Ever since he became an orphan he always had dreams; more like nightmares because they caused irrational fear. "A bright green light coming towards me, a blurry man holding me, a ripping sensation across my entire body. The light the same color as my eyes.’ It makes no sense. He assumed that ever since that night "it’ happened. That ripping sensation shredded his sense of self, happiness, and hope. It feels like a piece of himself is missing and his other emotions rushed in to fill in the gap; boredom, despair, self-loathing. He felt empty except for the small amount of vacancy that those feelings have taken. Nothing excites him, makes him feel childlike joy, and the world seems like it was washed of colors. Even so, with the mutilation his "self’ has endured, there is still a pulsing light in the very corner of the darkness. A sliver of hope in the vast emptiness. This light provided comfort and safety during the many years of his abuse, and it only allows him to feel good emotions when it feels like someone, or something has approved of what he was doing. It was mostly when he was doing revenge. He would have thought he only got happiness from hurting others, especially those who have wronged him, but it had flooded him with feelings of frantic assurances, underline worry, and hope when he tried to commit suicide. It was a few months after the torture and he remembered it vividly. "Silent, salty tears were streaming down his face and he was staring at the cupboard ceiling with a small bread knife to his throat. Quite suddenly, a barrage of what he can only describe as "happy’ feelings invaded him. The knife clattered on the laminated ground when it dropped from his hand, leaving a faint indent with tiny droplets of blood on his pale neck.’ He knew that the emotions didn’t come from himself. It was a mystery.