People often claim that the arrival of a new child is a blessing, but is that assertion genuinely accurate? Today, I will recount the tale of a boy whose greatest misstep was his very existence, and that unfortunate circumstance turned his life into a living nightmare.
In September 2000, a woman lay on a hospital bed after giving birth to a fragile and tiny boy. Her husband was absent. Left to navigate the delivery on her own, the mother heard her son cry out—a sound from an unsuspecting child who knew nothing of the world. However, that innocence was destined to fade. With each passing day, the mother and her son left the hospital, accompanied by the father—a tall man with dark hair and striking yellow-green eyes, whose serious demeanor was evident. They returned home as a family, which included the mother, the father, and their two-year-old daughter, plus the newborn boy. As time went on, a routine emerged: the mother would rise at 3 a.m. to make breakfast for her husband, and by 4 a.m. she would leave for work at a bakery. At 6 a.m., the father would wake, eat breakfast, take the two children to their nanny, and then head to his carpentry job.