If you could see people's lives as a fast paced movie from a bird's eye point of view, what do you think your movie would look like?
If I had to say about my own, I'll say it was a dark comedy with some sprinkles of suspense, erotism and psychology elements mixed in between.
My life was more than what was expected out of it, if I do say so myself, life gave away all the ingredients for Damian Rossi (That's my name, nice to meet you *waves*) to become a loose cannon type of adult; Alcoholic and abusive father, a mother who died of sickness, poor living conditions, grew up never knowing what feeling safe or loved was like. You know, the usual.
Yet, in spite of such a life, I made the best I could with the cards I was dealt with, using the social safety nets my country provided to those of disadvantaged backgrounds, plus the hunger every poor man feels for a better life, I managed to graduate as top of my class, went off to university, got my degree and rapidly climbed the corporate ladder using both my social and professional skills. However, at no point during this time did I feel any satisfaction for my accomplishments, as though something was missing.
And indeed something was missing, according to my therapist, it was the lack of human connections in my life, I always knew that I could never quite shake off the sequels of my childhood trauma, I've always been acutely self aware for better or for worse, but it wasn't until I had a professional point it out and try to give me tools to fix the problem that I realized just how hollow I was inside.
As it turns out, in all my 26 years of life, I've never quite had one single deep emotional connection with another human being… Well, aside from my mother that is, but she passed away too young for me to properly learn something from that connection and as it turns out, having one missing (or dead in my case) and another abusive parent, makes you incredibly attachment avoidant as an adult, since your subconscious mind think that if your parents, the biggest pillars of support in life failed spectacularly at playing said role, how can a stranger be any better than those who are supposed to be your unfaltering safe spaces in this world. So, during my whole life I replaced those connections with stories, stories that could only entertain me, give me hope, happiness and joy or sadness and grief in a contained environment.
I've also treasured these stories for reasons I never dared to explain to my therapist, a crippling sensation that I know could never be filled in my life, I have also always loved fantastic stories because of the possibility of escaping our limitations as humans. I am fascinated, maybe even a bit obsessed, with worlds where there are greater goals than hoarding pieces of paper and buying material possessions, worlds where humans can transcend our incredibly short lifespans, our incredibly fragile mortal coils and live pursuing a never ending journey alongside those we love.
They say knowledge is a curse, and how right they are, knowing even of the possibility of such a life is an unbearable reminder of how bland and short the human experience is, specially for those of us who can't even find people to share it with, for a man without love is no better than a beast, just more aware of itself. Going through the motions. Trying to survive and pass on our genes to fulfill our roles as members of a race.
Understandably so, these are concerns that normal humans wouldn't even think about, I know that much. I can't expect others to understand and take my thoughts seriously since for most people, this normal existence is enough and I understand that, I really do. Not everyone has this type of ambition and not everyone should have, some really are content with stable and regular lives surrounded by family and friends, maybe I could've been one of these people were I not almost incapable of letting others in my heart.
Still, I've always had a deep empathy and care for mankind, as flawed and crooked as some of us may be, so I used the incredible salary my position gave me to open a recreation center for the children of the working and the working poor, this was my way to connect with others, to give back to my community.
And let me tell you, when the first child thanked for "sharing my toys" to him and the others with the characteristic purity only a child could have, I felt a type of happiness that no amount of money making could ever give in a hundred lifetimes, at that moment I felt that I understood why heroes choose to continue such a difficult job.
Slowly so, it was giving these children a safe and happy place where they can learn (Yes, I do encourage them to read as I am a bit of a bookworm myself, so I sincerely wish to share my joy for literature with a youth that is less and less literate as time goes by. I also believe the best way to shape the world is by making the children, our future, more knowledgeable of the world around them) and have fun too, is what began to heal the trauma no amount of therapy or hooking up with random women could heal.
Yet, life is unforgiving, refusing to let the good people of the world have it easy. One morning while I was visiting the center, as I've always tried to do once or twice a week to make sure everything was in order, I saw a man trying to kidnap one of the children, the same one who was the first to thank me for lending him "my toys", before I could rationalize what to do, I ran to them while screaming to make sure anyone that was around could notice what was happening and this may have been a mistake, because the man panicked and took a knife out of his pocket to threaten me to not get any closer.
However, he seemed as inexperienced as me with this situation since he pointed the knife at me rather than using it on Alan, the child, to engage in a hostage situation.
Thankfully, I could use this in my favour to distract him and make him lose sight of Alan, to which he took advantage by biting the kidnapper in his hand so he would let go, I thanked god that Alan was an astute and brave child before engaging the kidnapper while telling Alan to tell the center's caretaker/nanny to call the police while I tried to make the man stay in place, I couldn't have a possible kidnapper escape since who knows when will he try to pull a stunt like this again, I couldn't let other children get in danger.
Much to my disappointment though, this was not a comic book nor a light novel about heroes saving the day and I wasn't the Man of Steel or Spiderman, so after 5 minute "fight" I ended getting stabbed multiple times since I wouldn't let go of him, you can call me stupid if you want, but I'd rather die than let the only piece of true happiness in my life get destroyed by a human trafficker or worse, a pedophile.
After the second stab things started to get blurry and the last thing I could remember was the police sirens and the screams of a man before everything went black.
Why am I telling you all this you wonder right? Well for one, it is said we all see a fast forwarding movie of our lives moments before we die. And two, who would've known mine would've been in the form of a monologue with myself, a tragic comedy I tell you. Oh well, at least I can finally rest… and stop worrying… about the… woes… of… life…
A/N: decided to end the prologue in a more summarized version than what I originally intended. I'd love to expand upon Damian's life, thoughts, beliefs and actions but I decided I'd rather do that as the story progresses, so for now I'll give a brief overview of who he is and a gist of his personality and expand upon it when the story touches on the topic in the future. For those that read up until this point, thank you. Hope you enjoy this work, as this is the first novel I've decided to write to completion and publish. Cheers!