Dear Life Letter…
Dear life,2030/06/23
Oh Lord, my gracious God, who would've thought we would've ended up here. Born into a family of poverty, scraps held our lives steady, the tides changing, the tables turning, something I would've never guessed. Back then, my sister went to only the richest doorsteps, handled each guy with their lustful desire, unholy, as an underage sixteen-year-old for scraps of change. Her kindness still spreads through me, but sadness empties her. Every time she was to come back, she cried. Tears of agony and despair, but we needed the money. Money that, if we had not taken, would've caused the end of our lives. My mother, whilst working in an underground facility, was a medical test subject, but it's not medical, never was, it was to prove the theory of metamorphosis. Some days she would never come, and some days she came home looking like a half-dog, half-human. However, they have unlocked cures over time, but some things remain incurable to this day, possibly due to things that not even the scientists remember. While the Giant of Gon, my father, had arguably the worst treatment, he worked as a fighter, but one for government entertainment. He didn't speak much about it, but his lost right arm and left eye said all there is to know. He's a giant, though, and one that's seven feet, muscular body; that's where he got that nickname. But that wasn't all, he created his own adoption center for kids lost, even though he didn't have the money for it. He could never look at a young kid in the face and tell them they have nowhere to be. For me, I was too young for any work to accept me, and my parents restricted me from going into black market jobs, or the alleyway of secrets. I was twelve at the time, but now, I'm sixteen. From the despair I felt, the uselessness, the thought that my own ignorant self was wasting my family's supplies, so what more than to disappear so I can relieve their spirits once more. But everything changed once that person came to us. Until now, his appearance blurs through my thoughts, but his kindness on that day, the day he gave my family another chance at life, changed. He gifted us money, supplies, a place to stay, everything, everything the human soul has to offer in generosity. And we took on the deal, suspicious initially, but it changed. And four years later, I'm here, proud and more desirable than ever. Creating this novel for the people out there who believe life is over. When help is on the way, you simply must wait for the time.
This is the novel Zylus has produced for others to continue with strong morals. Even someone like himself, who's been through thick and thin, continues with the utmost happiness, uttering around his body. But will this happiness last, or will he soon be engulfed by something inhuman?