To Be A God.

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Not every story has a happy beginning, but what you make of that beginning will always alter the ending.

Will you let it define you, or will you fight with every molecule in your body to have the happy ending you've always wanted.

Thats where his story begins.

Philza Minecraft, he is the God of the sky.

But he wasnt handed this title, lets travel back in time, when Philza was born.

His mother was ill while she was pregnant with him. His father, well, he was out of the picture.

The man left after having the affair with her, the village looked down upon them, sending them into poverty.

No doctor would cure her illness, no nurse would treat her wounds. She was alone.

But when she felt the small child inside of her kick for the first time. She realized she would never be alone with her child by her side.

After 9 months of barely scraping by, she delivered a healthy baby boy.

She wasn't allowed to name her child, it was looked down upon.

The man of the house was supposed to name the child, but, he was nowhere to be found.

The doctor, well, civilian who heard the painful screams, named the child.

"His name shall be Philza, may the gods bless him." With that, his mother was brought to tears.

She was finally free from her loneliness and disrepair.

When the people that surrounded her dubbed she would be fine. They scattered and left her on the ground, in the dark, alone with a new born baby.

The first night was definitely the hardest, suffering from her illness and just delivering a baby, she was doomed.

She cleaned Philza, her beloved son, and wrapped him in some cloth she stole from someone's house.

"My sweat angel, how I wish i could stay with you, and cherish you. But I cannot, for I am doomed to eternal sleep. Rest easy my child. These people will help you." His mother kissed him on the head, for the first and last time, and laid him down gently on someone's doorstep.

She knocked and then left quickly. Philza cried at his mothers absence.

The door was opened by an older women wearing poor and ripped up clothing.

She looked around till she heard the distressed child on the doorstep.

She scooped him up quickly, looked around once more, and went inside escaping the cold.

Upon further inspection, she noticed a piece of paper with terrible handwriting, stating the name, 'Philza'.

Philza's first night of being alive was rough, but as the years went by, he was nothing more then a cleaner with his aunt.

The older women took him in, fed him, bathed him, though she never wanted to be a mother, she still kept the child.

She feared the gods would smite her if she did any different.

Philza was now ten, ten years of working and suffering.

He still smiled when others greeted him, he still laughed when others told a joke. But deep down, he was tired.

He was doing the duties his aunt could not, he cleaned peoples furnaces and pig pens.

Utterly revolting.