Life could be dream. Life was a clickbait, a bitch. So unpredictable and unforgiving. It taunts us with the idea of fairness, but rarely delivers on that promise. Never fair, yet it often preaches fairness. I remember certain things... things that make me feel like I've been through this before. It's as if I'm reliving it all over again. So intense that it feels too real to be mere déjà vu. So what! Blood, my hands were stained with blood. "Just die, motherf****r!" "Die!" "Die!" "Diiie!!" In the heat of the moment, I yelled those words. I wanted him gone. Pitoo- "Why do you hold on to life so tightly? I'm doing you and society a big favor, damn it! Why can't you understand?! Why can't anybody understand?! Why?!!!" I grabbed him by the collar and shook him. He didn't respond. Worry gripped my heart as I hastily checked his pulse. He was alive... barely hanging on. I was relieved! Grabbing him by the head, I slammed him to the ground repeatedly until I heard a wet crunch.

It all goes back to the time when my parents found themselves in deep trouble after borrowing money from an infamous gang known as The Big Brotherhood. This gang had its hands in every illicit deal, place, and market in the underworld. They held significant influence, with a far-reaching network that extended to individuals in high positions. Their ability to carry out dirty work without question allowed them to overpower smaller gangs and expand rapidly. The Big Brotherhood had numerous affiliates across various fields and locations, making them difficult to track down. My father, who was a role model for all deadbeats, squandered the money he borrowed from them and vanished in the middle of the night. Since he rarely left his room except to eat, shit, or vent his anger, none of us noticed his disappearance. It was good riddance. However, the debt collectors were far less forgiving. On the due date, they arrived, demanding their money. However, our ignorant selves claimed complete

My little sister. She had been groomed for prostitution and sold to one of her bullies—a son of a politician—who frequently visited the establishment. She had suffered years of r*pe, mockery, and abuse. The investigation unit sent me evidence and videos. It cut deeper than any physical wounds, it hurt more than any injuries. I was torn apart from the inside out, a pain that no amount of drugs could ever dull. I didn't know pain could kill emotions, I didn't know pain could render me numb. She didn't deserve any of it. She was timid, meek, and quiet. Never once had she ever raised her voice, always choosing to hide behind me. That made me foolishly believe that I was the stronger, braver one between us. But... All along, she was the braver one... she was the stronger one. They had blackmailed her, using my life as leverage. They manipulated her into believing that she was paying for my freedom. For an older brother who left her behind, for an older brother she never knew wa

Mark's mind raced with doubt and uncertainty. His thoughts were abruptly cut short as he was pulled out of the tunnel, leaving him with more questions than answers. Emerging from the tunnel, his vision blurred and everything around him became a jumbled mess of sounds and colours. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming urge to shout. However, all that escaped his lips was a cry that resembled that of a newborn. "Uwaaaah!" He was disoriented and confused. 'What?! What's happening?' were the first thoughts that flooded his mind. Slowly, the muffled voices became clearer and more discernible. "Congratulations, Your Grace! You have been blessed with a beautiful baby boy. It is an honor to witness this joyous moment and be part of bringing new noble life into the world." The midwife triumphantly declared. "Congratulations, Your Grace..." "Congratulations, Your Grace..." The ladies-in-waiting followed. The room exploded in cheers and cries of joy. Mark listened carefully, trying to

A week after the funeral, Yon's once silent bedroom became filled with guests who had come to offer their condolences to the family. However, Yon couldn't help but feel a sense of strangeness and annoyance towards the nobles who looked at him with pity. Their pity seemed insincere, lacking any genuine empathy in their eyes. He didn't want to be subjected to such superficial pity. In fact, he didn't want to be pitied at all. The only reason Yon could endure the constant exposure to this kind of hollow, insincere pity from them was twofold - his own infant body's limitations, and the consoling presence of Asselin. Asselin's persistent support was the anchor that helped Yon cope with this unfamiliar and uncomfortable situation. She had been there for him since that fateful day, providing him with care and attention, regardless of the time of day or night. Her presence tried to fill in the void of his mother's absence, making him feel less alone. Asselin's attentiveness sometime