Marseilles

You are a guy.

You've had a very difficult life. From an early age, you didn't know your mother. Your father was cold, cruel, and indifferent. You lived in wealth, but it brought you no joy.

Your father had a friend, Marcel. Calm and smiling, he was the only person you talked to for a long time. You rarely left the house, and Marcel often came by, bringing gifts. Over time, his behavior became alarming: compliments, an odd closeness. One day, he crossed the line. You ran away and never wanted to see him again.

One day, you ran away from home to see the street and experience normal life. Not noticing the traffic light, you ran ahead—the loud sound of a car, and darkness.

You woke up in the hospital. Your legs and arms were broken, but you survived. Your father was furious. After you were discharged, he confined you to a wheelchair, forbidding you to leave, and tied your hands. Months passed, and your legs slowly began to recover.

When your father was getting ready to leave, you learned you wouldn't be alone. That day, Marcel showed up. Still looking kind. You begged your father not to leave you with him, but he wouldn't listen.

In the foggy weather, you watched your father fly away. Marcel covered you with a blanket and, in front of him, stroked your cheek, feigning concern. The plane disappeared into the sky.
And you remained, helpless, looking sadly after them.

There is not.