The things of another life's past.

??? POV:

I died... If you ask me how I died, I would say a heroic death, but that is not the truth.

Before my inevitable demise, my name was ##### I lived in a little city called XXXXXX

I was a high school student, facing the hardest truth of my reality and the hardest to bear at this moment in time; Bullying. You might be asking: “why don't you stand up to them?”

Well, being beaten brutally by jocks twice “your” size doesn’t make it easy to stand up to them.

What, you thought this was going to be more unusual? Well, you will have to wait and see.

The only blessing was if they were in a good mood, then my face was more likely to be spared from the violence. Usually, because they didn’t want to bother being confronted by the people asking “Why is this boy’s face shaped like a bloodied meatloaf.” And yes I talked with the teachers. But after that... well, that's the days the bullies is not in a particularly good mood.

Learn martial arts? Can't say I haven't tried. Because I did, if it was “Try for free” or “One month of lessons, If you’re not happy you will get your money back!”, but it's hard to implement in reality and especially when you have so little experience.

Would it surprise you if I said that my family lived in poverty? I do have a part-time job, but all that money goes directly into the house and my education. Top that with my good for nothing father who drinks all day, wasting away what little money we got left.

My mother? She works, four different jobs to be precise. She is trying to hold together what little is left of our lives. She already has too much on her shoulders, and my father wouldn't care the least about our problems.

At nights I could hear them arguing and from time to time. I would listen to how my father beat up my mother. I hate it... hated it!

I guess you have a general idea of how my life looks... well did look. Now let’s get to the breaking point.

One day I just had enough!

I was at home, and my parents had just started arguing. At this moment in time, I had been helping my mother making dinner, and one of the kitchen knives was close to me. And when my father hit my mother, I snapped. I took the knife in my hands, and with uncontrollable rage, I lunged myself at him.

That was a fatal mistake.

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I, unfortunately, couldn't remember how it had happened. But when I came back to reality my father, soaked in blood. Sat on the floor, with shagged shoulders and his head hanging down as he bellowed with tears dripping down on to the limp body in his arms. 

My mind went blank for a second as all the information overflooded my brain.

It was my mother which he held. Sticking out of her gut was a kitchen knife, the same one I had used just moments ago...

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I ran, ran as fast as I could. I ran with no direction in mind, I just ran, until I could run no more.

It was raining that day, and I was the only one for what seemed like miles around. Water was dripping from my hair, my clothes were soaked, but I didn't care. I sat down with my back against the closest wall and cried into my folded arms. I don't remember how long I sat there, but as I was done pitying myself the rain had stopped. I wandered around the city until that fateful moment which changed my life.

I was walking past an alleyway as I heard familiar voices coming from within. As I raised my head, I saw a group of people. It was my good for nothing classmates and the worst of worst at that. It was my fan club of bullies and another unfortunate soul which was beaten by the jocks; I guess it was because he didn't have enough money on him.

I didn't care, I didn't feel pity for the boy, nor did I feel the need to be heroic. But the boy looked at me, and our eyes meet. “Help me!” he cried. Now the gazes of all the jocks in that alleyway were directed my way. “Well~, if it isn't #####. Boooys!” said one of the bullies.

I turned around and tried to get away but moments later got caught by one of the bully's which ran after me. With a thud, I was thrown on to the alley street in front of the group. They had already let the other boy go as soon as their favorite toy where presented. How pathetic of him, calling for my help. Getting me into this mess and then to leave to save his tail. He should go and die!

Drowned in my thoughts, I suddenly got a kick in the side snapping me back. “Now, now ##### that's not especially nice, you should answer when someone is talking to you. Hasn't your bitch mother taught you anything?”. Those words cut deep... it was like he knew exactly what to say. And my dried-up tear channels started to moisturize. I had killed my mother, my mother which I loved and adored.

I didn't care anymore; he might have been twice my size. But I jumped at him hitting, biting and scratching, whatever I could think of doing. And surprisingly I had all the time in the world because everyone else was in such a shock that the crybaby they had always bullied just jumped their leader, the biggest and most influential of them all.

Just before they were able to gather their senses and tackled me down, I had stricken a critical strike at their leader — my knee connecting with that holiest of places for a man.

He was now lying on the floor covering his crotch with tears forming in his eyes. I was quite pleased with myself, but I was not done. Struggling with power, I never knew I had. I soon got free and went on with my rampage, targeting anyone close to me, preferably kicking them in the man-jewels. I was unstoppable!

It’s what they deserve. It's because people like them exist that the world is such a shitty place. It's because of them that my mother is dead. It's because of them I have suffered. I should kill them and get it over with, and then I should kill my good for nothing father, and why stop there? I should kill all the good for nothing people, my co-workers who look down on me, the teachers who could do nothing to help me. My classmates who have done nothing to help, and why stop there? I should kill everyone like them, every single last one of them.

Then suddenly in the heat of the moment, everything went blurry, and I fell to the cold, moist alley floor. I could feel a pulsating sensation coming from my head. I could feel something wet dripping off my hair, forming a pool below. First I thought it was water, but as the pool expanded being visible, I soon realized that it was red... not water. As my sight grew dimmer and darker, I could hear muffled voices. I tried listening to what they were saying; they seemed stressed. Then, footsteps as the sound of them running… Distancing themselves from me and then silence. I was left there on the hard-cold floor all alone, immobilized. 

I died...  A heroic death, trying to rid the world of evil!

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Bonus Pov:

I died, or at least I think I died? It's hard to tell if you are dead or not when your brain works, but your body doesn’t. I couldn't hear anything, feel anything or smell anything. The only thing I could do was see... if it even counts as that. Seeing only pitch-black darkness, as if floating around in nothingness. How long have I been here? How long am I going to stay? Is this the afterlife?... or maybe to be more precise, hell?

So, what does one do? When one is surrounded by darkness, unable to do anything! Well, you think… what else could one do? I went, through my head repeatedly of how I got here, my life before, how my mother died. How I got bullied, how no one did anything to help me. How no matter what I tried to do nothing changed.

It's indeed dangerous to be left alone doing nothing more than to think, especially when you have nothing but negative thoughts in your mind. Soon enough, I started talking to myself in my inner mind. As if I were two different individuals and maybe even more, much like what I am doing with you. Are you perhaps also one of my personas?

Time went by, and I was left there in the pitch-black darkness with nothing more to do than to think. As time flowed, I gradually started to forget things. First, it was small things that I didn't even know I had forgotten; then it was something more noticeable, faces. I knew the people I tried to see through my mind's eye, but the images were fuzzy. It was just a blurry silhouette of something... Something which had previously existed within my mind.

Soon enough I started to forget more and more. It was as if flowers where being plucked from a field within my mind, one after another until there was only a wasteland left. Just one last flower in this wasteland remained which I desperately clung on too, refusing to let go. It was a dark and sinister flower. It was the flower representing my hatred. 

Why was I so hateful? I had been hurt! Who had hurt me? Everyone! They should die; all should die. I will kill them; I will kill them all!

Just die! 

Chapter 0, Fin