Hand Scribbles Fad.

Gizmo.

I, a child who had no place to lean, no one would cry over me even if I suddenly died. I am now fourteen years old, during my lifetime, I have often stolen food to survive. Ahh, I forgot to say that I'm not an orphan. I'm just a girl who was not expected by my father who was very rich and dignified. Being rich allows him to do anything even if it is in the form of crime, including desecrating the woman who became a servant in his house. Dignity, don't make me puke with that word. If he had even a little dignity in him, he would not have the heart to force my helpless mother. Once I was born, it was my fault and my mother's. Though his itchy groin asked to be stoned.

I've always lived in hiding, only my mother was warm to me. Unfortunately he did not live long, he left me alone in the middle of a family of crazy dignity. What my fate would be like my mother, don't joke I'm rejecting all that. I'm going to get out and escape this vicious cycle and live alone. If I had the power I'd destroy this rotten family.

Years passed, the peaceful life I felt had to be lost. I was found, that one word had made me able to die from fear. What can a child who has no power do, what I will end up like this. Not wanting to give up on the bad luck I might have, I raised a wooden stick that was near me. Put the stick out to the person in front of me, even though my hands are trembling. However, I was holding onto that stick like a wish that determined my survival.

I frowned confusedly as the person in front of me chuckled a little, I tilted my head cluelessly, but still remained vigilant. "Your expression is very funny" he said in a friendly-sounding voice.

I kept looking at him with a sharp look and did not let down my guard, I saw him raise his hand while chortling. "I'm sorry I surprised you" he said with a faint smile.

"I didn't mean it that way, really!" he continued, his eyes looked very honest when talking to me.

I heaved a sigh of relief, it seemed like he had no evil intentions like the others. There are usually two types of people who approach me, the other type is the one who wants to benefit from me, and the other type is more likely to someone who is weak and looking for an outlet of anger. "What's your name, little cat?" ask her in a relaxed tone.

I glared in disbelief, I knew I was a kid, but should I be called a little cat. "I'm not a little cat?!" I would like to shout, unfortunately I still know my place and status which is no higher than a slave.

"I think I asked wrongly. Should I introduce myself first?" I don't respond, it's up to him to do whatever it takes not to disturb or hurt me.

"Let me introduce myself, my name is Demian, just Demian for now," he said, scratching his cheek. Strange guy, I don't want to know his full name either.

"So, what's your name, man? I've said my name, you know," he continued, staring at me curiously.

"By the way, my name is Laras, young master." I looked down respectfully, just a glance it was discovered that he was a rich man's son, so I had to maintain politeness even though I didn't like it.

"Alright, we're friends from now on, Laras. Just call me Demian, not young master," he said in a cheerful tone.

"I can't" I said quickly.

"Hmm, I won't force you then. I just have to wait, don't I?!" his dream as he passed away after he said goodbye. I fixated, staring at his back that was getting further away. Does he not know who I am, or is this a new trick to play around. Made me melt and then made fun of myself when I was no longer alert.

A few years later, Demian must return to his father's place. He said goodbye with my face lowered, I smiled a little and said I would come with him and be a shield to protect him, my only precious friend.

We were getting closer, but I always suppressed the greed that wanted to overflow out of me. He's just my friend, I can't have the mind to get him even if he's so good to me. I was also close to him so that he could cross the path of flowering unhindered, and I asked for nothing in return.

"Laras, you know? My father, my father! She, she finally looked proudly at me!" I saw Demian running with a very cheerful face towards me.

I smiled a little. "Isn't that what you've always wanted, sir," I'm sincere.

She clucked softly at my call to her. "Ck, this is all just because I'm the only child left here" he muttered softly. There was a resentful tone from Demian's voice.

"But your hope comes true, be happy and enjoy it all!" I said. If he had known that I was cleaning up all the obstructions on the road he was going through, what would he have done. Will he thank me, or will he stay away from me and be afraid of me.

"You're right. I shouldn't have thought too much about what had passed. But ..., if I become a successor, will you remain by my side, Laras?"

"Sure sir, I will make sure that I will never leave or betray you in the future!"

The season passed, until Demian managed to become a successor in his family. I smiled a little at my friend who got what he wanted so much. I also kept my promise to be by his side at all times. Until one day, the truth that covered my eyes finally opened. He never thought of me as a friend, I was the only one who was sincere about it. He glanced at me just because of my talent, he poured out gentleness just to tame me and make myself a tool he could use without being asked.

The sweet words that were strung together and all the smiles that she gave were fakes that ensnared me, unfortunately I realized it too late. I realized that when the knife he was holding stabbed right in my heart, the one I thought of as a friend ended my life only because of the baseless slander some people threw.

I chuckled a little, enduring the pain. Blood dripped on the corner of my lips, I looked at him with an understanding look. "What's wrong, sir. It'sit's okay. I don't care if you want my life that is not much. However, why did master instead create such a complicated scenario like this? Try asking for it, sir. Then I will give it willingly." My breath was stingy, laboring to say the word I wanted to say because of the gaping wound in my stomach.

His face was unmoved, no expression changed in the slightest. My sincere words are unappreciated, perhaps even meaningless. "Knowing you makes me feel freedom, even if it's fake, but I won't regret every moment I've passed with you."

I smiled as I endured the pain I felt, I knew I had not much time left. "Goodbye, Demian!" I took my last breath to say his name. Despite all the tricks from the beginning, I wanted to assume he was sincerely waiting for me to call his name even if only once.

This is my story, an illegitimate child who met his death and was taken advantage of by the only person I considered a friend. It turns out that the reason I was born was only to be a tool until death picked me up. Regretting is useless, my age is closed. I hope you feel a little guilty even if it can't happen. May you remember me, the tool you used to achieve success, my friend.