“Hey son, come here, I’ll teach you how to pray to our God.”– his mother
“Then I will let you play with this toy that I bought for you.” – his father
Then he asked about those things but the answers were vague to him. A crime had begun.
He’s growing and he had seen an idiot box with strange things that dance inside which he imitated and his parents gave him a spontaneous laugh with hands clapping for him. He reached the sixth year of his existence and a school was ready to teach him what to think about and what to put inside his head. He didn’t refuse. He’s also fond of watching foreign movies about zombies on that idiot box but didn’t recognize that he might be one of those walking dead.
“Great! I want to be one of the artists that played the role of zombies!” He told himself. He’s basing his wants according to others without knowing himself.
He reached his teenage life and thought that he’s free and happy, until one day, he got a low grade because he wasn’t able to commit terms into his memory the other night. His parents got disappointed because grades are their basis of success so he thought he’s a fool. He hated his parents and he chose to cheat together with his seemingly great friends in order to pass his exams. His grades had also been his way to get the material things that he desired.