I am Bane. What follows is the story of my life, best as I can remember it.
The foundation of my destiny was laid out by a failed revolution before I was born. My father played a part in a failed coup against the government of Santa Prisca. He left behind my pregnant mother, a woman from the farms who got caught up in a man's false promises and outlandish dreams of a better life for her people. She was the only person in my life who has loved me. As I learned in my formative years, love is a weakness. I will always be grateful for her devotion to me when I was small and helpless, but it was her weakness that caused her to fall ill and die -long before her time.
My father, whomever he was, lacked the strength and willpower to win his battles. His lack of wisdom allowed him to start a war he could not possibly win. And his lack of courage meant that he never had to face the consequences of his failure. So the moment I was born, I faced the consequences for him. As was the law in Santa Prisca, -as his male heir, I was damned to a life of imprisonment for his crimes. And although I inherited his sentence, I am fortunate that I did not inherit his cowardice and stupidity.
I spent the first six years of my life in the protective custody area of Pena Dura. Pena Dura is amongst the toughest prisons on earth. My childhood took place in the protective custody area -the safest part of hell. The corridors were my playground. My only companion was a stuffed bear named Osito. He and I protected each other, told stories and played games together. The first time I learned about death was when Osito and I were hiding in the shadows. We saw another inmate bribe one of the guards to leave his post. As I watched from the darkness, the inmate who bribed the guard was able to meet with a friend, and the two of them ambushed and murdered a third inmate. One held him, while the other plunged a knife into his gut over and over. I stayed in the shadows too scared to breathe as blood pissed from the man's stomach until he stopped struggling. Surely they'd have killed me too had they known what I'd seen. I was fortunate that Osito was with me, otherwise I would surely have cried out and sealed my own fate.
My earliest memories are of my mother singing to me. She tried her best to keep my happy, and as far as I knew, our prison was the entire world. But I always knew that she was not happy. She knew that there was an outside world, and she knew that she would never see it again. That her son would never see it at all. This sadness ate away at her over the years and when I was six years old, she died -leaving me to fend for myself. The only other person who showed me decency at this stage in my life was another inmate, a man affectionately known as Zombie. He was a thin man, sickly looking who had in a previous life had gambled at making a fortune in the drug trade and lost. He had a sharp mind and would often smile and wave to me. He was allowed to work as a janitor near our cell. He was the only person to offer me sympathy when my mother died.
"I am sorry, little one." Zombie whispered to me as I felt his hand on my shoulder. "I told Dr. Ruger she was getting sick... but the man is an idiot."
"Why did she have to leave?" I asked Zombie.
He let out a sigh and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "These things happen. No one is forever."
I felt tears well up in my eyes, but I refused to cry. I needed to become as hard as the walls of this prison if I were to survive. The last time I was allowed to see my mother was when her lifeless corpse was tossed over the island cliff to the sharks below. I watched as my mother disappeared beneath the water, discarded like trash.
After her death, I was taken to see the warden. He was a pompous, cruel, sweaty man. He was fat with a moustache. From his position of power, he would do his best to make others miserable -to break them. His office stunk of cigar smoke, and behind his desk he had an oversized portrait of himself -just in case his arrogance and vanity wasn't apparent already. Hanging next to his desk was a spiked cage, perhaps used to torture prisoners in centuries past, now just used to intimidate six year old boys.
"Your mother has left you quite alone little one," he said to me with a smile that lacked any warmth. "She has left you without a single guardian but the state. But the state is no one's mother. You cannot expect the same treatment."
I stared at him blankly, unsure if I was expected to say anything.
"You must fend for yourself, little one!" he continued. "I am releasing you from protective custody and into general population. That is all." I was given a pillow, and two guards escorted me to my new cell with only Osito to keep me company.
At age six, my childhood was over, and I was expected to be a man.