"Pick this sh** up now girl!" My mother screamed at me, throwing a glass plate at my head.

The plate narrowly missed me, instead landing on the spot right beside me with a deafening clang.

"I-I'm sorry." I said lowering my head.

I accidentally dropped a plate while trying to serve breakfast, but I didn't think she would be so mad over it.

She probably drank in the morning again.

My hands shook uncontrollably as I glanced at my father, who was reading the newspaper on the couch. He gave an amused grin as he skimmed over its contents. At times he would pause and take a long drag from his cigarette. His languid posture suggested that nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred, as if today was just another start to a normal day.

I shut my eyes, desperately holding back the tears that threatened to escape my eyes. For once, I thanked my drunkard of a mother for coming home early.

I couldn't take it anymore.

After what happened last night, I knew I could not stay here. Dad was getting too close for comfort and mom was getting more and more violent.

I needed to leave.

But where do I go?

"Are you listening girl!? Pick it up now!" She spat, her spit landing on the broken pieces of plate scattered all over the floor.

"Yes mom...I'm sorry." I said.

I picked up the glass pieces with my bare hands, feeling the sharp, jagged edges as they cut through my skin. Blood started to seep from the cut. I didn't dare linger any further, frantically gathering the remaining pieces before leaving the room.

-At School-

I was late to school - not that anyone cared. As soon as I arrived, I rushed towards the nurse office to get my cut treated. The only thing preventing blood from escaping was the cluster of tissues I had pressed against the cut. To my surprise, the nurse was absent today, so I could only recall the steps to dressing a wound from memory, grinning as I admired my clumsy handiwork.

I went up to my locker and unlocked it. Instead of a locker cluttered with books, clippings and photos, I was greeted with a completely empty locker.

I glanced down at my shoes. They were supposed to be a beautiful, pristine white, but the shoes looked like the remains of something that was doused in coffee for an hour, trampled over by a lawnmower, and lit on fire. This is yet another example of my classmates' allegedly "harmless and fun" pranks. Whenever I would accuse them, they would feign ignorance, telling me I was delusional and overly sensitive.

I closed my locker and went to class. I don't even bother anymore.

-

My teacher was handing out the test we took last class, which I already know I failed.

I never got the test review since my classmates never gave it to me. They would actively avoid me, some even going as far as asking the teacher to reassign their seats as being next to me would "lower their productivity" in class. Even though half the school year had already passed, I had not made a single friend. At times I would wonder whether I had an invisible bubble around me that would forbid anyone from approaching me.

When I asked my teacher for a copy of the test review, she only looked at me dismissively, blaming me for not being well-liked by my classmates. She said I should just ask a classmate for a copy.

If only it was that simple.

My teacher walked by my desk, staring at me with disapproving eyes before she handed me my test paper. A huge F was scrawled on the paper in red ink, reminding me just how much of a failure I was in her eyes.

I could hear my classmates snickering behind me. Clearly, they knew about my terrible grade. Their laughter drowned out all the excited background chatter, their voices turning increasingly sinister by the second. I grabbed the edge of the seat, a futile effort to steady my trembling hand. The overhanging dread started to trickle in as I felt an uncomfortable lurch of my stomach. Suddenly, I felt every pair of eyes in the room staring at me, judging, laughing and ridiculing me for my cowardice. An overwhelming sense of loneliness washed over me, now more intense than ever, as I prayed for the class to end.

Please, let this class be over.

-Lunch-

I sat in my usual lunch spot, which was on the very edge of the roof. I flipped through the book I was currently reading.

"One More Time"

It's a cliche novel that can only be described as the epitome of the love at first sight trope. The story revolves around a shy girl named Jessica and a popular boy named Elliott. Shortly after Jessica transferred to Elliott's school, she had a fateful encounter with Elliott. Her pure-hearted and innocent nature had immediately piqued his interest. As the story progressed, a slow, budding romance formed between them.

Although the two leads of the novel were Jessica and Elliott, I had no interest in them. The only reason that I even picked up this novel is because of Asher, the second male lead of the novel.

Unlike the two main leads of the novel, he went through numerous obstacles. I admired him for his tenacity and willpower.

In addition to being ostracized by society because of his unique eye color, he was a bastard child that was treated horribly by his stepmother and stepbrother, the male lead.

Yes, the one who caused so much pain in Asher's life is the one who the readers are supposed to root for - the male protagonist, Elliott.

If I ever meet the author of this novel, I would slap them for idealizing a character as despicable as the male lead.

Why is it that people who deserve nothing always end up with everything?

When Asher was a child, he was pushed down the stairs by Elliott, resulting in his hospitalization. He couldn't stand or walk on his legs. Although he could have sought treatment for his legs, his stepmother refused to allow him access to any treatment.

Asher is alone and constantly has to withstand the abuse from his family.

Just like me.

I sighed. If only he could exist in reality as well, then I would have a friend to talk, laugh and joke around with.

We would help each other with our homework, play video games, watch movies, and have fun together. When one of us is down, the other person would always be there for comfort and reassurance. We would be each other's most trusted ally, even in face of the greatest storms.

How wonderful must it be to have a friend?

A loud bang suddenly sounded from my right, snapping me out of my reverie.

I whipped my head around, only to find a girl near the exit. Her entire appearance was shrouded in mystery. She wore a long, loose-fitting, burgundy-red hood that skillfully concealed her physical features, except for the loose strands of golden-blonde hair peeking out from the hood.

"Rayne."

Her voice sounded so close to me that I flinched in surprise. As soon as I refocused my gaze, I found her right next to me, staring at me with her head lowered. How did she walk so fast?

"Yes...?" I asked, averting her gaze.

I noticed that her slippers were embroidered with intricate swirl-like patterns lined with gold - it probably cost more than what my parents could ever earn in a lifetime.

"You don't like this life, do you?"

I laughed inwardly. What a stupid question to ask. Of course I despised my life! Did she think I wanted to be bullied and abused?

I didn't answer her. Instead, I tightened my hold on the book.

"I'm sorry." She said suddenly.

Sorry?

I lifted her head to meet her gaze, only to realize that her gaze wasn't fixed on me, but on the book I was holding.

"I am to blame for your current predicament. As I have caused you enough distress, I'll grant your last wish as repayment."

"Last....wish...?" I whispered. What did she mean last?

Well...I wish to be with Asher, but that's not possible....

Before I could even open my mouth to answer, she gently pushed me off the rooftop. I was in too much shock to register that I was falling to my death.

It was as if time had slowed down the moment I plunged to my death. I saw the blonde-haired girl mouthing words at me, but I didn't bother deciphering what she said. I just wished that my life after death would be free from pain and suffering.

But I knew it wouldn't come true. My wishes had never come true before so there was no reason to believe this time was any different.

I pray every night for one thing-

A happy life.

But I never got that.

I slowly closed my eyes, succumbing to my tragic fate.

I wondered whether Asher is also met with the same fate as mine. Oh well, I wouldn't live to know how the story ends.