In the next chapters you'll get a glimps. A glimps of a life that was destroyed. Destroyed because of peoples selfless action. Because of People's hate. Because they feared what the couldn't quite comprehend. And because of this a little boy was abused, raped, beatened, and even experimented on.
That little boy was me... I grew up hated, feared, and unloved. Who am I exactly? Just your average everyday abused child. I am Cloud Strife. I am the one who beat Sephiroth and saved the planet. I am the one who save the humans' miserable lives. What do I get out of it? Nothing because I don't want them to know I saved them. That it was me who gave them another day.
Do I sound bitter? I'm not sorry if I do. This is pent up anger since i can remember. That's laughable. Because what i remember is only that happen in the last 3 years. When I woke up in Midgar with Tifa hovering over top of me.... THAT is where my memories begin.
Think I'm crazy? I think i am. Do you think I'm strange? Because I know I'm strange.
I was thinking that life would be easier when i grew up. I'm grown now. Where's the easy part? I'm still beaten. I'm still raped. I'm still hated and feared.
Love? What's that?
You get no love when you are won in bet and raped in front of the losers.
Still bleeding.
Do I still sound bitter and spiteful? Can you really blame me? After all I am just a simple puppet being tugged around by strings.
Yeah... I guess I can live like that. Don't I get to break the strings now that I'm 21?
I guess not.
Time to add another cut.
My arms are scarred now because of these cuts. I have been through a mental battle field. Look I'm losing.
6....9...18....47...60....93....157 scars now.... And that's just one arm.
I was still thinking... About who I really am why I am the way I am... What made me this way...what caused it... I've been thinking about this a lot lately and the more I think about it... the more I don't like myself... the more I want to be alone... away... so I get to a point where I try and withdrawal myself from everyone. This is what I did.
What good is wishing if wishes do not really exist? What is good of an existence where there is no meaning? No memories. No hopes, no dreams...only pain. Why do people put other people through that? Why do they want them to no longer remember who they were? What they did? And what they dreamed for or to be? Why do the have to crush a living spirit? Yet... if that spirit... that entity dies...why do they mourn?
Then what is the exact point of asking if no one knows? Why bother answering...if the answer is "I don't know"... I will never get over this... I will never truly exist. Only half of me lives...what happened to the rest? If you me existing as breathing, walking around then sure.... I exist... but mentally.... it is too shattered to tell I am stuck with this...this feeling.
It will not change or go away and...I feel if I remember my past... I will lose more of me... what if time...just makes it worse? What if...after I leave...I want to come back? If I do... would you? would you stop me? would you promise me something? Would you stop me if I ever want to come back regardless the situation?
If I was to hurt myself... Would you save me? If I was trapped in despair would you hold me? I always wondered if someone could actually show that they love me... but it never happened.
Me? Loved? Tortured, bruised, bleeding...not loved.