Day 11

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"AUGHH!!!" I flailed erratically in my bed, jittery with spiky pain that dug into my throat. My voice felt coarsened with the burning acid of my vomit and heavy with the viscous state of my blood.

Frozen.

The cold air touched my insides as I took in an unusual amount of air with a deep breath. It brought me to my realization.

I'd died, and woken up again.

I sighed and fell back into my comfy pillows. I just wanted to stay in bed and sleep forever. I didn't want to proceed with the hell that awaited me, that overtook me, and that destroyed me, mentally.

"Imbecilic…" My body jolted back upwards. As the thought of sleeping through my death became more apparent, so did the self-image of an imbecile with my face. I couldn't do something so pathetic. Not me, the heir to Hattum Enterprise.

"Tsk!" I swung my door open and nearly tumbled down the stairs, not surprised to see the orange and note that sat on my table.

{ Your father and I will be tending to business priorities in Xavier District for the next month or so. We don't know exactly when we'll be back, but you can take care of yourself anyways. I've bought enough fruits to last you a daily breakfast for at least a month. But they only had oranges available at the store we shop at. It's okay though, you like oranges anyways, right? Eat healthy while we're gone.

- Mother }

I slammed the note into the table, and it shook the orange which rolled right off. "Where the fuck are you, mother? Father…?" Tears began to roll down my face. I hated to admit it, but I needed them. Where were they when I needed them? They were never there. Never around. From the moment I was born, they'd only ever looked at me as a means of boosting their business. I've been nothing more than a heir to continue their hierarchy of expansion over the businesses in the district.

I scratched at my cheek, and it bled.

Maybe if my parents hadn't gone on this business trip, none of this would be happening. If they were here, then maybe something could be done about my perpetrator.

Just then, a shadow loomed over me.

"But there you are…" I sighed, which convulsed into a tight gulp of fear. "You always come to me at the WORST TIMES!!!" I turned around and opened my palm.

SHANK—!

"ARGH!!" The black masked-man impaled his scissors directly into my palm, which I'd opened subconsciously instead of maintaining a fist to punch him. It was weird, I didn't understand why I'd done that. But now it resulted in my own injury, which would now—

SHLRK—!

—lead to my death by blood.

"Hueghh…" My serrated throat withdrew my lifeline, and out spewed blood like every other time I'd died. I was already used to the sight that came with death, but one thing I'd never ever get used to, was the pain that came with it.

Death.