It all started on a typical sunny day. The year was 2022. I woke up and decided to visit the grave of my recently deceased grandfather. He and I were extremely close, so much so that no one after him made me happy. My parents grew cold toward me after it was revealed that my wealthy grandfather let me inherit his money. I did not care about the money; as a matter of fact, I started to actively dislike it. Even though I was able to buy everything I wanted, it did not make me happy because no one I knew was around for the money. After some time, I started to not care about the people around me anymore. I tried living my life as peacefully as possible, and I was not about to let my jealous family and some fake friends destroy the peace I sought. But even then, those people found out that they wanted to donate most of the money, and they came together to, well, kill me. My last thoughts were filled with rage, sadness, pure hatred, and anxiety. I did not know what would happen now, and I was scared to find out. Following this event, my story ended, but it also started.