Next Life (boyXboy) ~PsychoAngel

Chapter One: Reborn

My name is Amber Nakayama, my hair is a light brown and my eyes are a shade darker. I live amongst people with cat ears and tails, we call them nekos. I currently live in a small town in Japan, with the man I thought had loved me. I just turned twenty three and everything hit the fan.

A year before I was born my family moved from America to Japan because my grandfather's health was dropping. After I was born, he died a month later. Two years later my little sister was born, Kaede. Sakiko, my youngest sister was born another three years after Kaede. Then finally my only brother, Ryota, was born to our family a year after Sakiko. I was the only one with an American name because only my mother was American, my father remarried after loosing my mother to cancer and had the other three to a Japanese woman like his grandfather wished, but this woman was a mother to me.

 His name was Hiru, I'd been his finace for a year in our five years. We had bought a apartment for our new life together, a really big one. He was five years older than I am, but this was arranged by our parents. Today he was at work, I was at home cleaning.

The phone rang and I hurried to it, Hiru called. I answered, he didn't call from his work unless the call was very important. He sighed into the phone and greeted me. I responded, worried like any person should be.

"Amber, this isn't how I wanted to do this," he started, saying my name like I was something wrong.

"Hiru, what are you saying? What are you talking about?" I asked, so nervous.

He paused, "I think we need to call it off."

My heart stopped. He wanted to leave me, after five long years. Hiru was the only thing keeping me alive. I hadn't told anyone but I was suffering from a serious depression and nothing was going to be done about it. I had lost my job, a baby we were so excited for, my father, friends, and even my smile. Now I'd lost him, my silver lining.

"Amber, saying something." he said quietly.

I held the phone and debated what to do, cry or hang up. "Why?" I muttered into the speaker, letting the first tear drop.

His breath got heavier. "I can't talk about this at work. Just keep the apartment and we'll never deal with each other again. Goodbye, Nakayama." he said, calling me by my last name.

I tightend my grip and threw the phone at the wall, breaking out into a mess. He called me at his work to end us and couldn't explain why. I collapsed onto the hard floor, my life wasn't worth living, this thought was around ever since I was fifteen. Then I remembered, back when I was fifteen I promised myself that when I turned twenty three I'd end the pain, only because twenty three happened to be my favorite number and I wanted to be that old before I could die.

I smiled and wiped my tears away, my body controlled itself out of pain. I looked up and admired the ceiling fan above my head, wishing I had rope. Sharp knifes in the kitchen would take hours to drain the blood from my unwanted body. Sadly I didn't own a gun, there had to be something. I began hunting through drawers and closets to find anything useful in ending the pain I was in.

I found it, a thin sheet I could twist enough to hang myself in. Using a chair, I tied the rope to the ceiling fan and put the make-shift noose around my neck. A thought ran throughout my head, the same thought that came every time I felt sad. What I had been born a man instead, would my life be better if I wasn't a girl? I felt sorry for shaming my familie's name with this selfish act and kicked the chair away from my feet. I shed a tear as I heard the chair hit the ground and the air finally leave my lifeless corpse in a breath.

My body was consumed by a sick greed to end the pain I was feeling. I hung and dangled back and forth, waiting for somebody to find my roting corpse. The soul that had been followed by grief left in an instant as my face shifted colors to a deep violet, a color that suited me before I turned pale. "Hiru..." was my finale word before I was swept away in the selfish impulse.