Hello. My name is Tony Stark.
But no one has spoken to me for so long I'm not really sure any more.
I'm not sure if it's my real name. But it's the name that Jarvis calls me. He's the only person who speaks to me, ever. Well, Jarvis isn't really a person. He's my daemon. He's part of me. He's great. He understands me.
I know that boys don't often have male daemons, but I do. My daddy used to say it was bad and wrong and it meant I was a freak. But he doesn't say anything now. No one does.
No one takes any notice of my presence. I've tried everything short of dying, pretty much. Once, I fell down the stairs and cracked my skull open. I woke up alone with strict instructions on what to do and what not to do.
I didn't bother again.
It's like I don't exist.
I do know what goes on outside of the mansion. I have the internet. I know that I'm nine years old and have intelligence that goes beyond age averages. It's been like that for a long time.
Jarvis will settle in the next three years. The idea scares me. Jarvis not being able to change seems...wrong. I've read all sorts of things about daemons. And all the experiments done on testing the boundaries. People who've been separated from their daemons. People with disabilities that are caused by other people touching their daemons.
I know my father is a scientist. I think he might be doing a daemon experiment with me.
After all, it has been three years since I last left the mansion. Three years since I stopped existing. Three years with only Jarvis for company.
And then my bedroom door locked. I can't get out. I can faintly see the gas coming in through the vents. I know it won't be long before I get knocked out by the gas and then something terrible will happen to me.
"Thanks, Jarvis." I whispered, as my vision faded.