I, William Lewis have lived a miserable boring life on this planet.  I have had very little excitements. I have lived alone. I have had to spend my life in a small little cottage in the slums of Northern Manchester. I have had to survive on the money my parents passed onto me after they died. I was only 2years old. After the death of my parents I was moved to my Aunty Anna’s house. She had no time to comfort, love or help a small little toddler like myself. She would leave me, at 5years old, alone in her house while she left to go to some unimaginable place for two to three days at a time. I had no schooling but taught myself how to read from books, the books that my parents had left me. Later on I slowly began to learn how to write. I had no friends over to play. I never met any of the other kids in the street that I lived in. They had never said a word to me just stared. I never had birthdays because I didn’t have a birthday. I didn’t know what day I was born. I was never born. I was brought into this cruel world for an unknown punishment. I would cry myself to sleep knowing that nobody loved me. That nobody cared about me. That nobody had felt what I have felt my whole life.

At the age of 18 I found myself alone again. My aunty had passed away. Now that I was assumingly 18 years of age, the house was in my possession. I left the house how she left it. I found some money in a drawer in her bedroom. I had only these few rolls of paper to live my whole life on. I went outside and looked back on the house. There were no good memories to think of. I couldn’t cry anymore. There was no point. I went out of the house that I had been living in, went out of the poorly looked after property that I had spent 16 miserable years in and I sat on the pavement. I stared into the distance. I could see other houses. They had nicely trimmed lawns, with neatly trimmed hedges. There were clean windows and nicely painted roofs. There were colours, sounds, and happiness. There were things out there that I would never experience. There were two children walking down the street towards me. They were laughing. They had sweets in their mouths and toys in their hands. They looked as if they were having the best time in the world. They looked happy. When they were about 10feet away they fell silent. I could feel them just staring at me as they walked past. I didn’t look at them. It made would have made me feel worse. I just stared into the distance and tried to look back on my life and find a time when I was happy. When everything was just the way I wanted it to be. A time when I had laughed, or when I had felt like I belonged on this planet, a time when I had felt at home.

I didn’t find one. I had no excitements in my life. No adventures. No games. No fun. No friends.

My life had been an utter waste of time.