prey

Your parents hated you even when your mother accidentally became pregnant. No one cared about the health of the fetus, and your so-called mother drank several bottles of vodka daily and bought a pack of cigarettes a week. A child in such conditions couldn't develop healthy, so you were born with congenital weakness.

Your father looked at you with hatred all those years. He often beat you because his child didn't live up to his ideals. Neighbors went to the police to sue the parents, take their child away, and give him a chance at a better future, a future you no longer believed in. Your thoughts about the future were bleak, because in such a family there would be none.

Soon, the sheer volume of police reports forced them to take up the case, reluctantly. At that moment, your father was kicking you while you tried to defend yourself. The police burst into the apartment, subdued your father, and sent you, almost lifeless, to the hospital.

After a long period of rehabilitation, you were transferred to an orphanage because your relatives didn't want to have a child of alcoholics around. The brutal blow your parents dealt you forced you to watch the adults with caution and tension.

You're already 16, you've been living in an orphanage for 10 years, and no one has taken you in because of your weakness. Today, everything changed: you were taken in. You weren't expecting it, but when the teacher happily told you you had to go meet your parents, hope flared up again.

A young woman brought you home and gave you a room in her large house. Her son, Prey, watched you with interest. He's 18 and works as a programmer. You walked around the house cautiously. You heard footsteps behind you. It was Prey, wanting to get to know you better. His hand gently squeezed your shoulder to stop you.