The moons were still shining brightly outside.
Break kept reading the diary attentively, flipping after every page.
"We did the deed for a couple of hours and then rested."
"Were you a sex demon or something?" Bradley asked in disbelief." What kind of stamina did a 13-year-old have to do that for hours?"
"As we lay down on the bed next to each other, Lara asked me if she wanted to try something new—she wanted to tie me up on the bed."
"Freaky ass shit." Bradley murmured.
"I should've noticed that something was off, but my dumbass agreed. She tied both my legs and arms to the bed with a rope.
As soon as she finished tying me up, I had thought we would get into it; however, the smile she had on her face vanished, and her face turned cold, sending chills down my spine."
"I guess she found out about his deeds with other girls and didn't like it at all—but fucking hell, tying you up with a rope is crazy, I can kind of already guess where this is going..."
"She said that she had found out that I had been dating other girls in the orphanage—she had found out from the boys, apparently. Those fucking jealous piss of shit told her."
"I told her that it was a lie and that they were just jealous, but she didn't believe me because apparently she had seen me hanging around with one of the girls.
She opened a drawer and took out something. At first I couldn't see what it was because it was a bit dark in the room, but then I saw it—it was a scissor."
Bradley felt chills going down his spine from reading that sentence.
"F-fucking hell, there's no way she's going to cut his—"
He kept reading.
"I first didn't understand what she was going to use the scissors for, but then, when she said that I needed to get punished, I realized the meaning—I was freaking butt naked.
I tried to untie the ropes, but they were too freaking tight. As she approached me, I begged and begged to the point of starting to cry to stop whatever she was thinking of doing with those scissors."
"Now this is creepy as fuck."
"She moved her hand and gently caressed my face. 'It was your fault,' she said. The hand that had the scissor moved down my waist slowly toward my waist."
"I begged and begged, saying I would never do that again, but the crazy bitch didn't fucking listen. I tried to scream for help, but she tied my mouth with a rag."
"She cut it, she fucking cut it off!"
"Fucking hell."
Bradley could feel the pain and hatred in that sentence.
"Holy shit, that's why you should never mess with yanderes!" He spoke with fear about what he just read.
Bradley quickly checked inside his pants and then sighed in relief.
Still there.
He continued reading.
"I screamed in pain as I looked at my separated member on the bed. She stopped the bleeding and healed the wound with a magic spell. She told me to leave the room and never come to her again—she said that if I told anyone what happened, no one would believe a 12-year-old."
"I burst out of her room crying and went to my room. My life was so ruined, how the hell was I supposed to live without a dick?! I'm fucking eunuch now."
"Now that's what you get when you decide to play with different women—women are scary." Bradley shivered on the chair.
"So now here I am, I can get my dick fixed, but for that I need a more experienced healer mage, whose services are expensive, I'm just an orphan with no money—"
"—and no dick." Bradley finished the sentence for him.
"Only nobles or awakeners can afford that; therefore, I'm doomed, I don't want to live anymore. I stole a revolver from the orphanage guards when they were not paying attention. I'm scared to do it, but I will not live in this world like this. So maybe in the next life, I'll never date different women. To whoever is reading this: don't cheat or you'll get your dick cut off.
The diary ended there; no more pages were left.
"So that's how he died..., he committed suicide because he got his dih cut. What an ending—but still, castrating him is some crazy work, goddamn, she didn't even hesitate."
"He was kind of dumb, he could attempt whatever trial and get magical abilities to heal himself or make enough money to pay a healer who can heal such types of wounds. I guess he just couldn't wait."
Bradley closed the diary and made a prayer.
"I hope you find peace and do not cheat on your next life. I'll use your body not to fix your mistakes but for a greater purpose—scratch that, if I live long enough that is."
He opened his eyes and leaned back on the chair.
He looked at the moons outside.
So I'm in a fantasy magical world where children have to go under a trial at the age of 13... He thought. Typical of a fantasy world.
The trial is tomorrow...shit, I don't even know what kind of trial it is or what the kids are supposed to learn before attempting it.
He leaned in and checked the other books, but they were just books of recipes.
Was this fucker trying to be a chef or something?
Even though he did not know anything about the trial, he knew that it would not be something so hard the kids his age would not be able to clear but it would not be easy either, however, knowing what you will face is always better than nothing.
Bradley stood up and stretched.
"Well, I'll just find out everything tomorrow." He paused and looked at the bloody floor with gray matter. "Fuck, I really got to clean this before someone else comes in this room.
He moved towards the bed and pulled the blanket, which was stained from cleaning his foot earlier. He used it to clean the floor, and cleaned the gray matter on the floor with a disgusted look on his face.
I'm going to throw up.
After he was done cleaning, he wrapped the blanket together and tied into a ball.
"I should throw these blankets away tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll hide them inside the wardrobe."
He opened the wardrobe and found clothes hanging and a basket just below.
Perfect.
He put the bloody blanket inside it, he removed his shirt and noticed something he had not noticed before.
His body had bruises. A couple of them.
"How come I did not feel the pain with this bunch of bruises?" He said as he touched his chest and then his hand recoiled as a sharp pain came from bruises. "Fuck!" he cursed.
He had made a conclusion that those wounds were probably caused by the boys who bullied the previous owner of the body as stated in the diary.
He cleaned the blood on his forehead with the shirt and closed the wardrobe.
"I can't wait to see the awakening trial tomorrow." He yawned, blew out the candle and jumped into bed.
He covered himself with the remaining blanket.
He looked at the two moons outside.
"I still can't believe this is actually real—it still feels like a dream." He whispered.
Is this how the people who reincarnated in fantasy books felt? It is not a bad feeling.
"I wonder if the other me survived."
He remembers him trying to save him from the older woman, but he was sent flying deeper into the woods. He could not imagine what kind of reaction he would make if he saw his dead body. Would he cry? Would he be angry? he did not know. He also wondered if he could survive without him since he had never bonded with anyone else other than him.
Bradley was already missing him, even though he was insufferable sometimes; his company was a comfort in those years he lived in misery.
He did not know if he would survive this so-called trial, nor did he have a reason to live yet; only the future would give him answers.
He stared at the moon long enough until his eyelids felt heavy, and then he fell into a deep slumber.