1 Dakota Reeves' Death Journal
I swear to all the new gods and the old gods. All the following words are true and I shall be condemned to the depths of hell should I be making shit up.
So folks.
Here's a story I want to share with you.
Just a moment ago I was lying on the dining room's floor on my last breath. Pitifully sucking in the air and choking on my own spit at the same time.
The feeling of suffocation still lingers now and it left a psychological shadow in me.
Don't drink wines offered to you without any regards folks. Even if it's from your best friend.
That's right. I was poisoned by my best friend!
Fucking Emma! Curse you, you Lil bitch!
Why you ask???
Well, folks. Thank god she was in the mood to have one of those evil villainess monologues right before I breathe my last breath. Hence, I was enlightened by her righteous stories of colluding with my two days, one night husband, Chris, that I was just married to, to squander that meager inheritance I got from my long perished family.
God damn.
It's not even that much. If you lock me up in the basement and force me with torture to give up the inheritance, I would obediently do so! Why do you have to deprive me of my right to live?
I was just an innocent 24 years old lady with few millions in hands, who was just about to start the life of a married woman.
Turns out that few meager millions are my ticket to premature death. That husband I married is fake and is "cuckolding" me. And that best friend I treasure so much, is super, duper, definitely, 100% fake!
Fuck my life.
I look straight into Emma's eyes as our eyes met. Despite the tears blurring my gaze, I could feel those eyes especially lack warmth and are watching me coldly. A little expectant of the peril that dawn on me.
Only then did I realize, Emma is really...
A fucking bitch.
I don't even have to waste my time to ponder and wonder about our sweet memories. Judging by her looks right now, she seems like she's disgusted and annoyed by my presence. She even chuckled and laugh as she enthusiastically curses me to die faster. Which, I find the words quite hard to decipher, now that I'm on the verge of death.
I really don't want to die.
I'm too young. I still want to live. 24 years old is too short. I haven't achieved anything worthy of bragging yet. I haven't conquered the world too.
At this point, I started thinking being a woman is really hard. I was fooled too easily. It even cost me my life.
Maybe if I was born a man, life would be easier.
Hence, I wish to be a man in my next life.
A handsome, tall, manly, rich man.
One that can slap Emma and Chris with gold bars as paddings on my palm since touching them directly would be an insult to me.
One that I can love.
Yes. I am so done with loving others, I might as well be the next Narcissus.
As I immerse myself in self-pity and useless thought as above, I felt my body grew cold. I can feel my soul slowly leaving my body.
With that, my consciousness fades and slowly and agonizingly, I lose them completely.
This is it folk. This is how I die. Tragic. I wonder how they're going to deal with my corpse.
I'm sad. Give me a few minutes of silence, please.
Sigh. Alright, let's get right back to it.
So, have you folks ever wondered, what happens after we die?
There are many versions of the afterlife out there.
There's one where the good will go to heaven, the bad will go to hell.
There's one where you'll undergo a cycle of reincarnation.
There's one where you can be a savage ghost, which, I hope for so bad just so I can hunt those fuckers down and kill them then bathe in their blood.
There's also one where there's just nothing after death.
Honestly, I've thought of this issue too. But, never in my life, I expected things to turn out this way.
*****
Little by little, I regained my consciousness. I can feel warmth slowly spreading in my body once again. With that, comes intense pain rushing to my brain and I realize I was lying in a rather awkward posture on the ground.
I inhaled, then exhaled.
Inhaled. Exhaled.
Just checking if I'm still alive. You know, ghosts don't breathe. Haha.
Anyway, I was trying to regulate my breathing to ease the pain in my head but it just won't go away. Not only was it not working, I even felt my lungs are on the verge of collapsing. I wonder if the poison Emma uses on me is not working. Leaving me in this half-living half-dead state.
I pry my eyes open a little, just to peep if Emma is still watching me like a damn hell hound.
The view of the dining room was replaced by a stretch of dark carpets and a bed.
I finally open my eyes wide.
The walls. The bed. The lighting. The floor. The whole place.
This is not my house!
I clumsily try to lift myself from the floor. Sitting myself up while leaning by the bed. Due to that, I finally lay my eyes on my bloodied hands.
Blood? I don't remember bleeding any...wait...
Why is my view unobstructed?
I grope my chest with that bloodied hand. The fleshy feeling of my C-cup boobs is nowhere to be found behind that thin cloth. Where is it?
Cough! Cough!
HAA!!! Why is my cough sound so hoarse??! And why am I coughing up blood???
The roaming hands on my chest finally reached their way to my rib, which sends distress and pain signals to my brain, resulting in me yelping in pain. This voice...doesn't sound quite right?
I look down at my hand only to see fresh new blood smeared on my palm's previously half-dried blood. Oh shit. I'm bleeding!!
While panicking inside, my eyes are scanning the room to find something to get myself out of this predicament.
I'm in a foreign room, without my C-cup chest, with an open wound on my body.
God is making fun of me. He thinks that dying once is not doing me justice, so he sent me to my death right after the first one by depriving me of my boobs and cut my body open.
˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚
I finally noticed a landline on the bedside table next to the bed. Next to it stand a brochure of Grand Royal Hotel. I'm apparently in a hotel! Thank god!
I pushed myself up and drag myself to the phone by propping myself up with my elbows on the bed. The journey felt long and arduous. I felt like dying. Literally.
With trembling hands, I pick up the phone and dialed reception.
"Good evening, Grand Royal hotel. How may I assist you?" A polite and gentle woman's voice greeted me on the other end.
"H...el-p. Am-bul...ance..." I utter through gritted teeth. My head still hurts and the pain in my rib is slowly eating my life away. I can feel my consciousness fading once again. So I repeat the words ambulance and help repeatedly to the other side before I finally lose it entirely.
I, Dakota Reeves, once again, unceremoniously, fall to my death. Probably.
Ding!
A weird ding was heard in my head. Like those notification sounds your phone played when you get a message. Only, the sound is in my head. I probably heard it wrong. Hehe.
[Task: Get help in 5 minutes. (Completed)]
A line of text appeared in front of me. Yes, folks. Remember that I said I was unconscious? In that pitch-black darkness, this line of words appeared in my favorite Calibri font in green color. I must have gone crazy from too much stress. Hehe.
"Congratulation host, for completing your task. Welcome back to the world. I am System 666, in charge of assisting your smooth transitioning in rebirth. Due to the amount of resentment from your side and the availability of a body in your request, upon further discussion, we managed to arrange for your soul to be transferred so you can have a second chance at life. Please be informed that the body will undergo repair and maintenance, so you will be in a comatose state for a week. You will be immune to any danger during those times. With the task completed and your life preserved, I shall leave you to your own device. Thank you for using our service. System 666, your best partner in rebirthing. Do rate me with 5 stars and leave a good review by the end of this transmission. Goodbye."
A mechanical woman's voice, like that of Siri, whom I always tease for jokes daily, sounded in my head. I must be losing my mind. Hahaha.
*****[End of Dakota Reeves' Death Journal]*****
