Uncontrollable || Dazai Osamu » book 1 ✓

14 | Hakai no Tenshi

"Ngh!"

...

(Am I dead? Is this how death feels like?)

...

(But I don't feel anything.)

She cracked open her eyes. Her father laid in a pool of crimson. She brought a hand up to her sore neck. The grasp around her neck was gone.

"Mom?" She turned her head behind her warily to find her mother dead, just like her father.

(Wh-what?)

"Your cursed ability killed them, vile creature," They echoed in unison.

"But I did not do anything!" She retorted in fury.

"Liar. We saw it with our own eyes."

"I swear I didn't!"

"Hypocrite."

"I never wanted this ability! So why do y'all keep blaming me? Why?!" She screamed.

She fell to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut. The voices that taunted her amplified so she covered her throbbing ears in a futile attempt to block out the chants.

Hypocrite. Liar. Vile creature.

"Shut up! Shut up!"

Demon spawn. Child of the damned.

"SHUT UP!"

The ground below her rumbled and shook.

"I don't care anymore! Go away! Die. Let everyone in this sinful world die!"

Bright scarlet lights exploded around her. There was coherent of screams and cries of anguish as the people crumpled to the ground lifeless one after another. Cracks snaked across the walls of the house as chunks of cement fell on the bodies around her.

Yet, she felt no remorse at all.

The lives that she took one by one was all driven by her hatred. The emotions that dwelled deep within her gushed out in that short moment.

It was her revenge.

All those years she had to suffer just because of the ability that was bestowed upon her. The memories that haunted her in her sleep every night. Waking up in the middle of her sleep drenched in cold sweat and erratic heartbeats were a daily occurrence.

The same years she had to starve herself, going for days with proper food. Occasionally being beaten up by gangsters just because she had accidentally strayed into their territory. The pain will eventually fade, the wounds will eventually heal, but the scars will forever remain. A constant reminder of her tainted past. Living every single day was painful, especially knowing that nothing will change the next day.

And the root of everything was of her ability.

Her sin.

If she can't get rid of her ability, then she just had to get rid of the people that haunted her — the source of her misery.

She climbed shakily back up to her feet, knees wobbling at the sudden weight applied to it. The air held the tangy bitterness of blood and smoke. She watched teary-eyed as the fiery flames slowly burnt away the remains of the house.

This wasn't enough for her. She wasn't satisfied with just burning away her misery. She knew well enough that it wouldn't end her pain. This deep hole in her heart that couldn't be stitched up physically. She took out the switchblade from her pocket.

(In the end, I'm the one who is dying.)

She positioned the blade and raised the knife with both hands to her chest level.

(I guess this is goodbye then.)

"(Y/n)!"

†

Thank you for reading!