Runaway Villainess! Reincarnated Into an Otome Game!

The Villainess is Cast Out

A/N:  So, being the amateur writer that I am, I can't check my work while I'm typing it. I go into writer mode, and not reader mode, so I have to publish it first then revise it afterwards. However, the mobile app is a giant pos. I had this finished last night but the mobile app wouldn't let me publish the new version for some god forsaken reason and my laptop wouldn't charge b/c the universe hates me.  So, here we go:

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"Ah, so this is how I'm spending my final moments..."

I stare up at the cloudy night sky, not a star or airplane in sight, just a dark mass bordered by the two brick walls of the buildings.

...What a terrible night to be dying on. This kind of death isn't dramatic enough!!!

Blood pools underneath me, the hot liquid contrasting against the cold ground and air. I let out a shuddering exhale as is starts to grow harder to breathe, black spots growing in my vision.

Fuck! Fuck that mugger! FUCK HIM RIGHT IN THE-gaaah it hurts to breathe....

Fuck, it hurt to compress the bullet wound in my side but that didn't stop me from trying, an arm shakily lifting, a hand futilely palms the hole, blood still cascading through fingers and onto cement.

I can feel the numbness taking over, a soft buzzing sound in my ears. I close my heavy eyelids.

"....My life... shouldn't have ended this way. I should've gone to college, I should've never gotten this utterly shitty office job..." I let out a few wet coughs at the exclamation and sigh, hoping the asshole who probably bakes crack in his mother's basement gets caught. "I shouldn't have taken the shortcut."

I pause, thinking back on my decisions, and come to a clear conclusion:

"I should have told her."

******

"Rena Cloverfield, you disgust me," a deep voice snarls.

Wait a minute-- where am I? And who the hell is that asshole talking to?

I look around to see myself kneeling on the floor in a beautiful gown, something I could never afford, and for some reason soaking wet.

Some blonde guy with blue eyes stands before me, expression filled with disgust and contempt, pointing an empty wine glass at me as if it was a sword. A delicate, cute looking strawberry-haired girl stands behind him, looking meek and scared.

What the fuck was going on? Wasn't I just dying a couple of seconds ago? Listing out all of my regrets as I prepared to go whereever and asshole  like me goes?

I blink and raise a hand to my chest, feeling a rapid heartbeat pulsing underneath my palm.

'Cause fuck, I wasn't going to heaven. I should probably stop monologuing and focus.

I look back to the duo, only now noticing the four other attractive boys behind her, all sharing the same expression of contempt as the blond.

A crowd of people stand around us, all wearing jewel-sewn Victorian era clothes, all staring at me. Few expressionless, most mocking and disdainful, all seeming to be looking at a squashed roach, the disgust obvious.

Fuck, he was talking to me, isn't he?

"For assaulting my future fiance and your constant past harassment, I sentence you to a hundred years house arrest and stripped of your titles. May I never have to see you again."

He smirks at me.

I imagine bashing his face in with a dumbbell.

My expression remains the same, muscles stiff, except for the twitching of the eyebrow.