The fire roared with the thirst of new air to expand its pain through the ware house collapsing with the bricks crumbling at the heat of the furnace burning brighter as time passes, there was nothing that anyone could do but watch as the building burnt to the ground.
A silent cry whimpered in the whisper of the wind blowing through the ruins of the warehouse wanting someone to answer, to take away the pain and rescue them after the fire destroyed what was supposed to be an empty building.
Rummaging through the rubble to try and save this fading cry from death, the fire department scurried around for this survivor, for this single cry. You were this cry you were the little boy of 8 trapped underneath concrete slabs pleading for help, but with no return you knew that this would be your end. You could have never imagined the monster that you turned into after that day, after the day you weren't rescued; after you were trapped underneath this prison of pain for many weeks... it changed you.
Once the construction crews rolled in and cleared away the rubble they found you... they thought you were dead with the mere sight of your burnt face and having been trapped there for all this time living off the shallow puddle of water and mud around your head. But after they lifted the slabs off your now crippled body they realised you weren't dead but in need of assistance immediately.
They rushed you into the busy hospitable word with a near nonexistent chance that you would survive. Each doctor nurse patient and anyone else that you passed was shocked by the state that you looked, the remaining skin that hung from your revolting face was shrivelled and useless with no point of it even existing, you wished you died that day the ceiling collapsed and destroyed the little joy and peace that you held on to as you had nothing but the clothes on your back and the minimum food that your mother stole you and your brothers and sisters.
After they operated on your face and smashed bones they then sent you off to an orphanage with nothing but the clothes that hung from your anorexic skeleton. They tried to counsil you at the orphanage and tell you that it wasn't your fault the fire started at killed everyone you loved, but nothing could change the fact that you wanted the attention that rescuing your family from a fire would bring you... you were the runt of your family nothing you did would please your mother... to make her happy after your father's death.
You were kept in the orphanage until you were 17, approximately 9 years after the fire, no one adopted or even fostered you, they loved the sound of your personality and wanted to help with your traumatic past but when they looked at your disfigured face you never heard from them again. What they didn't know that this would add on to the trauma raging through your veins and increasing the monster you will become.