Life on Earth wasn't half bad.
Atleast for someone like me. An orphan by birth, I was welcomed and raised at my aunt's house with great care and affection. I now have a younger cousin, just a little over twelve but a damn genius for his own age.
To my beautiful luck, that never caused any unnecessary comparison of me with the young child. Unlike a lot of stories I see on social media and hear from my classmates, where their own parents scream the living soul out of them by claiming they only want to correct them, to advice them and to lead them on the right way.
But all it results in are a lots of bruises and a baggage of trauma in what was once a soul brimming with childhood innocence. Now left off as a broken shell and a rebellious teenager.
Speaking of a teenager, I am about to turn 18 years old. The legal age for being an adult in my country. Honestly, I don't feel any excitement or thrill of having all the adult rights.
My life revolves around my academic progress. My hobbies being playing all types of games, both indoors and outdoors, and most importantly reading books. Although I certainly should start trying to end a book series...
It was a weird habit of mine. As a webnovel reader, I often encounter fantastic writing pieces but end up dropping them all the while convincing myself: "I am just stacking chapters until there are enough of them. Then I shall binge read them all."
Only to forget those works as they sit in my library, never ever to be opened again. Honestly, I rather feel for the authors out there, scratching their heads and wondering on why their reader count never matches their extraordinarily high number of collections.
But there is one book...that I didn't drop. Re-read it while waiting for the new chapters. Whispered the texts like a mantra meant to make up my day. And yet, I never gave up on it.
Fate's Cruelty
A book, not much imposing or attractive in its title. A book I had chosen after being frustrated over the waves of works created by artificial intelligence.
And I prefer my books to be made by humans.
This isn't me being conservative.
This is me drawing the line on where human creativity should never be defiled.
Onto the book, it started with an engaging plot. A book that had no specific hero and villain until the end where finally, the protagonist and the antanogist would be decided upon. Between two main characters - Elise Penelope and John Nickelson.
Something that really caught my eye was how the author had masterfully manipulated the plot in such a manner that the selection of the protagonist and the antanogist depended entirely upon the viewpoint of the people of that world.
It reflected reality - if they say you are bad, then you are bad. No matter how much you try, you shall never change their opinion.
Truly, society is the biggest harbringer of ruin to an individual while at the same time, serving as the pivotal upon which the human civilization progresses.
I can accept all that...But why and I seriously ask why in the heavens and hells would the damned author make my precious Elise the antagonist?!
Such a darling, only to be struck to the mud by the fllthy plot armour of John and the "people's support". And later labelled as the Villainess of the book. The true sufferer at the hands of fate.
I felt my hands clench and my blood boiling, drawing my blood vessels taut against the skin. My heart throbbed faster than it should as I reach the last page of the epilogue.
An ending where John settled happily with his family and Elise rotted seven feet under the soil, labelled as the 'Mother of Genocide'.
No...no! No! I can't accept such an ending. If compared by literary terms, both John and Elise were anti-heroes, each causing destruction that shattered economies and crippled the poor. Killing millions in the process.
"The audacity to lay all blame on her, while the sheer level of destruction by John was blissfully ignored as just casualties."
"Darn you author!" I curse loudly while I quickly tap on the author's profile, trying to stalk his socials. Only to see not a single link regarding that.
And then I realise that I shouldn't be surprised. This work afterall didn't receive much attention. Probably for being out of the place or just bad luck. I might even be the only reader who had kept continuing this book.
Why had the author continued to write this even though it was a big failure was something I couldn't comprehend.
But I could care less. I just wanted to find that author and curse him aloud. Killing my lady...that was despicable. Ruthless. Vile.
Along the way, somehow I have somehow ended up attracted to Elise Penelope so much that she has now become my standard for a partner. Cold yet full of emotions, calculative yet knows how to be a human. It's really sad how she couldn't express any of her empathetic sides; the world didn't just allow her to.
Suddenly, I felt an intensive pain at my core. I pressed my palm against my chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat as if about to burst from its cage.
Even my breathing turned haggard.
But my rage didn't quell...
For even though I should panic and call for help, all I felt was an anger. To insert myself by her side. To shout out to the world and point my finger at their duality.
To give her a better ending.
But I wasn't a fool. Realising my condition, I tried to get up from my bed but miserably fell down on the floor with a thud.
Eh? Why can't I speak...?
I suddenly realised something horrifying. I commanded myself to speak, to call for help but my mouth refused. It refused to budge at all as if being rendered useless.
My breath grew more desperate. My heartbeat slower than a snail's pace. My vision on the verge of complete darkness.
That is when I heard a voice call to me.
[A wandering Watcher has taken interest in your death...and your love. As the Watcher intends, you shall now be shifted to the world you desire to be in. Choose your paths wisely, Kevin Hawk.]
Everything went black.