Not Another Transmigration Story!

Lamentable.

If there was one word word to describe my life as Daus Moore, that would be the one. I don't think I've ever had a single happy memory as a child.

I grew up in unfortunate circumstances, to a family who didn't want me and made it abundantly clear through neglect and abuse. My mother was indifferent to me and my father whenever he was made aware of my existence, made sure that I paid for making said existence known.

Not to mention my schooling fees, which I had to pay for on my own by the way, I simply living and breathing solely for my own survival.

Through all the pain and all the abuse, I got by only for one goal, that is graduating high school and getting into a good university. Despite my deplorable life, if there was one silver lining, it was school. I got good grades and was well liked and respected by my teachers. Of course school wasn't always smooth sailing, if that were the case, calling my life lamentable would be a gross accusation.

No, school was also a nightmare. It didn't help that my appearance looked uncared-for and my clothes looked second hand, so of course people would assume that my financial situation wasn't exactly great to put it simply.

I would get reminded of this everyday by formulaic halfwits who probably couldn't tell the difference between a rectangle and a square. Why tell someone something they already know? Sigh… my life really is a cliche. It truly is unfortunate that this how I spend my days, walking on eggshells, hoping I don't become a target of my parents wrath or my school bullies. I truly wish I could be put out of my misery.

Sometimes I question wether or not this is some form of divine punishment the universe or God is giving me to atone for the sins I have committed in a past life or something. Or maybe I've just been dealt with a wrong card.

Truthfully I would prefer the former rather than the latter because the thought of this being my life due to having bad luck is too depressing.

....

On my way back from prison to prison, I decided to stop by the library close to the station near my house. I've made it a habit of staying out a little later for chance of running into that monster I call father. For some reason, his attitude towards me has gotten even worse over the past few months. It's gotten so bad that I have to wear long sleeves in order to hide the multiple bruises on my body. So in order to avoid another altercation with him, I started going to this library and passing my time there. A few months back, I came across a book entitled "The Heroic Tales of Earl Grey". Usually such a book wouldn't peak my curiousity in the slightest but because there wasn't a huge selection at the time, I decided to read it anyway. Who am I to be picky I thought to myself. For some odd reason, I found myself completely enthralled by the story, more particularly with Earl Grey's relationship with his son. Although the earl was detached and cold, he never mistreated his son and always did his best for him. However his son never truly appreciated all the things his father did for him.

"How lucky", I said to myself.

If I had to be completely honest, I sometimes wish I could live in a place where I didn't have to be on high alert for fear of being hit, or constantly worry about whether or not I'd be able to eat dinner on a particular night. The Earl's son really doesn't understand just how blessed he truly is.

"I'd like to be reborn as Donellian's son in my next life" I thought. But alas, some wishes just don't come true, I chuckled mirthlessly.

After finishing the book, I placed it back where I found it and made my way out of the library. It was already getting dark and I knew that If I didn't make it home my 8 PM I would get into serious trouble. As I was crossing the street, a car that came out of nowhere collided with a truck and started to make it's way near the crosswalk and of course not paying any attention to my surroundings and being completely unaware of this scene due to having my music on full blast (to drown my sorrows of course) I failed to hear all the commotion. It was only until it was too late to get the hell out of that place that I realized I was going to get hit my both a truck and a car. I guess it's true when they say that everyone's body reacts differently in a distressing situation. Some people take action and move when they know they are in danger, while others stay frozen in fear. For me however, it was a different case. My body was trying to move to avoid getting hit by both vehicles but then it stopped. I guess a part of me thought, why move? It's not like if I survived I would be going back to a good life. It's not like I had people waiting for me at home either. So what would be the point. I then remembered school, my good grades and my dreams of getting into prestigious university and getting out of my sorry excuse of a life. The minute I decided there was at least something to live for my body moved, but I was already going to get hit by a Sedan and some huge truck. Damn! I couldn't at least get hit by an expensive car? I could've gotten settlement money if I survived this.

"Well hell", I thought. "What did I do to deserve this?! My life really is lamentable."

All that was left was darkness.