In the dark night of heavy rain, the sound of sirens and shouting echoed in my ears. My vision was hazy, my body felt cold, and I was lying on the ground, covered in blood. I heard people shouting at me to stay awake. I couldn't remember how I ended up in this situation.

I was on my way from school to my home. I was in a hurry, running, when a sudden earthquake hit and—

oh right, a billboard fell on me…

"Hang in there, buddy!" someone yelled, their voice a distant echo.

Hang in there? What a joke. Like I had a choice in the matter.

"Hahaha..."

"What a dumb way to die. I didn't think I would die like this," I thought.

If I look back at my life until now, it was pretty ordinary—nothing flashy or anything to show off about. I came from a normal family of three: me, my father, and my mother. We were a happy family, but only until my father's sudden death. He died in a car accident when he was returning from work. His car was hit by a truck. The officers said the truck driver might have been asleep or drunk, but they couldn't be sure because the driver also died in accident.

It was a huge shock for me; I was only 12 years old after all. On that day, my life turned upside down. I had insisted that my father come home early so we could visit the game store to buy a new game that had just come out.

Maybe if I hadn't told him to come early, he would still be alive…?

After my father's death, my mother had to start working to make a living for us. We also got the insurance money after my father's death. It wasn't a huge amount, but it was enough to live without worry for 2 to 3 years. My mother kept it reserved for emergencies. We were living a decent life. Two years passed just like that, and I turned 14.

I stopped talking and interacting with others at school and in our neighborhood. Mom had to work, so we didn't get much time to talk. Sometimes, we didn't talk for days because she had to leave early for work. I shut myself off from the outside world, blaming myself for my father's death. Looking back, I realize it was a foolish thing to do. My mother probably knew I blamed myself, which is why she always said, "If you stay like this, your father will be upset," but I didn't listen.

During this time, I developed an interest in programming. Why, you ask..? Simply because while I was home alone, I played many games—a lot of them. I asked my mother to buy games for me, whether it was for PlayStation, Xbox, or any other console.

(A/N: Damn! I am jealous of Him!!!. Well, rich kids are different. [➖ ̭ ➖ ] )

She always bought them for me, maybe because she felt guilty for not spending time with me…?

Anyway, I played and played until I got bored. No game could excite me or remove my boredom anymore. I was fifteen by now.

Then, as I was surfing the internet in search of new games, I discovered a site that said I could build my own game. It intrigued me, so I clicked on it and discovered my new interest. With my newfound interest, time passed quickly. I learned many things and many programming languages. Maybe I actually became a nerd?

Well… By the time I was ready for high school, I was deeply into my new passion. Seeing this, my mother felt happy that I was learning something meaningful and not just playing games. (Well, I was earning some money too… Thinking a boy in his teens earns hundreds of dollars sounds cool, doesn't it?)

But there was a problem. Due to sitting on a chair all the time and not doing any physical exercise, I gained weight. I didn't become extremely overweight, but I was out of shape. I started attending high school with the same fatty body, which was famous for its good academic results and many successful alumni. I got into this school because I was good at learning new things; maybe due to learning different new things and solving problems in Programming Questions, I was able to learn new things really fast. So maybe it helped me to get good scores.

My mother was now more away from home due to her work, and I was living alone by myself mostly. Well, we talked on the phone. She sent me an allowance every month, which was more than enough for me to eat outside every day and have fun without any worries.

My high school started, and I got a message from my mother that she was extremely sorry for not being able to send me off for the first day of high school. I didn't mind, as she was the one who was working hard for me so that I wouldn't lack anything, and I was very grateful for that.

(A/N: Hmm… she really is a good mother; you better take care of you Bastard)

The school started, and as I had shut myself in for 2 years, my communication skills were rock bottom, and I couldn't make myself talk to another student. Just like that, I became the loner of the class. Time passed by, and many groups of students were formed, and they joined many clubs. But I was a part of the "go home" club. A Loner without any friends.

From a third-person point of view, I was chubby and gloomy, didn't talk to anyone, and was a loner whose father died and whose mother was working. How did they find out about me? Well, it is not that difficult to know that much about someone. Anyway, I became the prime target for the ones who enjoyed making people suffer; that's called bullies, I think.

(A/N: Yep...., that's what you call them....)

It started after my first-year midterms when I mistakenly spilled food on one of those people (means bullies) during our lunch break.

You ask why..?, well just because a idiot forgot to tie his laces properly.

(A/N: And that idiot is you..., hehehe)

Haa.. I really regretted not tying my shoelaces properly, and my luck was that bad that it had to be one of the bullies. Obviously, he couldn't let it slide. Why would he?, he got a perfect target to beat up. After that, he beat me up completely, and I couldn't defend myself. The others just ignored it.

Well, I can't say anything; I also ignored many students who were being beaten by them before. After that day, it became common to hit me and make me do errands for them. Did I fight back, you ask? Of course not, I didn't. Who in their right mind would want to make enemies of the bullies? And there were so many. If I had fought back, they might have beaten me to death. Also, I didn't want my mother to be worried about me when she was devoting herself to work for my sake. Due to bullying, I used to have many bruises on me. They hit me over nothing. It was fun for them, but I endured it. Many will say I was a coward, and I absolutely agree with them. I am not embarrassed to admit that I am a coward.

I used to release my frustration by gaming. To distract myself from those things, I worked on my own game. After playing so many games, I decided to make one of my own.

Time again passed, and I came into my third year. The bullying continued, and I will say it got worse as they started to ask me for money and threatened me that they would come to my home if I didn't listen to them or contact my mom for money if I didn't listen to them.

During this time, I built a game called Hero Fight, which was an action game where players win after defeating the boss and level up to face stronger opponents. Hero Fight was a game that I made by thinking of beating those bastards. The game featured multiple levels, each with its own unique boss and increasingly difficult enemies. Players could choose from different characters, each with distinct abilities and fighting styles.

As players progressed, they could unlock new skills and power-ups to help them in their fight against tougher adversaries. It was not particularly an outstanding game, but I managed to sell it to a gaming company and earn a decent amount of money with that. That was my first game that I made and the first money that I earned by myself. I was really proud of myself.

While others were having fun with their friends and dating, enjoying their youth, I was alone in my room seating on gaming chair in front of computer screen. But I was making money and building my future? That doesn't sound too bad, right?

(A/N: Bro..., sorry to say but it sounds really depressing, you should make some friends)

Anyway, I made money, but I didn't tell my mom about it. I was thinking of giving her a surprise when she got back home from her business trip but all the money, Whatever I earned and what I got from my mom as monthly allowance went to the bullies.

"Cough…!!!, cough…!!!"

I came back to my senses as I coughed, and blood came out of my mouth. "I guess this is the end, huh?" muttering to myself.

"It really hurts." I started crying. Tears came out of my eyes mixed with blood. I didn't want to die. What will happen to my mother? She will be left alone. First my father, now me too. I can't imagine how she will react after hearing about my death. Why did I have to live such a life? What did I do to deserve this?

"If I can get a second chance, one more chance, I will make everything right and how I wanted, I will live the life that I wanted and imagined," tears still coming out from my eyes.

"I don't want revenge. I just want to live a peaceful life," I mumbled to myself with the last bit of energy I had.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of wheels screeching on the wet ground and saw blurry lights flashing. I was being lifted onto a stretcher. People surrounded me, their faces obscured by the rain and my fading vision.

"Get him into the ambulance!" someone shouted.

I felt hands pressing on my chest and someone yelling something about blood loss. The siren blared as the ambulance sped through the dark streets. Inside, I could hear a paramedic saying, "Stay with us!" over and over again.

In my mind, I thought, Is this how it ends? Dying in the back of an ambulance?

It was both comforting and ironic that these strangers were trying so hard to save me, a life that I had always considered insignificant.

"I… I just want to live…" I whispered in my mind before everything faded to black.