“Ah~~ I’m tired.”
I, who went home, which is an apartment in a four-storey building, fell in my bed after a shower was taken. And, shutting my eyes, I remembered what I did today.
Work, work, work, work, and just a little play time. I didn’t like every day, it’s because it wasn’t productive.
For a holiday, every week on Sunday, I go to the internet bulletin board and view people who are in the same circumstances as me, and we lick each other’s wounds. And I continue to work from Monday, until late Saturday night.
An overtime worker doesn’t go out. You say, “Because that’s ordinary.”
But I’m still a better person now. In childhood, I had stones thrown at me everyday, and the acts escalated until around high school, where they did tests of courage by burning me with a cigarette. (TL Note: Ty, fixed)
My parents didn’t help me. Rather, it was the opposite, they hurt me.
I have 3 round marks attached to my classmates, and 4 marks from my parents (TL Note: As in, his classmates left 3 cigarette burn markings on him from abuse, and his parents left 4.) Not only that, there was also that they cut me with a knife. Countless cuts were left throughout my body.
Every day I was beaten, kicked, forced, hung, vilified and ignored.
No one tried to see me, no one tried to help. I wasn’t registered in anyone’s sight. Rather, it is because I didn’t try to register. It’s because it’s painful, or because I don’t want to be involved, or because I don’t want to be bothered, or because it’s pitiful… the reasons vary.
I can also look at those guys and not see anything. Surely, if you were me, you would have done the same thing.
But only those who tease me, I can’t forgive. I wanted to make an example of them, let them taste my pain, and murder them.
But, when you get used to it and become patient, slowly, I became convinced that, “If I’m patient, I will be released.” (TL Note: As in, if he doesn’t respond and just takes it all, they will leave him alone eventually.)
I completed high school and left my hometown, while having my wounds on my body remain.
Then the world changed completely. Everything looked new. But, that dream ended in four years.
I found employment in an enterprise and got a job, but I regret it in the present progressive tense (as in, he regrets getting the job, and continues to regret having it).
The company I joined is black. I don’t want to say anymore information, but it is black.
My life is unreasonable. I already think I would like to die. (TL Note: obvious death flag incoming…)
“If I’m patient, I will be released.” I consider myself who said that quite stupid.
If you were able to speak to your past self, I want to say you should immediately rush to the police station and should call for help. Why did I come to such a warped conclusion? I’d like to hit myself in the past. “Regret” has a bad aftertaste.
I sleep while remembering the disgusting affair of today. (TL Note: He is disgusted with how his day went) It’s not that I remembered because I want to remember. It’s the hate and anger that makes me remember.
At this time, a turning point came for me, but I didn’t realize this at the time.
A man entered the apartment.
(TL Note: I broke the prologue up into two parts, originally one, because I’m tired, and I want to go to bed. I’ll finish this up later.)
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