I Am Not a Monster|| dnf

1. Friends

I'm so excited for this first chapter!!

Comment while you read, I want to know your thoughts!!

TW: death mentions, swearing, suicide mention (That's just this first part. There's nothing else for the rest of this chapter)

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1st person

The day I died was probably the best day of my life. And, no, I didn't kill myself. Sure, I didn't exactly stop it, even though I could've.

Maybe that counts. I don't know, the whole situation was so fucked up... All my decisions led up to it. And I mean that. Basically every single choice I've made in the past eighteen years directed me right to my death. I'm not sure how I didn't see it coming.

Oh, who am I kidding? I knew things wouldn't end well. They never do, in stories like these. I saw it coming from a mile away. Sure, that might make me selfish, for not stopping him from falling in love with me... For letting him feel the grief and regret.

But what am I if not a selfish bastard?

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3rd person (11 years earlier)

Clay bound up the stairs, eager to get a look around the house. The walls had some weird textured wallpaper in swirly flower designs and the ceiling of the hallway upstairs was an ugly shade of purple that he'd heard his mom talk about painting over.

He swung open the first door on the right, revealing an empty bedroom. In actuality, it was pretty small, but to a seven year old it was perfect. He assumed this one would be his, but he continued down the hallways, stepping on creaky black-painted floorboards. The next door was white and had a glass doorknob. He twisted it open to find an even bigger room with two windows facing the front yard. He wanted to claim it as his own, but he knew the bedrooms weren't really going to be divided by who called dibs first, and this one would most likely be his mom's.

He wandered to the corner of the room. He opened the closet cautiously, but it was unsurprisingly empty, besides the bar to hang clothes on. It was boring, he decided, so he was absolutely delighted to find the third smallest room wasn't as empty as the previous two.

On the far wall, there was a wooden vanity and a heavy looking metal bench. He ran towards it, eager to discover anything of value hidden in the drawers. He pulled open each one, becoming increasingly disappointed when they squeaked open to reveal nothing.

He glanced at the circular mirror, looking at the reflection of the room around him. It was gray-ish blue with the same stupid wallpaper. There wasn't much else besides the cracked closet door with the child standing just inside.

Wait. A child standing just inside?! Clay whipped his head towards the open closet, but there was nobody there. He decided immediately that this would be a perfect room for his little sister and that he would never ever step foot in it again. He raced back down the stairs, not bothering to look in the last room at the end of the hallway.

The big empty living room already held a few boxes with different labels on them, and his mom was opening the screen door, carrying a box labeled Clay in his own handwriting.