…It hurts. I wish I could turn back time. What was I even expecting? That things would just go the way I wanted? That I could just… win Eula over that easily? Nothing ever goes right. Same as always. Even here.
I dragged my nails across my scalp from the stress. It hurt, but it didn't stop the shaking in my chest. I squeezed my neck tightly, as if ending everything would somehow make it quiet. How stupid of me to think anything could actually change. Misfortune kept finding me. It never let go. I didn't have much strength left. My eyes were wide open as I kept staring blankly at the ceiling.
"…I just wanted to be happy."
I muttered to myself, and that's when I realized I could hear voices from the next room.
"Did you really have to hit him that hard??"
"Don't start this again, Amber. What's done is done. I couldn't have known he wasn't an enemy."
"That's true but… whatever. I don't want to argue."
…I hate myself. Even the smallest things I do just… cause problems. Same back in my world. Same here. I kept turning restlessly on the couch. I couldn't sleep. While I was busy tearing myself apart inside, the sun began to seep into the room. I didn't know how many hours I'd been like that. I was tired but couldn't fall asleep. …All I wanted was to undo everything that happened. Maybe it wasn't even that big of a deal when I thought about it, but I couldn't swallow my pride. I loved Eula. It was like that long before she appeared in my dreams. And now… I don't even know if fixing this is possible…
After some time the room was fully lit. I heard footsteps outside. They stopped in front of my door, and after a few seconds, I heard a sigh before the door opened.
Eula stood in the doorway. When she noticed I was awake, lying there on the couch, she sighed again and spoke:
"Listen… I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't know what to do when I saw you in the house late at night. Amber told me what happened. Thank you for saving my friend. Hmph."
…You're supposed to say 'Vengeance will be mine,' Eula. …Yeah, maybe I exaggerated things a bit. Right? I probably did. …Still, I couldn't bring myself to look into her eyes. I wanted to, but I just couldn't. My reply came out strained and weak:
"…It's fine. …I'm fine."
She stared at me for a moment longer before sighing again.
"If you say so. …I'll leave this here in case you need anything."
She said that, then closed the door. …When I saw what she left behind, my sight trembled.
…She left me money. Like I was some stray dog.
My breath started shaking. …It hurt. God, it hurt. I wished I wasn't this weak. …I couldn't take it.
I got up quickly, left the room, then left the house. I didn't take the pouch. I just wanted to run—put all of this behind me. This world was mocking me. …No, I'm not overthinking. This always happens. Opportunities appear right in front of me, and before I can even move, they slam shut in my face. …When I stepped outside, the daylight stabbed my eyes. The lack of sleep was hitting me hard. …I didn't know what to do. I started running aimlessly, heading out of the city. The only thing I wanted now was to silence the voices in my head.
After a while I made it outside the city and into the forest. My legs couldn't carry me anymore, so I collapsed to the ground. I tried to steady my breathing, tried to calm my body and mind, but it didn't work. …Damn it. Fuck. I took a deep breath and screamed with everything I had.
Every bird resting on the branches took off in a frantic rush.
Then I stood back up. The voices in my head wouldn't stop. End it. Give up. Quit. You're worthless. They kept repeating.
"Shut up. Shut up!"
To drive them out, I slammed my head against a tree trunk. A dull thud echoed with a sharp burst of pain. I did it again. And again. I kept going until the voices faded. Blood dripped down my forehead. Eventually the pain forced me to stop. The voices were gone for now. I wiped the blood away with the back of my hand. It hurt— but the pain inside still drowned it.
I didn't know what to do anymore. And on top of all that, as if nature could feel my mood, it started to rain. …Fuck this. I hate everything. I hate everything. …I can't stand watching everything I want slip through my fingers again and again.
I slammed my fist into the tree trunk as hard as I could. That punch was the sign that I hated what fate had handed me—
and that from now on, I'd take more by force.
Whether anything mattered or not.