Help, I'm Dying.

Being unwanted while growing did more harm than good to the boy, although none of it could be seen. Those emotions and feelings had been passed down to him, even if his mother didn't mean for it to be. So his bringing up would be one that would surprise most, but that was neither here nor there. All he knew was that everything was changing, as he was brought out of the warmth and into a shock of cold. Laying utterly still for a few moments, it was several heartbeats until he cried, as if unsure that it would be answered. But he was grabbed and clean, and milk became all that he cared for. He was unaware that the rumble against him was his mothers growls, or that he was the only one who had been brought into this world. Just milk, just warmth. Love? No. That was something the boy would not understand for a long while.