I was a soldier. I was a cult fanatic who believed in the Light. I was a friend. Now I am nothing more than someone waiting for death. In the end, we all die the same way, so why worry about superficial things. I lost my best friend because of money issues. I have been disowned by my family due to the same reason and I know for a fact that no one will mourn for me. I have spent my days watching anime, reading manga, playing games, and imagining what I could or could not be. All for what?

Looking back at my life, I realized I was bored. Perhaps that's why I joined a cult. It was something different and sounded exciting at the moment. I was not a fanatic believer in any way. I joined the worships and all of that but never gave money as there was no money to give. That's how I died. Labeled as a heretic and stabbed by a crazy fanatic. The funny thing is, he stabbed me with a kitchen knife and called it a "Sacrificial Dagger" that was bestowed upon him. 

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I tried my best to get him off me, but that did not happen. He fell into a frenzy and continued stabbing me in random areas of my body. After about 10 stabs from his kitchen knife, he got off and went somewhere. 

As I lay in my own pool of blood, fear washed over me. I should have believed in one of those bigger religions like Christianity.  I feel my eyes lips heavier and heavier. A sense of drowsiness washed over me and shortly after, I went to sleep.