Wait, I'm a Magical Tree!?

Chapter 1 - Out of Darkness comes Life. . .

(TRIGGER WARNING: Dark subjects, Un-aliving, Depressing.)

Waking up from my sleep, I attempt to move my body, but for some reason, I can't. I try to move my arms, but I don't feel them. My legs, I don't feel them as well. What's going on? I can't see anything. I can't see my own body! Where am I? What is this place?

Everything feels so foggy, what was I doing before this? I concentrate and think about a time before this. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

One hour ago. . .

Walking through the busy streets is a tired young boy. His name isn't important enough to learn or remember. His life isn't important enough to record. He is just a number in an immeasurable bucket of water and dirt called Earth. The boy walks until the streets are no longer visible.

Thousands of thoughts go through his head like rotting stagnant water. What he is thinking is unbelievable. A decision that goes against his innermost instincts.

Boy: "No one's waiting for me back home. . . isn't there?"

The boy says to no one that his area is remote and desolate. What used to be a park is now abandoned from atrophy. The Boy's face scrunches in despair. Did everything have to end up like this?

The Boy looks at the two bags hanging from his fingers. One filled with one bottle of booze and a rope. . . The other was his last meal, A fast food paper bag containing one burger and one medium-sized fries. He slumps there, contemplating his choices.

He remembers the first time he turned eighteen, getting kicked out and being forced to live on his own with little to no preparations. A boy fighting for survival in a dog-eat-dog world, the cost of living making things even worse. The prices of even owning a house are grand and out of reach. His 9-5 job can't even pay for necessities.

What year is it again? 2195? 2189? He can't bother to even remember the date. It all feels hopeless, faith in this imaginative karmic system having been sucked and destroyed in front of him a few times. He isn't the only one to think this. . .

He is as always, another number in a growing problem in teen men. Suicide rates just keep on getting bigger, and solutions failing and making things even worse. Loneliness is slowly eating at him, Is there any escape from this? No way to fix this and live a happy life?

The boy shuts the thought down, there is no such thing. Isn't that life? To suffer the whole time, you're here. In such a hopeless situation he finds himself. Hopeless. Hopeless. Hopeless. These words ring out like an echo chamber, No one cares about some random person struggling in life, and that is why those adverts about helping 'Men become their best selves' fail. No one gives a damn about me, or people like me. It's all just catering to people who are willing to follow their narrative.

It's an uncaring world. . . A World that is no longer worth living in.

Boy: "This place should be good. . . I don't want my body to be discovered and video recorded and uploaded onto the internet. . ."

It's sad, having to die in a hidden place. Where no light can find you, just to keep that little semblance of privacy with you. In an age of AI and surveillance, no secret is safe. Not even the dark dirty ones. So much isn't secure that even the government is keeping tabs on their citizens.

The boy eats his fast-food garbage and drinks his sour beer, his first-time drinking beer. A tired look still infecting his face. Quickly, he sets up his noose and readies to embrace the end. That is until someone comes in. . .