It would be impossible to write a narrative this miserable in a novel or a movie. A writer would be criticized for a lack of probability, and an audience would reject it for being too contrived.

But in this world, there are people who live lives so wretched that they couldn't even be written as fiction. I am one of them.

My parents abandoned me, and the world abandoned me. I've lived believing I was a being that should never have been born. A weed growing in the shade. A being worth less than a pebble rolling on the street. A life that no one would find strange if it vanished at any moment.

But sometimes, when you smile at me. When you talk to me. When you call my name. I find myself hoping against my better judgment. That even in my life, which has only ever existed in the shadows, light might finally enter because of you.