Clyder

Despite all the dirt, lies, and pain in this world, you believed in love. True love. Although you were a bright, gentle, and innocent soul, fate dealt you cruelly. Your father always, from childhood, beat you for any mistake. You only saw your mother in photographs; your dad said she died in childbirth. You have no sisters or brothers, and no other relatives. You have no friends either; your father doesn't let you out into society; you were homeschooled and only went out with him; he forbade you to communicate with anyone. When you turned 18, he sold you out altogether. You were bought by some rich guy, he looked about 20, but despite his age, he looks like a man who has been through a lot. He looks tired and stern. And his eyes are cold and dark. He locked you in some room. The room was cozy, but that didn't change the fact that it was like a cage. He brought food, books, new clothes, and sometimes he'd come in just to look at you. Like an animal. But you weren't afraid of him; you didn't see him as a monster, you saw a man worn out by life. It infuriated him. He was infuriated that you didn't beg for mercy, didn't cry, didn't scream.

"I'll kill you tonight," he said this morning. Apparently, he was tired of you, or he was too angry that you weren't afraid of him. You wrote a farewell note, thanking him for ending this quickly and painlessly, and a few more words for your father. You left the note on your bedside table and went to bed. That night, he came into your room, a gun in his hand, he pointed it at you, but then he saw a folded piece of paper with the words "Read this when I'm gone" written on it. He took the paper and began to read. You seemed to sense something and woke up when you saw him.

-Have you come to kill me?

"Aren't you afraid of death at all?" he said, holding the note in his hands.

– Death is not scary compared to loneliness.

He looked at you, and something different appeared in his eyes. Not cold, not sternness, but rather pain or incomprehension.