Chapter 2, Why…to Everything…
This place is so humdrum boring. The fast paced world that I'm used to does not happen here. Time, in my mind and the environment, seems to slow down. I HATED the factors that led me here. I HATED that I couldn't lay on my king sized bed in my penthouse, and contemplate life. I ABHORRED that I couldn't be in my whirlpool atop the roof, relaxing my worries, away from everybody. But everybody, in this case may be, was at Verity College. A homey place that was in the middle of the country, surrounded by freshly farmed fields and the unique smell of grass, made me retch. I don't even know why I left NYC, but that place was also populated with people, which is why I walked by night. So I mostly stayed in my penthouse until I was called out for a business meeting. Technology is incredible! Honed satellite sensors can track my workplace millions of miles away, and deliver pristine pictures to my computer. That way, I didn't have to associate with people much. I didn't dislike them, and was open for communication sometimes, but mankind has let me down, far too much…
I don't want this getting out anywhere, and I hardly trust I can confide this to myself, but I really don't know where I come from… This is what I've been told… I was born on October 25, 1989. Supposedly, it was an abnormally early winter and the snow was gently cascading down from the endless sky when I was put in a basket at Eau Demille Orphanage and Reforming Centre. Eau Demille was in the middle of a forest and for some reason today, I hate the verdant green trees of the forest and snow that falls on my face. It was October 31th, Halloween. In the basket, there was a note that said: *We don't want this kid anymore, not that we had him for long, anyway. Here are the legal documents. PEH! This kid would have ruined our careers. His name is Seto Kaiba.* I still carry it around in my business briefcase in a special compartment that requires a password. It is one of the only things that makes me weep, and it's even hard for me to admit that. Ironically, my parent's careers were both Business affiliated. I live for my job. I make it a lifetime wish to show my parents up in the pits of despairing HELL how their abandoned, lost son grew up to have fabulous wealth and power, and how they, sadly missed out…
Ah hem. Sorry. Or maybe not, who knows? I grew up until I was 18 at the Eau Demille. I was always a silent, solitary child that preferred working with the computer or fixing things around the descript orphanage. Shrubs and trees were ailing or dead. Foundations were cracking, and walls were decaying, with vines sticking through them. To get porridge oatmeal slop surprise, they had me clean up the place; fill in cracks with molding clay, and use weed spray on the humongous vines. Sometimes I wondered how fate let me, an abnormal genius; slip through its grasp and into a life of hell. Sometimes, in the bowels of my black, platinum and diamond encrusted heart, I have this tingly feeling. I know I'm yearning for something, but what? I hate the fact that can even call myself human, in a race that has officially rejected me and given me the swift hand of fate. But look out. Now I'm back, and I can make the world bend to my will, and give me whatever I had missed when I was born into this sick, miserable world. But for some reason, I don't think it's possible…
Suddenly, someone said, "Hey, what's up?" He had a grin on his face, and his eyes were sparkling with joy. Maybe that was the feeling I had been wishing and yearning for all these hellhole years on earth. I had endured two decades, what more does this measly planet want of my presence? "I SAID how are you doing?" The kid exclaimed. He had green hair like the guy that was hiding in the bush except sticking out from his forehead a bit, green phosphorescent emerald eyes, and was wearing a gaudy white t-shirt with black jeans. I shook my head. "I didn't ask you to say anything to me, runt." He grinned, and said, "You didn't need to. Mommy asked me to help someone today." Yeah, HELP YOURSELF! Suddenly, the girl I was confronting that I didn't pay attention to stepped up to him. "Hey! You're cute! My name's May Petalburg. Let me show you around." She left with him in tow. Thank goodness. Then, I remembered when I was 1. According to the orphanage, I didn't know how to walk then, and stayed in a rusting, old, crib that had a few animal nests in it. People around here didn't voluntarily clean, so I had to do it myself when I got older.
Every moment that I spent in that crib… The darkness was absorbing the light from my eyes, my touch, my everything. Not a babble came out of my mouth, I was smart enough that I knew crying was useless. I was a bean pole, and I still am. Cursed at and slandered in the womb, I knew my parents did not want me. Nutrients did not come through the umbilical cord, and if they did, it was little. The aftermath? I wasn't wanted, loved, or worth anything. I was a MISTAKE. Sometimes, I just wonder why. Keeping the pain in myself that won't go away…