To Be Real?

The Boy Named Death

Once upon a time there was a small child. The child was a boy. His father was a murderer and a rapist. He had raped the future mother. Then, he had left when he was done with her. He did not murder her, but she wished he had. Eight months later, she had given birth to a beautiful baby boy. However, she had fallen very ill soon after. Ten days passed after the boy’s fifth birthday. That is when she died, and he was left all alone to fend for himself in this cruel world. The only thing she had left him was a name. It was his name. Death was what she told him his name would be with her final breath. He was so happy to have a name to call himself. Before she died, she would call him ‘You! Boy!’ Now he had a name. It meant so much to him. Now he could finally have a purpose. Death. What a name to have.