The Little Boy's Saga

[FairBlueLove]

Short stories like that - I like to visualize them as comics strips - which go directly to the heart. We need more of them. Thank you BLueRibbbon!

Incidentally, a couple of weeks before you started this thread I tried to create storyboards for comics strips with time progressions as the one you posted, using local LLMs. I was not 100% satisfied, because they were not deep/incisive enough. But one of the final messages they ended with captured my attention, and became my present signature.

[BLueRibbon]

This content is hidden by a spoiler as it may be distressing.

31 years old (2)

Spoiler!

I wake up early trembling with fear,
Take a look around my home,
Will it be the final time?

I put on my suit,
Meticulously pressed,
Ready for the showdown.

Take a taxi to court,
Arrive with my head bowed,
But I have no reason to be ashamed.

Cameras flash as riffraff jeer,
Screaming like I'm a killer,
I should slit their fucking throats!

The inevitable conclusion of the hunt,
To be foisted upon me by a pompous cunt,
For a country that should be burned to the ground.

[Aspire6]

This content is hidden by a spoiler as it may be distressing.

31 years old (2)

Spoiler!

Take a taxi to court,
Arrive with my head bowed,
But I have no reason to be ashamed.

Cameras flash as riffraff jeer,
Screaming like I'm a killer,
I should slit their fucking throats!

(specific part quoted)
All over a few nudist vids... and you're [character is] somehow worse than a killer in their eyes. Met with an appropriate response fueled by anger and fear, a threat thrown back.

Thanks for another entry!

[BLueRibbon]

This content is hidden by a spoiler as it may be distressing.

31 years old (3)

Spoiler!

I wake up in agony,
With gashes and bruises,
Coughing up blood.

The door left unlocked,
Could have been anyone,
Nobody cares.

The inmates saw nothing,
And nor did the guards,
They snicker and sneer.

A doctor does the stitches,
Though I cannot trust him,
He's one of them.

My sentence is short,
But that's just the beginning,
As a certified leper.

Without any future,
And nothing to lose,
One path remains.

[BLueRibbon]

1. This content is highly distressing. It should not be read by anyone in a fragile mental state.
2. Please do not attempt to copy the protagonist. This is a work of fiction, and going down the same road in real life would lead to extremely negative outcomes.

33 years old

Spoiler!

Finally released from that claustrophobic cage,
Having sat and stewed and festered,
The smoldering has risen to an inferno of sheer rage.

It is not but an awful few,
Not a nazi here or there,
But a culture of evil,
A plague of lies,
Dancing to a tune of torture.

Out of prison but on the register,
The evil oppressors still have my measure,
There is no way forward,
No chance to recover,
Nothing left.

The clouds close in,
The walls get smaller,
The air I breathe suffocates.

Doctors don't want to listen,
Only to scream and condemn,
They have no fucking idea!
They have no solution!
Pain or prison are the paths we may choose!

Though that is not entirely true,
For there is another,
To blow their whole narrative apart.
The carnival is tonight,
It will be quite the spectacle,
They will feel my pain.

[BLueRibbon]

1. The final poem is distressing and graphic. It is aimed at adults only, and should not be read by anyone in a fragile mental state.
2. Please do not attempt to copy the protagonist. This is a work of fiction, and his behavior should not be taken as morally correct nor productive.
3. To those who may be concerned, I am personally in a pretty good mental state. I got hugs from two super cute boys yesterday! I hope they become YFs!

33 years old (2)

Spoiler!

I walk down the road among the twinkling lights,
Families laugh and scream in excitement,
Their joy radiates through the cold December air.

But the happiness and love they feel will never be mine,
For I am destined to live under a weight of crushing oppression,
To forever exist in the shadow of their feelings for a victimless crime.

I buy a bacon sandwich,
A cup of mulled wine for the final time,
Feel its warmth as I swallow,
But nothing warms like before.

With muted emotions I reach for my backpack,
Is this really it?
Something I've needed to do for quite some time.

I grip the plastic handle with all my strength,
Nobody sees a thing through their tears of joy,
Those tears will be quite different very soon.

The woman ahead will be my first victim,
Random perhaps?
But these people are all the same.

I walk up behind her,
Grab her hair to twist her around,
And stab her in the chest.

I twist the knife repeatedly in a fit of rage,
She screams in pure terror,
This is for what she has done to me!

An old man rushes out,
Freezes in horror,
He will be next!

I push him against a wall,
Lift up his old and wrinkly head
And slit his pitiful frail throat.

His warm and sticky blood runs down my arm,
I feel ecstasy as I revel in the pleasure of revenge,
For what all these cunts have done!

As I turn to square my next victim,
I feel a thud across my head,
I fall to the ground.

I leave behind terror and destruction,
As I'm carried to the ambulance,
With its flickering, dying lights.