Once upon a time there was this little boy.
Brave.
Heart wide open, too curious for his own good.
My parents taught me to love—to live.
Taught me that life was something to embrace.
That I should embrace myself.
But I didn't know…
I didn't know this life was a hell of an illusion.
Where should we start?
Hmm… at the end, I guess.
Like the title of this book or memoir will be:
The Day I Die.
Not the kind of death where people cry at your funeral.
The kind where the soul gives up, but the body keeps walking.
The kind no one sees coming because you're still answering texts and cracking jokes.
That's the day this story starts.
The day the light dimmed inside me.
The day I realized smiling didn't mean
The day it all started, he was just 7 years old.
Back when he was a kid—playful, helpful.
Had a lot of friends.
Had respect.
But the night it started… was a quiet one.
All that was in his head was that he wanted to be someone.
He didn't care about study or any of that stuff.
He just wanted to enjoy life.
Enjoy fun.
But like every parent always says:
"Focus on your school. You'll be someone tomorrow."
And that's what he did.
Studied hard.
Tried to make his parents proud.
But that still didn't satisfy the greed inside him—the one whispering to drop it all.
That night, he came back from school wandering,
asking himself:
What's the definition of life?
What's the purpose of everything?
And it was dark in his head.
No thoughts. No nothing. Just pitch black.
He started to feel lonely.
But maybe—he was just hungry or something.
Around 8, it was time to study.
His dad was helping him.
But nothing. Just a blank.
Couldn't keep any lessons.
Couldn't study.
Nothing stuck.
But you know, as a kid,
you don't really have much to do after that.
You just study your thing.
His parents got a little angry…
So he faked it.
Pretended he learned something.
Went to sleep like it was just a normal night.
Fell asleep easily.
Morning came.
School started at 8.
He was on the road—
singing,
playing with his imagination,
talking with his friends like it was a normal day.
But inside… he wasn't there.
Something wasn't normal.
It felt like emptiness.
Still, he faked it.
Smiling.
School finished at 4.
That's when everything really started.
He was in his classroom. Alone.
Thinking about the life he wanted.
And then…
his brain started working.
The only idea he had—
mostly stupid—
was to rip out the pages of his lesson book.
He told himself:
"If I tell Dad the teacher didn't give any lessons today,
that'd be the best excuse."
And he was happy with that decision.
He didn't have to learn,
didn't have to spend hours and hours studying,
doing math,
or homework.
And he realized—
doing that made him a little happy.
Believe it or not,
that's when the devil stole everything.