Its been fifteen years. Fifteen years since that boy died. The man who took his place was nothing more than a piece of stone, devoid of emotions, devoid of pain, devoid of things that made him human. He would not let those things kill him, as they had killed the little boy, not yet anyway. He has a job to do. He owes someone that much, even though he doesn't even know that someone.
Its been fifteen years. Fifteen years of pain. Even the stone can see his broken pieces lying around him. But its been worth it. He hasn't wasted these fifteen years. The stone has mastered everything he wanted. He knows what other people donot. He can do what other people cannot. He can be what other people cannot. And for that he despises himself.........like he despises this world and everybody in it. Despises but not hates. No.......he does not hate everyone. Its a privilage reserved for very selected people. But he hates himself. Hates and pities himself. Hates because what he has let himself become, and pities because he knows he could not have been someone else.... something else.
Its been fifteen years.Wounds don't seem to heal. Its better that way, because they donot let him forget.....and forgive. He is now so used to pain, that without them he would not exist. He knows that without them there will be no reason to exist.
Its been fifteen years of fear. Every night he would try to sleep as his nightmares engulfed him. And every night he would wonder why there was no one to hold his hand and tell him everything will be alright ? Why was he chosen ? Why did he have to alone ? Why he had no one to pick him up when he fell at every step ? Why ? He did not know. He will never know. He will never have anyone. Once he understood that, he accepted his fears. Accepted that he was weak. Accepted that he will always be on his own. And in the end, he knew that he had been given a chance. Now it was his fight .....to win or lose, to succeed or fail, to live or to die..............