It's hard being self-aware.
Especially when things are going shit. When life is not going as planned. When the world is only turning to go against you.
That is what the boy laying on the puddle of his own blood is thinking as his life slowly fades away.
He was just walking at night to clear his mind of his worries, it has been full of it since graduation. You see, he had just finished high school and he thinks that he has nothing to show for it, aside loneliness and a anti-social tendency that borders on misanthropic.
He was an outcast, a weird nerd that likes gross things. He is ignored most of the time, and the only instance of being seen is when he is bullied and picked on by his classmates. And every time it happens, no one steps up to stop what is happening. Most people turn their heads, and some feel a cruel comedy from it. A schadenfreude joy of not being on the short end of the stick.
This is when he realized that the world is fucked up. He could live in misery for all it cares it would not bat an eye, it would turn and turn just like usual, and the misery of one nobody would not slow it a nanometer.
So he lays here. On the pool of his own blood after being stabbed by a mugger, who took pretty much everything. His wallet, identification, money and his life.
Everything feels cold now.
But there's a fire in his chest that refuse to let the cold be the last sensation he ever felt.
A fire of bitterness for the life that had fucked him in all sides. In the past, present and future - there has not one been good memory he could flash too before being thrown in hell. Because he knows that he would not go in heaven because of his track record.
With his remaining strength, he placed his hand on his chest then clutched it as hard he can, while gritting his teeth. His peeled his eyes open, not flinching from the raindrops hitting his eyes.
In this hate fueled pre-active phase, he made a vow.
That if he were to live again, that if the off chance he gets to breath again happened, he will live for himself and himself only.
Fuck the world, and everyone and everything in it, just like how it fucked him in all aspects.
He promised.
...
It is said that if the deceased left this world with strong emotions like sorrow, rage, and hate - they will get to live again in the shape of malignant spirit. A spirit that will curse everyone that has the unfortunate encounter of said spirit.
An Onryō.
A vengeful spirit.
A being whose entire existence is fueled by misery and misery inflicted.
A soul burns as it enter the wheel of reincarnation.
It burns and burns, until the fire turns a hateful blue. The temperature reaches an unprecedented level, melting the gilded lines of the wheel, forming cracks in the process. In these crevices, the soul leak through, and is expelled from the natural cycle.
It was then launched outward with extreme force, its trajectory...
Nowhere.
But after it sailed through nothingness it was stopped suddenly.
Two eyes open, a mouth twisted into existence, and two large spectral hands palmed the soul.
It spoke.
"You carry an unquenchable bitterness within you. So hot that it cracked the aurelian lines of the wheel of reincarnation."
"You have sailed in the void for a time that makes you invalid to return, for you have been touched by this place and by my hands."
"The final verdict is for exile to a different realm."
"In a different form, in a different time."
"You will live again."
The eyes projected a swirling hole. The hands then dropped the soul in the portal, it consumed it.
The eyes closed after the soul is fully consumed. The spectral being dissolving back into the world.
Leaving only silence.
...
The eyes of boy opened to the sight of a familiar scene.
A room full of chairs, whose end have a chalk boards. People in uniforms talking to each other. The air of adolescents is pungent in the air.
What is also present in the air is...
shallowness.
...
..
.