He’s six and he can’t do anything right.

The humiliation and shame of failure swelled up in his chest.

A pencil was almost worthless because his hands are close to useless.
He was outcasted by the teacher away from the other kids every single day.

No one had taught him how to read and the page was completely alien.

He couldn’t sleep at night no matter how hard he tried and he was spanked.
Deep down he only wanted to please his mother but he simply couldn’t.

Although he was “gifted” in a few ways he was incompetent in most others.

He could never make her proud so he had just to erase her from his mind.
She was dead and now ****** only to exist in the past.

The boy knew he was a burden and was only a mistake that was too late to be fixed.
For a time simply existing was a state of intense remorse.

No matter the punishments or pain inflicted on him the guilt still lingered.

He knew that he truly didn’t deserve love.
But he wanted it so badly from those who cant give it.