There are some people that walk this Earth very differently from the rest of us. They have abilities and intuition where most don't. Walter is one of these people.
He came into this world not unlike any other living entity. He burst from his mother's womb with a ferocity, then was swaddled in soft cloth and placed in a dark, and cold room. There he learned his first lesson in life: Loneliness. As he lay there, staring at the ceiling and clenching the now chilled blanket that surrounded his tiny body, he started to feel a pain deep within himself that would continue grow as life wore on.
No one came back for Walter once he was alone. He waited days until a nurse on the graveyard shift discovered him softly moaning to himself, his face and body white from lack of nourishment. She rushed over to him and held him in her arms, cooing to him with tears streaming down her face. This is when Walter learned his next life lesson: Compassion.
The years passed, and Walter grew into an infant. His mother, not his maternal one, but the nurse that saved him on the day of his birth, kept him hidden in her apartment in upstate New York. She would come home at 11:00 o'clock at night and feed him. Then every morning, just as light began to stream into his room, she would come in, kiss Walter on the forehead, and leave. For the next eighteen hours Walter would busy himself with things that he found in the apartment, such as the television set and deck of cards. At dinner, he would peek into the pantries in the kitchen and eat whatever wasn't stale or rotten. Around 8 o'clock he would crawl into the spare room, wrap himself into a cocoon of soft blankets, and fall asleep in the corner.
He came into this world not unlike any other living entity. He burst from his mother's womb with a ferocity, then was swaddled in soft cloth and placed in a dark, and cold room. There he learned his first lesson in life: Loneliness. As he lay there, staring at the ceiling and clenching the now chilled blanket that surrounded his tiny body, he started to feel a pain deep within himself that would continue grow as life wore on.
No one came back for Walter once he was alone. He waited days until a nurse on the graveyard shift discovered him softly moaning to himself, his face and body white from lack of nourishment. She rushed over to him and held him in her arms, cooing to him with tears streaming down her face. This is when Walter learned his next life lesson: Compassion.
The years passed, and Walter grew into an infant. His mother, not his maternal one, but the nurse that saved him on the day of his birth, kept him hidden in her apartment in upstate New York. She would come home at 11:00 o'clock at night and feed him. Then every morning, just as light began to stream into his room, she would come in, kiss Walter on the forehead, and leave. For the next eighteen hours Walter would busy himself with things that he found in the apartment, such as the television set and deck of cards. At dinner, he would peek into the pantries in the kitchen and eat whatever wasn't stale or rotten. Around 8 o'clock he would crawl into the spare room, wrap himself into a cocoon of soft blankets, and fall asleep in the corner.
