My mother has a claim to fame just as my father will have one day, too. But what does it matter? I have neither father or mother, and I will never find myself a claim to fame. I know this because I am the son of nobody, the bringer of nothing - nothing good, at least. I will enter the world covered in blood and sin and I imagine it is much the same way in which I will leave it. I never wanted to leave the womb, never wanted to enter the world but like my mother, it does not want me there, here, within it.

I do not even try to fight the cold or against the hard surface below me. I simply accept it. Even now, blind and ignorant to the world, some part of me knows that this is the way it is supposed to be; I do not get to feel the warmth of my mother, nor feel the calming sensation of her tongue down my spine. I will feel nothing of her, know nothing of her - not even a name, not even a smell. All I will feel is the feeling of teeth around my tiny body, too weak to refuse them as they toss me about as they would a mere toy. Only then do I cry out, when I am shoved against the warmth of another I do not know. The sound of her heart is wrong, and despite her tenderness, I do not know this woman. This is not my home. I try, though, try to escape the confines of the warmth - I am so weak - pathetic! - though, my body not yet ready for such a thing and I fall short before once more being shoved back to my starting point. It doesn't make sense and I scream, scream until my body tells me I must hush - mother, mother, mother!

I will grow in time to see the differences around me; I will see my sister and brother and I will wonder. I will wonder why it is I am not like them, why it is I do not feel like them. I will wonder why my mother looks at me different, and why my father speaks quietly beneath his breath. I know this because even now I feel alone in this world. Will I grow to feel as my father does? Will I grow to be as my mother? I have no name, no father, no mother. I am... nothing, a nobody.

What I do not know is that I will never know her, will never have the chance to call her mother with love in my voice. I am not wanted, not part of her world and I never will be. I am nothing and nobody. I have no father and I have no mother; without that, what could I possibly be?