The more Bradley read, the deeper his frown became, etching lines of disbelief and morbid curiosity onto his borrowed, handsome face.
"Dear diary, it's Bradley again,
I got bullied once again because of my looks! Could you believe that?
I have been in the orphanage since I was a baby, I don't remember and know who are my parents but who cares anyway. I was a very well behaved child.
As I grew up, I was told that I was really handsome and would probably be more handsome when I become an adult by the orphanage caretakers, even Lady Sara said that as well. Even when I looked in the mirror I saw that I was really the real deal, so I'm not narcissistic."
"Can't deny that though," Bradley muttered, running a hand through the obsidian curls. The face staring back from his memory was the real deal, unnervingly so.
"Whenever I walked around the orphanage, every girl would blush and whisper to their friends—that made me very happy. However, the other boys didn't like it, telling me that I'm nothing without my pretty face—i didn't care about their opinions.
One night, I was called to this female caretaker's room. Her name was Lara."
"I don't like where this is going," Bradley frowned, a cold knot tightening in his stomach.
"She was in her twenties, she had black hair and blue eyes with a body that you couldn't really look away."
"Damn, bro is already lusting at 12? Hormones, I guess," Bradley chuckled, a dry, humorless sound in the silent room.
"She called me to her room one night and said that she had a very nice reward for me for being a very good boy.
Yes, I was groomed. And I enjoyed it. Technically not groomed because it was not against my consent, but yeah."
"What the fuck?" Bradley's voice was a sharp crack in the stillness. "How the hell can you enjoy being groomed at 12?" He stared at the page in disbelief. The boy's nonchalance was chilling.
"No, no, don't get me wrong, who wouldn't want to lose their virginity to a hot older woman?
I would do it in any time of the day!"
"Freaky ass motherfucker," Bradley clicked his tongue, a wave of revulsion mixing with a strange, grudging understanding. He paused, the diary resting on his knees. If it was him, would he have minded? A hot older woman, attention, touch…
He thought for a bit, honestly.
Honestly I don't know, I never experienced the touch of a girl in my past life—
The realization hit him like a physical blow. He froze, his hands flying to his head, fingers digging into his scalp. A sharp, psychic pain lanced through his temples.
"Fuck! I died still a virgin!" he roared, slamming his fist down on the wooden table. The impact jarred up his arm, and the candle flame guttered wildly, casting frantic shadows.
The floor groaned in protest as he leaned back in the wooden chair, the legs scraping against the boards. He let out a long, ragged sigh, the fight draining out of him.
"Welp, it is what it is. I never lost in my past life when it came to academic, sports or martial arts, so not losing my virginity was inevitable." He muttered the words like a mantra, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "I never lose."
The memory surfaced, unbidden: his friend Kirby, laughing, saying he wouldn't mind being groomed by a hot woman. A genuine, if faint, smile touched Bradley's lips for a second.
"You both probably would get along."
His face then soured, the brief warmth extinguished by a colder reality. "I hope he's doing well..., I wonder if he already found out that I'm dead. Sorry, my friend."
He shook his head, physically trying to dislodge the ghosts of his past. Leaning forward, the chair creaking under his weight, he continued reading.
"After that amazing night, I continued my normal life as usual : Being the good boy as always, getting taught about the history of our world which is full of magic and on how we had to go through a trial in order to awaken magical abilities by the orphanage teachers."
Bradley's eyes went wide, the previous discomfort forgotten. "A world of magic?" A slow, genuine smile spread across his face. "Being reincarnated might not be so bad at all." Excitement bubbled in his chest. "I just wonder if it's gonna be like my supernatural abilities that I had in my past life. I hope not, because I wanna freaking fly on a broomstick or some shit. Actual magic."
"The only difference was that every night I had to go to Lara's room to satisfy her desires—she was a hell of a screamer. I always wondered how did we never get caught—lucky I guess."
"Bro was clapping cheeks every night—crazy." Bradley laughed, a real one this time, the sound echoing oddly in the small, dark room. He glanced down at his pants. "And of course she screamed because of this monster." He chuckled again, the absurdity of the situation momentarily overpowering the horror.
He flipped through a series of blank pages, his irritation growing with each rustling leaf. "Why the hell does he keep leaving blank pages?!" A vein throbbed on his forehead. Finally, near the end, he found more writing.
"Dear diary, I became a womananizer!"
Bradley's eyebrows quivered. "The hell? What kind of title is that?" He moved the candle closer, the flickering light illuminating the messy, excited script.
"I started dating different girls in the orphanage—secretly of course, unless I wanted to get killed."
"It was about damn time—with that face, any boy would most likely turn into a womanizer." Bradley nodded in agreement, a cynical part of him admiring the kid's hustle.
Most of them were older than me because I didn't like girls my age—the older the tastier. I don't know if it was because my first time was with Lara but I'm glad if it was.
"Hahahaha." Bradley's laughter echoed again, loud and unhinged. "This guy definitely had taste, I too prefer girls older than me but still... getting groomed at 12 is just fucking crazy."
"Since I was dating many girls, I couldn't be seen hanging with most of them or else I'd be fucked, especially, Lara, I hid from her that I started getting involved with other girls, she could get quite possessive y'know..."
"Probably a yandere," Bradley whispered, the term from his old life feeling strangely apt here.
"Well, she will probably never find out."
The writing on that page ended there.
"Oh, buddy," Bradley sighed, a pang of grim foreboding replacing his amusement. "You just jinxed yourself, didn't you?"
He flicked to the next page. It was blank.
He flicked faster, the pages whipping past his thumb until he reached the very end of the diary. There was one final entry.
Bradley's breath hitched. The page was a mess, stained with large, dark splotches of dried blood. The handwriting was a frantic, trembling scrawl, the letters jagged and broken, slanting wildly across the page. It was the script of someone on the very edge.
"February 19, Year 1200.
Dear diary, I should have never gotten myself involved with other girls and even with Lara. Today was the worst day of my life."
Some of the words were blurry, smudged by moisture. "It looks like he cried while writing this," Bradley murmured, his earlier laughter now a cold, hard lump in his throat.
"The months passed by peacefully and I was finally thirteen—old enough to attempt the awakening trial which was tomorrow.
I had gone to Lara's room as usual but today was different—she looked weird when she opened the door of her room for me but she smiled instead, though it didn't reach her eyes. I felt some kind of gut feeling telling me to turn back but—I was a horny bastard so I ignored it and entered the room."
"That was the worst mistake I ever made in my life."