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Then—

Creeeaaak.

The door opened.

He didn’t lift his head.

But he whispered to himself, his voice cold and quiet—

“I know who it is.”

And he was right.

“Tch. Look at you again.” said a mocking voice.

Raven—his second brother—stepped inside, arms crossed.

“You filthy little mistake.”

Raven tossed a half-eaten piece of bread in front of him.

“I’ll give you my leftovers. Be grateful.”

But before Ryan could move, a colder voice came from behind Raven.

“No. He doesn’t deserve that.”

It was Ivan, the eldest brother.

His eyes were filled with disgust.

“He better starve to death.”

And he turned, walking away like Ryan wasn’t even human.

Ryan didn’t speak.

He didn’t cry.

He just stayed silent.

He had learned that speaking only brought more punishment.

Raven smirked as he stood at the doorway.

“See? I’m the good one,” he chuckled.

“Showing sympathy to a cursed child.”

He winked mockingly at Ryan and added one last thing before leaving:

“Remember—you owe me.”

And then the door closed again.

Leaving Ryan alone.

In silence.

In hunger.

In the dark.

🌙

It was already midnight.

The world was asleep.

But not him.

His stomach growled again… and again…

Louder than his voice ever dared to be.

But Ryan stayed quiet,

his lips trembling,

his eyes already wet.

Because he knew—

If he made a sound,

If he asked for food,

He wouldn’t just be ignored…

He would get punished again.

Longer.

Harsher.

Crueler.

So he sat in the cold,

hugging his thin frame,

pretending that hunger was just part of being alive.

Pretending the pain meant he still existed.

And even then…

No.one came

Silence returned.

Hunger remained.

And for a while,

Ryan just stared at the piece of bread.

Cold.

Dirty.

Already bitten.

It sat in front of him like a cruel joke.

But his stomach growled again.

And his hands, weak and trembling,

slowly reached out.

He picked it up—

and bit into it.

It was stale.

Dry.

Tasted like nothing.

But he kept chewing… slowly.

And then—

the tears came.

Silently.

One by one.

They streamed down his cheeks

as he swallowed piece after piece.

As if every bite

was proof he was still human.

Still alive.

Still hurting.

His shoulders shook.

But no sob escaped.

Just the sound of quiet chewing—

and the soft patter of tears

falling on cold stone.

Because even this—

this cruel, leftover bread—

was the kindest thing he had been given in days.

And it broke him.

He cried,

not because it was enough…

But because it had to be.

Because he had no choice

but to survive

in a world

that kept trying to erase him.

The last bite slipped from his hand.

His fingers were shaking too much.

It fell to the floor—

crumbled beside his bare feet.

Ryan didn’t pick it up.

He just sat there, his arms curled around his knees,

forehead resting against them,

eyes shut tight as the tears refused to stop.

Not loud.

Not broken.

Just… leaking silently.

The kind of cry you don’t make noise for.

Because you’re afraid someone will hear.

And punish you again.

His shoulders trembled,

his breathing uneven.

And in that cold, empty room,

he whispered to no one—

“…I don’t want to feel hungry anymore…”

His voice cracked at the end.

Barely a sound.

But it was real.

That was the first thing he said in days.

And yet…

No answer came.

No warmth followed.

Just silence.

Just the ache in his chest.

Just the familiar feeling of being forgotten.

The moonlight from the small window stretched across the floor,

reaching him like it was trying to touch him—

But even that light

couldn’t warm him.

So he closed his eyes,

held his breath,

and hoped that sleep would come…

Before the hunger returned again.

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