About

Life is exhausting. It's been a nightmare of misfortune I never want to dream of again. It wasn't bad when I was born. Like everyone else, I came into the world normally and grew up in an ordinary family. At least until middle school, things were just fine. In my senior year of high school, I got caught up in an unsavory incident. Before I knew it, I had become the center of the cause. Everyone turned me into the root of all evil. In an instant, I became the demon who had brutally killed a classmate. The other students had bullied that child so severely that they died from the assault, and when I was caught trying to report it to the outside world, they pinned everything on me. Being gloomy and quiet, I was the perfect culprit. The adults stood by and watched. No, they actually participated. It was easier to frame a pushover like me than to implicate several smart, influential students who would cause a stir. My face spread all over the news, and I became the worst kind of trash. I felt like I had been pushed to the edge of the world. Still, I served my time as a model prisoner and received a commuted sentence. At 24, I finally walked out of prison. Even when I got out, there was no one to give me white tofu. I was told my parents died in an accident while I was in juvenile detention. There wasn't even a suicide note. I struggled for about a year after that. An ex-con who didn't graduate college. From juvenile detention, no less. Even if I tried to study again, my mediocre brain only reminded me that I was at an awkward age to enter university. And the label of 'ex-con' followed me everywhere. Not even simple part-time jobs would take me. It felt like I had already been erased from this world. And then at 25, I was kidnapped. By a strange man wearing a rabbit mask. It's been about half a year now. This man doesn't talk to me, nor does he touch me. He treats me like some kind of ornamental object. He only checks on me morning, noon, and night to give me meals and then leaves. I have no idea what he's thinking.