even have the courage to escape this torment."
Tears flowed freely once more, carving trails down his anguished face as he wept in silence. He sought solace in his tears, but they had long since run dry.
After what felt like hours, Wilhelm finally stood and trudged away from the rooftop, his steps heavy and his heart heavier still. He made his way through the city—a bustling, vibrant maze of towering skyscrapers, sleek magical cars gliding effortlessly along the roads, and glowing holographic displays flickering on every corner. Magic pulsed in the air, yet Wilhelm moved through it like a shadow, his presence unnoticed and unacknowledged.
The crowded streets hummed with life, but Wilhelm's face remained void of emotion, save for the lingering sadness etched into his features. His eyes, lifeless and empty, focused only on the path ahead, ignoring the world around him.
Hours later, he arrived at his small, dingy apartment. The walls seemed to close in around him as he collapsed onto his bed. Staring at the cracked ceiling, he muttered softly to himself, "Another painful day over… until the next begins."
His vacant eyes lingered on the ceiling, his mind weighed down by despair, until his eyelids grew heavy. Slowly, his consciousness drifted into a restless slumber.