If you look upon my emaciated form, you may be able to guess the outline of my story. You might be able to see that I am a being stripped of identity, stripped of self-respect, but something you won’t be able to guess is the pain I’ve been through. You can’t know the desolation and hunger I feel every day. You don’t know what’s it like to hear “Dinner’s ready” from the other room and know that it, in fact, means “dinner’s gone.’
I’ve never made it to the dinner table in time to actually eat. By time I’m alerted dinner time has come, it’s too late; I get to the table and everyone is undoing their pants and licking their greasy lips. If there are scraps to eat, I consider it a bounty. I’m lucky to have spare crusts to nibble at or stripped bones to suck on. I’ve never actually had a plate of food in front of me. By the time news of dinner gets relayed to me, there’s never anything left.
I’ve been made a fool of so many times. From the other room, I’ll hear, “Hey, we have dinner in here,” or “We’re almost done with dinner.” and I’ll rush in but never in time to get so much as a morsel. I miss it every time. Even hearing the word dinner has become a mocking torment for me.
If you’re thinking that I should just eat a larger lunch, then you clearly don’t understand how hard it is for a person like me to make lunch plans. I’ve never been able to arrange a lunch for myself; I always forget to make plans and miss it. On top of all this, I simply sleep through breakfast every morning, I’m simply too weak to get up in time. Dinner is the only option I have at this point and no one ever gives me timely warning of it.
You may have noticed that I never introduced myself or indicated my name; don’t expect me to. In all truth, I don’t know what my name is or if I even have one. People usually refer to me as you, or skinny guy. Identity is an upper tier luxury, a luxury that isn’t applicable to one whose most basic needs aren’t even being met. So, as for names, refer to me as gaunt fellow, slim man, &c &c. I don’t have any concerns of vanity; you can call me whatever you want, just don’t call me late for dinner.