The wind was cold, biting, and relentless. It whipped through her damp hair, pulling at the strands until they slapped against her pale face. She could feel the rain on her skin now, light at first, but it was quickly turning into a steady downpour. Yet, she didn't move. The rooftop was silent, the world below muffled by the storm. The lights of the city stretched far beyond, but they seemed irrelevant.
She stood at the very edge, her feet barely touching the edge of the building. Her gaze drifted downward, to the ground so far below her, the familiar distance between the rooftop and the street almost comforting. The cold, wet asphalt looked like a perfect place to end it all. It was almost as if the world was waiting for her to make the final decision.
She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the air press down on her chest. This is it, she thought. The end of everything.
Her mind was hazy, but the memories started flooding in—pieces of her life she had pushed away for so long. Those memories, full of luxury and laughter, had slowly twisted into something darker, like a poison seeping through the cracks of her soul. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift back into the past.
Flashback I: A Rotten Paradise
She had been born into a life of gold and glass, where every desire was met before it even fully bloomed. From the moment she opened her eyes as a child, she had known nothing but wealth. The grand mansion they lived in stood like a palace on the hill, overlooking everything beneath it. It was a fortress made of marble and riches, and she was the princess, a figure cloaked in luxury, never forced to lift a finger.
Her father, a man with a sharp jawline and an even sharper tongue, ruled their family like a business. His eyes, cold and calculating, always seemed to be thinking of the next move. The company was everything to him. His empire was vast, extending beyond their mansion's walls into industries she couldn't even name. The house was always bustling, a hub of transactions, deals, and whispered conversations that she was never meant to hear.
Her mother, on the other hand, was all beauty, elegance, and charm—until the doors closed behind them, and the smile she wore melted into a mask of indifference. She was cold, and yet she demanded perfection. To her, feelings were weaknesses. She believed in power, status, and control.
As a child, she had been groomed to inherit that coldness. Her parents never spoke of love, only of success. "People are tools," her father would say, his voice deep and emotionless, "and the moment you stop seeing them as such, you lose."
Her mother taught her the same lesson, albeit in a gentler manner. "The world isn't kind, darling. You can either take what you want, or it will be taken from you. Do you want to be weak, like those poor souls out there?" she asked once, gesturing to the servants. "Or do you want to rule?"
So, she did. She took. And took. And took.
As a young girl, she had watched her mother humiliate the household staff with a smile on her face, always with a practiced air of indifference. If a servant made a mistake, they were dismissed on the spot. If they failed to meet her mother's high standards, the punishment was swift and ruthless. It didn't matter if they had worked for the family for years—if they faltered, they were discarded.
And so, she learned. She learned to belittle, to mock, to scorn. She followed her mother's example to perfection, making cruel jokes about the people who worked for them, thinking of them as nothing more than servants who existed to serve her. She never thought twice about the consequences of her actions, her arrogance clouding any sense of empathy.
As the memories bled into her mind, the girl clenched her hands into fists. Her childhood—her life—had been carefully curated by the greed and arrogance of those around her. They never taught her kindness or humility. They had taught her to rule, to take, to never stop until there was nothing left to take.
Her eyes opened once more, her gaze shifting back to the city below. The lights seemed distant, a blur of color. She had been told that everything she wanted was hers for the taking. That nothing, no one, could stand in her way. And for a while, it had been true.