1 - Where am I?

[Hmm this is an interesting situation I'm in] said Swartal (I see you Jc102209) as he stared out into the endless white void and tried to find out where the fuck he was.

[well I should at least try and think of how I got here]

....

"*sigh* looks like my parents are finally going to completely cut me off" a lonely and thin looking young man mumbled, [and there goes my chance at finding a place to stay for this coming month]. Swartal was the young man's name, it was an uncommon name for sure especially in a country like Japan. He was the oldest of 3 siblings and had just recently crossed the ripe age of 20. It had been years since Swartal had seen any of his family members, specifically it had been 3 years since he last saw them.

Swartal was heading toward an everyday convenience store near his small apartment while he tried to think where his life went wrong.

"Okay. Looks like I've achieved this month's quota. With this I'll be promoted!" a middle aged man's voice was suddenly heard by Swartal, [at least someone is having a good day] thought Swartal as he was lost in his memories. Just as Swartal reached the door of the convenience store out of the corner of his eye he saw a happy looking man suddenly bending over, Swartal misunderstanding that the man was having a stroke quickly moved towards him to check on the man.

When Swartal got on one knee to be at eye level with the man, he noticed that the man was reaching down to tie his shoelace. Feeling relieved and slightly embarrassed he began to think of a way to get up without embarrassing himself and find a convincing excuse, but as he started to get up his thoughts were cut short when he heard a loud dry sound.

*Do~pan*

Suddenly Swartal felt like his back was on fire, and slowly fell back onto his knees. Looking behind him at the convenience store he saw a man holding a comically small revolver-like pistol pointed towards him, who had an alarmed and fearful look on his face. Confused as to why he fell back on his knees Swartal attempted to get back onto his feet, unaware of the screams of pedestrians and customers past the ringing in his ears, when he finally saw a large amount of strangely red liquid beneath him out of the corner of his eye.

Just as he registered that the strange bright red liquid was blood, Swartal felt extremely cold, but strangely enough his back still felt like it was burning.

Swartal slowly, ever so slowly, started falling over sideways as he returned his gaze to where the happy middle aged man was, but all he saw was a concerned man screaming into his phone about someone getting shot at the street they were on. The young man feeling worry for the person who got shot tried to turn around to look for the injured person, but as he began turning around his back suddenly began flaring in pain again. Disregarding the pain in his back Swartal began getting up and looked around him, trying to find the person who was shot, [if I follow the blood I can find them quickly] he thought as he looked back down and began following the blood on the ground.

Unaware that he was going in circles he felt a hand on his shoulder, "I have to find whoever got shot!" he yelled at whoever grabbed his shoulder, before turning his head back to see the concerned man motioning for him to stop while trying to tell him that he was shot.

Sadly the youth was unable to hear the man and he was unaware of his heroic yell actually being a barely audible mumble. Feeling a massive headache due to the constant ringing and a strange feeling of nausea mixed with a feeling of thirst, Swartal started feeling extremely tired and decided to try and take a small nap. Finally as he closed his eyes he remembered a novel he read listing off what he felt as symptoms of a gunshot, and he finally thought [well at least I know who got shot].

That day a young man died in the place of a recently promoted middle aged man, the cause of death was a gunshot to the heart from a warning shot that a robber fired. The robber fearing that he would face an even worse sentence and facing the crushing guilt of becoming a murderer decided to turn himself in. The young man by the name of Swartal Shikur had his funeral attended by his parents siblings and ex-girlfriend whom all utilised their extensive connections and large bank accounts to ensure the robber never walking a free man for the rest of his miserable life.

Had Swartal known that the only people who attended his funeral were the same people who cut him off and drove him away, he would have felt a mix of anger, sadness, joy, and loathing but he would never find out.