I don’t know anything.
I don’t know anything about the outside world, about human warmth, about my parents’ love, about words, about food, about clothes, about joy, anger, sorrow, and self-expression.
My mother left this world due to a difficult childbirth, and as a result, my father never smiled at me, gave me nothing but violence, locked me in a private room, gave me only a small piece of bread that was too hard for me to eat and a glass of water a day, and kept me in confinement.
The people of the city only had negative feelings toward me because of my father’s every action as a child of the devil and an abomination.
The only ones who were kind to me and taught me many things and fun things were a cat with a long tail and a crow bird with three legs.
Then one day, through the machinations of the townspeople and my father, I was about to be executed by an assassin by way of some important person.
And the person who appeared in front of me, the cat, and the bird was not an assassin, but a scary-looking, very strong older brother.
I’m nothing, I’m worthless, I’m ・・・・ just a little thing, but why does everyone hate me?
Why do people hate me? Should I not have been born in this world?