prologue: blood and water

My mother passed away when I was 4 years old, leaving my father and me alone. Soon after, the sadness of losing a mother began to fade, replaced by my father's caring attention, and time passed unnoticed.

At the age of 10, my father died in a mysterious accident, reported in the newspaper as a result of a fire in one of his factories. Amidst sorrow and confusion — sorrow for my father's death and confusion regarding how to manage his inheritance — hyenas started circling, and my uncle appeared like a hero at the right moment when a child needed it the most.

He fended off the hyenas, handled the business's leadership vacuum, and took good care of me until I could take over. Everything seemed fine until...

At the age of 25, I graduated with top honors in all subjects, becoming the youngest person to achieve multiple degrees. During my graduation ceremony, my uncle looked genuinely happy, while my friends seemed envious. I was accustomed to it. What else could I expect? I was wealthy, intelligent, beautiful, sexy, and could be anything I wanted without financial constraints or other limitations that might hinder others.

Everything appeared beautiful, like a drama with a good ending, until I realized my life story was not a teenage drama but a thriller full of conspiracies. In the end, I didn't know what conspiracy unfolded; all I knew was that I met a gruesome end in the process.

Now, I'm in emptiness, my soul swaying in waves of endless void. In this emptiness, I recall a favorite TV show of our family, "Avatar: The Last Airbender." My mother, father, and I used to watch it together, a cherished memory that can never be repeated.

Even though I continued watching it with my father, it felt different, especially as he was often busy with work, leaving me alone. I wasn't truly alone, given the many personal servants I had, but they merely fulfilled their duties. I felt like a princess in a golden castle, lonely.

This loneliness worsened with the release of its live-action adaptation, best described in one word: "disappointing." Well, it was better than its sequel. And it aired after my father's death. Why am I discussing all this? Just one word: "Bored." I've been adrift for so long, and I don't know until when.

What I do know is that it will soon end—my "existence," to be precise, or perhaps it can be called my "soul." I feel it; my soul is fading, and my consciousness often slips away. At least this confirms to me that there is no place after death, although I had a slight hope. Maybe... just maybe... I could meet them again after death. Oh, what a sorrowful life...