Prologue: A Story That Begins At The End
I rarely contemplated death, but with the blood dripping mercilessly from my smashed fingers and my insides slowly turning into a burning hell inside myself, with the blade in my hands gradually becoming too delicate to hold, but even so still able to create ever-growing gaps between my skin, it hit me that what I'd been doing for so long resulted in exactly that. Death.
Now I know just as well as anyone that the subject of death and how exactly it happens to each person is a controversial topic of sorts. Maybe I’m taking it a bit far too soon, though, and to pardon my phrasing, maybe I'm jumping the gun a bit here, so if that is the case, I’ll go back to the start and introduce myself as formally as I can manage, given formalities aren’t exactly my forte. Let’s see how this turns out;
The name’s Angel Matthews, I’m sixteen and well quite far from the typical as you would presume, but closer to it than what many people could believe. My appearance? well, I had natural brunette hair but it looked too dirty, so I dyed it turquoise. I am ridiculously pale, and I have both my ears and my nose pierced. I wear variations of the same outfit most days - that's because when I found it it was on sale so I bought a few of the same thing in different colours and I like wearing it so I just… do. Many people in the street like to make judgments about people like me. They have some pre-determined backstory planned for me, and well, I’ve never really given them anything that contradicts their thoughts, so I guess I spent a long time just subconsciously adhering to their version of society. There’s nothing I can do about it now.
Anyway, as I lay there, on the cold bedroom floor, I heard the door unlock and a few somewhat distressing screams emanated from the entrance. I didn’t bother listening to what was being sobbed, I didn’t want my last memories to be of anything less than what I’d decided. I was too far removed from reality to ever return, even if I wanted to. Which I most certainly did not. Reality held too much pain for me.
I felt myself slipping away, sinking into the bloodstained carpet and into unconsciousness, giving up on the biggest game in the world: life. I was already resigned to the idea by then. I’d watched the game over screen flicker before, always wondering what would happen when I finally clicked ‘exit game’. Would I be able to play again? Would I let myself be overwritten by someone with a better skill set than I? I guess I’ll find out now.
What happened when I woke would change my afterlife forever.