"You brat! Everything's your fault, yet you blame me?!"
Ah. I'm back.
The smell of alcohol brushed past me as I lay on the floor. My younger self stood in front of me, head lowered and eyes blank.
Crack.
The bottle shattered as it landed on my head. Blood slid down my face.
It was another normal day… at least for me.
"If only that woman never gave this devil a life!"
Devil, huh. Devil.
Clang.
"You dare escape this closet, and I will end you!"
Trapped again.
Emotionless and empty, I had already been broken. Games were the only thing that gave me life and purpose—stupid isn't it?
Dad was always an alcoholic, and Mom… left.
Dad made me a victim of 'abuse.' Trapping me all over again.
I never went to school.
I never went to work.
And I never received any 'love' my whole life.
Games, on the other hand, gave me endless fun, enjoyment, and passion.
They were the only things that made me feel human.
F*cking backstory.
But I never left this past of mine.
"Argh…why now. Am I…dying?"
"...Adrian? Adrian!"
"Da…vid?" I said weakly as my blurry vision cleared.
A silhouette appeared before me. The warmth of his hands was the opposite of the cold I felt earlier.
It… was comforting.
To feel that someone cared—especially about me.
I slowly opened my eyes. A familiar suit came to view.
"Hey, are you okay?"
A familiar voice. I looked up and met worried eyes. His cold mask was gone, replaced with a softer expression.
"H—hey."
I managed to say.
His expression now shifted to relief. Seeing him worry, I couldn't help but smile.
The woman beside him sighed in relief as well.
All of this…in a puddle of errors and distress.