Fifteen years ago, somewhere in Northern Africa…
Jeremy sat on the porch of the wooden building, staring out blankly into the distance. He brought his knees up to his chest and shivered as the blistering cold blew past him. He wore a simple wool shirt, frayed at the edges, and trousers of a similar quality.
He stretched his legs out and dug his toes into the snow right below where he sat.
He sighed and thought to himself, "I hope my fingers and toes freeze and snap off so I don't have to endure this torture anymore."
He took his feet out of the snow and brought his knees to his chest once more.
"I hate my family for forcing me here," Jeremy thought, "I understand the reasoning why now. Or at least I think I do. But that hasn't made me hate them less. In fact, it seems like that hatred is only growing."
Jeremy groaned and stepped off of the porch, cringing as it crunched under his feet.
