There is no starvation worse than starvation of the soul.
He begged for love in places where love was spat upon. He cried for help in the dark alleys where help was a creature of mythical lore. He screamed for strength in dead of night where strength is a figment of the imagination. His soul was being starved, second by second, day by day, year by year. He can feel himself turning into a monster, one without a soul.
One day, he knows he will wake up and his soul will be no more. A stranger will have taken hold.
Word Count: 100