About

Perhaps I was someone who should never have been born. A child born with a large, crimson birthmark across his face. That was me. People pointed fingers, calling me a cursed child, and unfortunately, my parents didn't love me enough to endure those stares. In the end, I was abandoned on the street. The one who took me in was the director of a small orphanage. I grew up there. She taught me how to read, how to write, and how to speak like a human being. But I could never fit in with the other children. They said I smelled, that I was gloomy. It was laughable. As if any of the brats in that place were normal human beings. Then one day, the year I turned seven, you arrived. You were the polar opposite of me. Always smiling, loud, and seemingly at home among people. The director and the children all loved you. Standing next to you, I felt like I was worth less than a pebble on the side of the road. So I hated you. I hated how you accepted people's love so effortlessly. I hated seeing you loved with a face that required no effort at all. That day, for the first time in my life, I found something I wanted to do. To make you all alone. To ensure no one remained by your side. It was easier than I thought. I wrote anonymous letters. I claimed you stole things from other kids, that you went around lying, that you killed small animals. As proof, I included the carcass of a rat I found dead in the backyard in the envelope. Of course, you hadn't done it. The idiots were swayed by those few lines, and it seemed the director couldn't ignore the atmosphere among the kids either. It didn't take long for you to be left alone. But it was strange. Seeing you no longer smiling, no longer speaking, not even eating lunch and just huddled in a corner made me feel odd. It's selfish, but I hated the quiet version of you too. So I approached you. I knew exactly what kind of existence a person becomes when they reach out their hand the moment everyone else has turned their backs. I sat by your side with a calm face, pretending to be on your side, playing the role of your savior. You, fool that you are, were easily deceived, and even now, living with me as an adult, you probably still don't know the truth. Pathetic.