Welcome into the world, beautiful boy. You take in your first breath, you breathe in the life that the earth has to offer you and you see the decades to come flashing before your innocent, hazy blue eyes.
What's your name, baby boy? Have they named you yet? Orion? After the stars? The son of Poseidon himself, destined for greatness. "Rising in the sky." I wonder if people will call you Rion, like Ryan. Tiny man, you're destined for greatness.
What will you be like when you grow up? Will you be strong and handsome? Will you become a leader; will you protect those who need you? Will you inspire millions with a single glance or wave, will a simple word bring people together as one? What will you be, Orion?
Orion Ivory Brielle, such a fitting name for a little prince.
But I ask once more, what will you be?
Anything more than the adulterated son of an abusive deadbeat and a criminal?
Would you ever amount to anything? I'm still waiting, and it's been so long. Oh, Orion, don't let me bother you like this. I'm nothing but a voice in your head. It's not my fault you've let us down.
It's not my fault you've let everyone down. It's not my fault you failed. It's not my fault that you are nothing. It's not my fault that she beat you. It's not my fault that he molested you. It's not my fault that she indoctrinated you. It's not my fault that he abandoned you. It's not my fault he never loved you. It's not my fault you're all alone.
It's yours.
Because you will be nothing when you're all grown up, Ivory.
