Chapter 1 – Just Another Day in Hell
Some people think it's hard to live alone.
They're wrong.
It's not hard. It's hell.
My name is Leon.
I don't know a lot about myself, honestly. I don't even know my full name. People just call me orphan, loser, or trash. I was told my name meant "light" by my mother before she died. Funny, isn't it? I've lived most of my life in the dark.
I'm 19. A college student.
Just... average. Maybe less than that. No friends. No place to belong. No one waiting for me at home—unless you count a flickering bulb, cold leftovers, and silence.
It's hard to live alone and lonely.
But it's harder to live without meaning.
My phone buzzed.
Boss: "Don't be late again, or you're fired."
Part-time waiter at a cheap Walmart café.
That's how my evenings go—classes by day, cleaning tables by night. Every day is a repeat of the last, a never-ending loop that no one notices except me.
Leon, the guy in the last bench.
The invisible one.
That morning, I walked into class, already drained. It was barely 10 a.m., and I hated everything—the lights, the noise, the fake smiles. I took my usual seat in the back corner, where I could fade into the wall and pretend I didn't exist.
Across the room, I spotted him—the guy with spiky blond hair and a smirk carved permanently into his face. Typical bully. He stared at me like he had something to prove. Probably just needed someone weaker to kick around to feel powerful.
He wasn't alone. His gang followed close behind, loud and obnoxious. Then she walked in.
Her.
Long hair, perfect smile. The girl I once called mine. The girl who said "forever" before she kissed him behind the library. She didn't even look at me now. Why would she? I was just a mistake she had to clean up.
They sat together.
She laughed at something he said.
I tried not to care.
But of course, I did.
Then the guy—Point Hair, I called him—got up and walked straight toward me. He didn't stop until he reached my desk. Then, without warning, he kicked my chair and smirked.
"You piece of trash," he spat. "How dare you try to say love you to my girl?"
The classroom fell silent. Everyone stared.
I froze.
What?
I hadn't said anything. Not to her. Not to anyone. I never even had the courage to look her in the eyes after what happened, let alone speak to her again.
But the damage was done.
People believed him.
Because in college, truth doesn't matter—drama does.
I tried to speak, but nothing came out. My throat felt tight, my hands shaking under the desk. My heart beat like it was trying to escape.
I looked to the others.
Blank faces. Some smirking. Some recording.
No one stopped him.
No one ever did.
And just when I thought it couldn't get worse, he leaned in and said loud enough for everyone to hear,
"Break over, loser. I'll handle it after college."
That was the moment something inside me cracked.
Then—
The sky outside flickered. A sound—like tearing fabric.
Everyone looked up.
A scream.
A tremor.
And then...
The sky split open.
And hell truly began