That time I entered the MHA universe?!

That time I lost everything - Chap 1

Death.

Final moments.

Some people think about these concepts often. Others, not at all. But they cannot comprehend them. Unless they see them.

A car. Some drunk hobo in a car that's half scraps. Me, in the backseat, slowly nodding off into slumber. A calm, peaceful meadow to the left, a rocky hillside to the right. These were the last moments. The last moments of my parents. Not that they had much time to observe at the time. Since their skulls were being crushed and their bodies ripped to shreds by the shattered glass that flew everywhere. They didn't have time to do much of anything as the other car barreled towards us.

I just watched. I watched as my brain lit up from its resting state and filled my body with unusable adrenaline. I was trapped against the car seat as shrapnel cut my exposed arm all over.

Tears came and went. Screams went unheard for what seemed like hours as my voice ran hoarse and dry.

I passed out. It was too much. I couldn't take it. I succumb to my emotion.

||||

I woke up to blaring lights and loud noises. I passed out again. This time I wouldn't wake for a while. Two days passed. The final moments of my parents played over and over in my mind until I felt like I was going crazy. I felt like my mind was ripping itself in two. I awoke.

"He's awake!" A light voice says suddenly. I blink and rub my eyes. My surroundings slowly fade in.

A white hospital room. The smell of medicine. A doctor in a coat walking into the room. He slowly takes his steps towards the chair at my bedside. I know what he will say. But I don't want to hear it, because I feel, that if he does, it will make it all real.

He pulls back the chair and crouches down to take a seat. He straightens his posture. "Hello, Homin." He says in a kind voice.

||||

I sit in my house. The past week has gone by quicker than I could say change. My house was empty. Some random relative helped me out and rented out a small crappy apartment where I'll live. I own all of my house's belongings, but they are all in a storage locker somewhere I don't know. All I have is my suitcase. I don't care though. I can't seem to get myself to give even slight emotion to my circumstances. I feel like I used it all up. I can't really feel much now. It's all numb. The days feel like someone put anesthesia in them. Blank. Painless. Dead.

Not like I even care.

I spend a few weeks wasting away in here. Watching whatever anime pops up on the TV. Their worlds intrigue me. I wish I had a life as nice as theirs. I should stop wasting away in front of the screen though. I'll just go outside for a little bit.

Not even a minute outside and I can already tell it's the slums. Dirt and graffiti everywhere. Shady people in shady alleyways. I rest on a wall around a block from my apartment.

"Hey, kid! Want a dart?" A voice says. I look up. A drunk middle-aged man greets me. He has brown hair with stubble on his chin and a large beer belly. He flicks a cigarette in my direction. I catch it. "Thanks," I say. I'm not going to actually use it. I'm just a kid, smoking is bad for you. I put it in my mouth and pretend to suck on it. "Mmm," I say. Is that what you're supposed to say?

"The hell ar' ya' doin'?" He questions and brings a lighter under the cigarette and lights it. I accidentally suck it in. Shit! I cough and spit. A calm warming feeling passes through me at the same time. The first time I've felt something in a while. "Thanks, gramps..." I say. "No biggie!" He laughs and walks off with a beer bottle in hand. I turn around and smack into a wall. "Ow!" I cry out. I feel so dizzy. I should get home.

Maybe I'll feel better soon...

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After I got home and rested a bit I started to feel better. My body must be not used to smoking. Too bad, it made me feel really good. School is tomorrow. I don't think I'll go. Not like anyone is making me go anymore. A single tear falls from my eye as I think of all the interactions I had with my parents that I took for granted. I wish my mom was here to scold me. I wish I had my dad to give me a talk about skipping school and smoking. More tears slide from my eyes as memories come to my mind.

I need some more cigarettes.