Emerys was different. Well, he felt different—maybe. His parents thought everything was fine, that his life was all light, heavenly, sunshine and rainbows. But ever since Emerys was a young child, he had never truly felt accomplishment—at least, not the satisfaction of it. He had plenty of “friends,” a big house, wealthy parents. He had everything most people dreamed of, yet he felt no joy in any of it, no need for it.

Emery’s friends were like pets—like his pet snake, in fact. Because that’s what they were: snakes. “Oh, Emerys, would you be a dear and get this for me?” “Emerys, my best bud! There you are, would you mind calling your parents to fund the game?”

Emerys handed out his parents’ money for them, but deep down, he yearned to be needed—not for the paper bills or a cheque, just him.

He had always felt unseen. Maybe I want too much? he wondered, night after night, lying on the balcony floor, staring up at the stars. The cold air brushed against his skin, the moonlight soft on his pale face.

People often dehumanised Emerys, simply because he came from privilege. His talents were dismissed, his well-being ignored, all because his parents were rich. And even with all that, his parents didn’t seem to care. What more could they possibly want from him? He had given them everything, until the life was drained from him, taken and never returned.

His fingers glided along the ropes of the bridge as gracefully as they did over piano keys. Shouldn’t he have felt resentment? “I’ve never felt satisfied. Why is that? Am I not worthy of the feeling of accomplishment?” he whispered, his breath turning to white smoke in the frigid air. “Others will always be far greater than me. I am so, so tired.” His voice trembled.

He looked down at the water below; still, silent, cold. Just as he was about to let go of the ropes and embrace what he hoped would be a peaceful end, he heard something—someone.