The Fractured Inheritance

Nicholai was a boy lost in the world of pain and suffering. Life looked so unfair as he was caught up in the web of unfortunate circumstances. He has always been mistreated in his neighborhood.

Things weren't as bad as the look earlier on. What happened?

I was a twin who had a loving family. though my dad and mom weren't well to do, I still had the necessary things of life and was so content. My twin brother meant the world to me. We always laughed, played and shared a lot of things.

My father worked as a lab scientist in the city, while my mother was a small-scale trader who sold goods in our neighborhood. Despite the differences in their careers, my family was close-knit and loving. My brother and I were particularly close to my mother, who was the center of our world.

As children, my brother and I often helped my mother sell her goods on the highway. We would carry baskets of merchandise and assist her in making sales. This was an opportunity for us to bond with our mother, who was always patient and kind to us. She loved us so deeply and was so fond of us, always taking the time to listen and play with us.

Growing up, my mother's business was a major part of our lives. It was more than just a source of income for her - it was her passion. She was a hardworking and entrepreneurial woman who took pride in her work. Her dedication and resilience inspired my brother and me, and we learned a great deal from her.

Despite her busy schedule, my mother always found time to be there for us. She would come home from work exhausted, but would still make time to cook us dinner and tuck us into bed. Her love and care were unconditional, and she was the glue that held our family together.

Life was going smoothly for our family, until something unexpected and tragic happened. My father, who worked as a lab scientist, had gone to work as usual one day and never returned. This was unusual for my father, who always made a point to come back home every weekend to spend quality time with us.

Days passed by and my mother grew more and more worried. She tried calling his friends at work, but no one seemed to have any information about his whereabouts. My brother and I were frightened and didn't know what to do. Our father had never been gone for so long without a word, and we were starting to lose hope.

After a few weeks had passed, a group of men came to our house and delivered the devastating news - my father had died in a catastrophic explosion that had occurred at the lab. My mother was devastated. The shock of losing her husband was too much for her to handle. She cried every day and her health rapidly declined. Despite our efforts to take care of her, she died just three months later, leaving my brother and I alone in the world to suffer.

The loss of our parents was a heavy burden to bear. We were just kids, and we didn't know how to navigate the world without them. Our family was gone, and we were left to fend for ourselves. It was a cruel and unfair world, and we were struggling to make sense of it all.

But we didn't give up. We found solace in each other, and we leaned on each other for support.

After the loss of our parents, my sibling and I were faced with a difficult reality - we were now orphans, with no one to turn to for support. The grief was overwhelming, and it was difficult to imagine moving forward without the love and guidance of our parents.

However, we soon realized that we had no choice but to pick ourselves up and find a way to survive. We looked for small jobs to do to make ends meet, but our search was met with disappointment. All of our relatives turned their backs on us, and no one was willing to offer us a hand.

All they did was take everything my father had worked for. They took it all and left us with nothing. My younger sibling and I were just children at the time and we were powerless to stop them. We were faced with the reality of having to fend for ourselves, so we did what we had to do to survive. We roamed the streets, selling small trinkets and goods that we had collected or purchased with the little money we had. Our days were long and tiring, as we went from door to door, trying to make a sale.

At times, we were fortunate enough to find work at local farms or homes, where we would be hired for manual labor or other odd jobs. Despite the grueling work, we did what we had to do to put food on the table and keep a roof over our heads. The pay was meager, but every penny counted. We learned to be resourceful and frugal, stretching our earnings as far as they could go.

We encountered many challenges along the way, but we refused to give up. We were determined to overcome our circumstances and create a better future for ourselves. Our childhood was spent in a state of constant struggle, but through it all, we remained resilient. We persevered through the difficulties, always searching for ways to improve our situation.

But then, tragedy struck....

It was a day that changed my life forever. My brother and I were selling goods by the side of the highway, trying to make a living as we had always done. It was a routine that we were familiar with, one that had become a part of who we were.

But on this fateful day, everything changed. A car that had lost control of its brakes came careening towards us, and my brother, who was standing too close, was hit by the vehicle. The impact was devastating, and he was killed instantly. I was in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened. My brother, who had been my constant companion, my rock, was gone.

In the aftermath of the accident, I was surrounded by good Samaritans who offered their help. They called for an ambulance, and I was able to take my brother's body to the hospital. It was a surreal experience, one that felt like a nightmare from which I could not awaken.

At the hospital, the doctors confirmed what I already knew in my heart. My brother was dead. The reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks, and I was overwhelmed with grief. I felt lost and alone, as though a part of me had been ripped away. The world around me seemed to fade into the background as I struggled to come to terms with what had happened.

In the days that followed, I was consumed by grief. I could not eat or sleep, and I felt as though I was living in a fog. The world around me seemed to carry on as normal, but I was unable to find any sense of normalcy. I was filled with anger and sadness, and I struggled to find a way to cope with my loss.

As time went on, I slowly began to pick up the pieces of my life. I found comfort in the memories of my brother and the life we had shared. I found solace in the thought that my brother's death had not been in vain. I channeled my grief into a determination to live life to the fullest and to honor my brother's memory by doing so.

I will never forget that fateful day, and the loss of my brother will always be with me. But I have learned to carry on, to find joy in the little things, and to live each day to the fullest. The tragedy that struck me has become a part of my story, but it has not defined me. I am a survivor, and I will continue to live life with determination and grace, always remembering the love and laughter that my brother brought into my life.

The loss of my brother was devastating. He was not just my sibling, but also my best friend and the only family I had left after the passing of our parents. We were so close, and had a bond like no other. We shared everything from our deepest secrets to our biggest dreams and aspirations.

Our goal in life was to become doctors and give hope to the less privileged masses. We grew up in a community where access to quality health care was limited, and we saw first-hand the struggles that people faced in trying to receive adequate medical treatment. This fueled our passion for medicine, and we both worked hard to achieve our goal of becoming doctors.

My brother was more than just a brother to me. He was my confidant, my adviser, and my source of inspiration. We would spend hours discussing our plans and strategies on how we could make a difference in the lives of others. He had a heart of gold, and was always willing to help those in need.

But, just like that, all our plans and aspirations were shattered. My brother was taken from me too soon, and I was left feeling lost and alone. I mourned his loss for days, unable to come to terms with the fact that he was gone. The thought of never being able to share another joke or moment with him was too much to bear.

His passing left a void in my life that could never be filled, but I was determined to honor his memory by fulfilling the goals we have set together. I know that it won't be easy, but I am confident that with his spirit guiding me, I can make a difference in the lives of others and fulfill our shared dream of giving hope to the less privileged masses.

I felt like life was unjust and unfair. I couldn't understand why I had to endure so much pain and suffering. I felt like I had done nothing to deserve the hardships I was facing. My future seemed bleak and I saw no reason to keep living.

Suicide crossed my mind more than once. I was in a dark place, feeling hopeless and helpless. But every time I considered taking my own life, my mother's words echoed in my head,

"No matter the circumstances, always try to be great." These words of wisdom, spoken by the person I loved the most, gave me a reason to keep going.

I knew that my mother had faced her struggles, but she never let them define her. She was a fighter and had always encouraged me to be the same. Her unwavering spirit and resilience had always been an inspiration to me. I realized that if I gave up, I would be letting her down.

I couldn't find a specific person to blame for all what had happened to me.

Would it be my parents fault for leaving us in these wicked world? Or its the fault of the company my Dad worked for taking him away from us so early.

Answering these questions that ran in my head were as impossible as passing a Carmel through the eyes of the needle.

After a few weeks, I was a little bit better to get back to work so I did. As I worked, the fear of being a failure continued tormenting me day in day out.

What if I let my parents down?

What if I don't become as successful as they all wanted me to be?

All these questions clouded my thoughts daily. I couldn't concentrate anymore at work. A part of me had just died so adjusting to the new way of things was hard for me.

My uncle whom hijacked all my dads properties, reached out to me to come and reside in his house. I wanted to decline the offer, but that would have been a really stupid move. I have lived on the streets ever since my dads house was taken, so I knew what it felt like to be homeless. I moved in with my uncle for the time being.

My uncle worked long hours at a factory in the city, so he was hardly ever home. This gave his wife, my aunt, ample time to turn me into a household servant and punching bag. I was treated like a slave, subjected to a life of labor from dawn until dusk. My aunt was cruel and abusive, constantly calling me names and making me feel worthless.

Every day was a struggle, as I was forced to do all the household chores, from cleaning and cooking to washing and ironing. The physical labor was exhausting, and my aunt was never satisfied. She would find fault in everything I did, criticizing and belittling me at every turn. The emotional abuse was just as bad, if not worse, leaving me feeling hopeless and alone.

To make matters worse, I was unable to have the luxury of comfort anymore. My aunt had brainwashed my uncle into believing that I was a "fruitless investment" and that it was a waste of time and money to spend on me. This was a devastating blow, as it looked as though I was stripped of my childhood and my future. I was reduced to nothing more than a servant in their home.

My peers were successful in their careers, working for top-notch companies located in the city center. They earned substantial salaries and had built a reputation for themselves as skilled and competent professionals. They were living the dream, enjoying financial stability and the recognition that came with their success.

Wish I could say the same thing for myself, I have finally become a shadow of myself. I have been on a job hunt for months, looking for any job I could use to sustain myself since my uncle has refused to lend a helping hand.

At the beginning of my life, I faced a lot of challenges and obstacles. My future seemed uncertain and bleak, as if it were a broken piece of glass that could not be put back together. Many might have thought that I was destined for a life of poverty and hardship.

As a result of the way I was treated by those around me, I grew up feeling isolated and alone. I was often seen as an outsider, and this only added to my feelings of loneliness. Over time, these feelings grew stronger, and I became increasingly afraid of being seen as worthless and unimportant. This fear consumed me day after day, and it felt like it was never going to go away.

But I was determined. I didn't want to be defined by what circumstances I found myself or what people said about me. I felt the only way to make an impact was to be successful and I was determined to do that at all cost