POV: Ulah.

My stomach hurts…

My stomach hurts so much…

I roll around inside the outside bathroom, withering in pain. It doesn’t only hurt, but I also feel overwhelmingly thirsty and hungry.

Very hungry.

I force myself up and feel the immense pain in my belly. Like something in it is moving.

I lift my shirt and look at my stomach which has a couple of scars due to my falling when I was younger.

I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. I feel the weird movement, but I don’t see anything.

Is it because of the bread roll? The bread wasn’t good?

“Mommy…” I try to shout, but it hurts too.

I struggle to get on my feet and push the wooden door. It creaks loudly, gaining the attention of any nearby bugs.

I stagger towards the house like an old man who’s dependent on his cane. The bathroom is only two meters behind the house so it's close.

My feet drag through the low-cut grass. It’s longer than usual, I guess mom forgot to cut it this week.

She always uses a machete to cut it. She would grab a hold of the grass and slice and slice if the cutlass isn’t too dull.

I feel hungry.

My breathing gets hard and I step on a small wooden toy pyramid. It looks like a pyramid communicator.

I pass by it. Once my stomach stops hurting, I will ask Mister Paul if it’s Jenny's own. He made one for her that looked exactly like it.

Maybe I can ask him for one too? Again? Maybe he would say yes this time.

I think about it.

’Tell your father to give me my damn money!’ Was what he told me when I asked if he could also make me one last month.

I think my dad hired him to make a cabinet for him, but didn’t pay him. It was confusing, Dad usually makes everything in the house so I didn’t get why he would ask for it.

There was a time he came over to the house with a machete, demanding his money. The other people around were listening too.

Some inquired what was going on and then shammed my dad, saying:

’Caren, just give the man his bloody money.’

’Paul's too nice. If it was me, I would have fuck you up already.’

’Paul is too stupid to do a job for Caren of all people.’

Mom didn’t say anything. Mom rarely ever said anything when there was drama. Her expression wouldn’t change, she would just check on Vernisha to see if she was okay then go fish with Palia and sometimes Mary.

I am hungry…

Mom said she didn’t bring back any fish because it sold well in Portrum, but she probably lied.

Maybe she saved some fish and preserved them for tomorrow.

Maybe…

I could eat and drink anything right now…

I finally reach the back of the house and lean against it. With most of my weight on it, I force myself to the side of the house to get to the front so I can enter.

“Mom…”

**

POV: Vernisha.

Like usual, I float in moving darkness that moves around like fog with a life of its own.

I hate this dream. I want something better, like the ones I had back on Earth.

The clean ones this time.

So weird. I wonder how this brain works, really. I was around 21 when I died back on Earth. Or rather, took my own life.

I didn’t have a good reason too, I guess. I am sure when my family and old friends found out, they would have reacted in surprise and shock.

’ You’re lying… No way Nelle took all these pills.'

‘But why? She was never involved with anything weird. Had no children, no abusive boyfriend, no drugs, nothing.’

Funny.

I had nothing to look forward to in the future. Not even something as simple as interacting with others.

You know how life goes. In high school, you are close with all your buddies, you get excited over the prospect of going to the same college. However, taking different majors leads to almost never sharing the same classes, never taking the same classes leads to spending less time with each other, and slowly, conversations on WhatsApp die.

Go from friends to acquaintances. Then from acquaintances to strangers, eventually.

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Make new friends, that’s obvious. But I didn’t have the drive for that I guess. I hated economics, and that led to me hating everything that had to deal with that fucking college. So once a class was done, I would move to the other ones. Once all my classes were done, I would get the hell out of that damn campus.

I would take a taxi to get to my home, throw my clothes on the couches in the living room, maybe think about getting rid of a cool aid stain on one of the couches, then just throw myself on my bed despite being sweaty and dirty, turn on the AC, maybe sleep for a bit, wake up, do homework, scroll through Tiktok, get bored, goes on Webtoon to read my favorite series but suddenly feels no love for it, checks out royal road or ronobes or whatever fucking pirate sites there are for novels, but realize I have no energy to read anything.

So I watch some Invincible, give up, try a random anime, give up, and then try rewatching a nostalgic series like Adventure Time, Teen Titans, or whatever.

Nothing sticks. I get joy from nothing. Nothing makes me excited.

Food I used to love now tastes bland, boring. My originally favorite youtuber(moistcritikal) now seems immensely boring.

I possessed no desire to look forward to anything.

I think it’s probably a day thing, but my attitude continues for weeks, months.

I can’t think of anything worth living for and overdose on painkillers.

I crack the pill cap open, down some in my hand, stare at it, get anxious over it, try to think myself out of it, give up, throw them into my mouth, lay on my bed, and wait for the effect.

The slowed breathing.

The slowed and weird heartbeats.

The loss of consciousness then cardiac arrest.

A pathetic reason to go out, I suppose. But what do you know, for some reason I get reincarnated as a baby in a fantasy world.

I don’t believe in just random luck, but I also don’t care enough to find out why.

Anyway, the dream is finally disappearing. The moving darkness fades away, and I wake up.

I stare at the ceiling. I can’t see it because of the darkness, but I am facing up.

My stomach hurts for some reason.

I get up, but when I do, the pain grows and I come to a sharp halt. It’s like I am being kicked in the stomach.

What the hell?

I pause to look around. “Ulah?”

I don’t want to use my healing skill only to find out that he’s secretly awake.

He doesn’t reply back, which is expected if he is fast asleep. I lightly kick the general area that’s behind me. That’s where he normally sleeps.

He thinks that sleeping behind me would make it so that if a monster sneaks in he will be able to escape… while it eats me. A cruel child.

But it was somewhat funny when he told me his reasoning.

I move in the darkness like a blind person and touch his blanket. I am happy it isn’t wet from either his sweat (it’s also making hot) or pee. But where the hell did he go?

The stomach pain grows worse.

Holy shit! Maybe I shouldn’t have said I was glad I didn’t have my period yet. Is this karma?

This is worse than what I ever felt back on Earth. And the pain was usually so bad that I always needed to use painkillers.

I coat my left hand in my healing aura/skill and press it against my lower abdomen and stomach.

The red aura slightly lights up the room. It’s similar to a firefly in the middle of the darkness.

The pain subsides to a degree.

Since the pain lessens that means the source of pain is something else. Years ago, I tested this power a little bit and learned it only caused recovery, not stop muscle contractions(unless the contractions are caused because of some kind of damage/malfunction of the body, I am guessing).

I leave the bedroom and move towards the kitchen part of the living room.

The wooden floor creaks as I walk on it. I kick pens and my notebooks that Ulah left on the floor by accident. It’s dark, so I am just relying on my memory.

There are about five decent wooden chairs. One is on the right side of the living room, resting against the wall. The other one is on the opposite wall.

The three others—

I hit the leg of the dinner table. I touch the table, feeling the red table runner that lost most of its color.

A merchant from the Laskdar city came here among other villages, selling used/old stuff. So Caren bought it for cheap. I’m talking two bronze pints kind of cheap.

One bronze pint cheaper than a hamburger from Sundawn, the capital.

I use the table as a guide to move towards the kitchen. I know I am here because I feel the oil-treated basket that contains all the dishware.

I stretch to the small cabinet, which is mounted on the wall, above the basket. I touch the face of the cabinet and use that to lead my hand to the knob which is near the middle.

I swing the cabinet door open and check the last shelf. I’m feeling for a small air-tight wooden bottle that contains grated Hula fruits that have been dried for preservation reasons.

I unscrew the cap, put a light amount of the dried Hula fruit on my hand and throw it in my mouth.

Gross!

I struggle to not vomit because of the filthy taste and swallow it. I even end up coughing, sending spittle all over.

That bread. Some fucker must have poisoned it or it’s made with shit.

Hopefully its just my bread that was spoiled.

There is a sudden sound of creaking. Similar to a door being opened.

I turn to it and hear footsteps.

Someone went outside to use the washroom?

I grab bludust from the second shelf. It’s on a small metal plate so I hold the edge carefully to not tip it over.

I spit on the blue sand. It makes sizzling sounds like water falling into hot oil. And after a couple of sparks, it ignites and creates a small but decently bright fire for me.

Blue light bounces off the room, making the room barely visible, but good enough to navigate in. The shadows behind every object is stretched and exaggerated, and I can see the person that just entered; it’s Ulah.

He’s holding his stomach, hunched over and groaning.

“Your stomach hurts too?” I grab the container of dried grated hula fruit and walk towards him.

“Who’s that…? Vernisha?”

“Yeah. I think the bread is spoiled. My stomach felt like shit too.”

I halt, remembering how he always reacted to being forced to eat Hula. He would not simply spit it out but vomit it.

“Give me a second,” I say. I head over to the basket of fruits that’s in the middle of the dinner table.

I grab the biggest pink-terra which is half ripe. There are other fruits in it like moonpaes, which are C shaped grapes that taste like a mix between watermelon and cheery.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“I’m getting something to make you feel better.”

He stays silent for a couple of seconds then groan in pain. “I am hungry and— and thirsty.”

“I know. I know. You will get something to eat soon.” As I walk towards him, I split the pink-terra into two.

A light amount of white juices gets on my hand and drips to the ground. I am holding the dried hula container in my armpit so its steady.

Once I am in front of him I put the plated fire on the floor and hold the pink-terra with my left hand. I put a thumbnail amount of grated hula fruit between the split. I close it and hand it to him.

“Eat this. It will make you better.”

He grabs it like a hungry monkey then devours it. Strange, he normally would ask why it’s already open and so on.

Pink-terra is his favorite fruit because he wants to be different(Wow, you guys hate this? But it’s so good!). Its bitter taste is good at burying other flavors, so it’s good to get him to eat otherwise disgusting tasting medicines.

I hear other sounds. “Why are you two up?”

Natasha. She and Caren sleeps in the living room.

I respond, “Ulah is a little sick so I am just—”

“I am hungry…” Ulah sounds like a man shot in the throat and is desperately trying to talk.

“Eat everything first, and… I will get something for you.” Obviously that’s impossible.

There is nothing in the house to eat but vegetables and fruits.

Natasha is walking towards me. “Since when is he hungry at night?”

She ask him in the same breath, “Didn’t you eat all of your lunch?”

He hugs his stomach and squats in pain. “I am hungry. I am hungry…”

“Hey. Hey.” I rub his back. “You will get something to eat soon.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, so just wait a little.”

He says nothing for a while, but pulls my left arm and stares at it.

“What is it? You like my fingernail paintings?” He is the one that did it for me because he was bored.

Instead of answering, he sinks his teeth deep into my forearm.

And it hurts! Sharp, Sharp teeth!