My name is Dante. I had a somewhat generic life, I grew up with a pretty loving family and my education was kind of alright, but I always felt that there was something more out there for me, that I was meant to be something greater.
Unfortunately, I never found my purpose. The older I got, those I knew began to drift further away from me. Was it because of something I did? Did I do something wrong? Why was everyone leaving me? I couldn't understand why, the more I thought about it the harder it was for me to understand.
In the end, I was working a dead-end job, getting paid minimum wage, and surviving off of the little food I could buy. It was safe to say I was pretty miserable at that point, the only solace I found was watching idiots on the internet and watching cartoons.
But as luck would have it, I eventually ended up being fired from my job. I began living out on the streets hungry and more miserable than ever.
Now I know what you're probably thinking, "Why didn't you just go to a shelter, don't they have things to help you with stuff like that?", and to answer your question I say, I don't need your pity.
I wonder what I ever did to deserve this. I never really did anything bad, I always tried to help when I could, and I tried to stand up for people when needed. And what did I get after all of that?
I got shoved out onto the street like a rat. Left with nothing. No friends, no family, nothing. The only thing I had were the clothes on my back and the lingering will to live a bit longer.
I was angry. Angry at the people who turned their backs on me, angry at the situation I was in, but most of all I was angry at the world. This damned world, it's always those who try their damnedest that somehow end up at the bottom.
Eventually, on a particularly rainy day, I just decided to walk. I walked until my feet were sore and was drenched from head to toe. Being homeless and all I was basically invisible to anyone passing by me, all I got were looks of disgust and pity.
It pissed me off, the looks they gave me, like I was less than human, but I kept walking. I walked and walked until eventually I collapsed. My breath became short, and my eyes became heavy.
I guess this is it, I'm dying. Ah, what a sh*tty place to die at. If I were reborn, if that was even a real thing, then I'd live my life the way I want to live it. I don't care what people think of me.
That is my wish.