❝LIFE IS JUST A LUCID DREAM.❜❜
❝IF LIFE IS A LUCID DREAM, THEN WHY CANT I CONTROL IT?❜❜
Tasked with the constant struggles of life, [Y/N] enters UA on a whim to become a hero. Her flirtatious nature makes her instantly popular, but she soon takes it...
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prologue
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Cigarettes. The unholy matrimony of habits and addictions, the cobbler of the workshop that persists pay from its customers,
the demon of a hell that does not define others but defines itself; deadly, addictive, and welcoming. The smell, the taste, the texture, it was always so welcoming and embracing that it'd tip you on your feet, making sure that you were begging for more until your last penny dropped onto the counter in front of the cashier. It was always a choice between red or blue camels but no one could choose as both were quality. Both could potentially kill, but no one minded when it came to relieving their stress in a fast way. Sometimes, people smoked out of boredom. But most of the time it was because of the sadness and burdens that life dumps onto you like a pile of trash.
It was admittedly hard to get out of an addiction of any sort. Whether it be cigarettes, alcohol, self harm, drugs, you name it. Addictions were called so for a reason. They have a special ability to drag you in like a tiger clawing at its prey, waiting until the last chunk of meat is ruthlessly teared off before nawing on the bones.
Now, excuse the constant analogies, but wasn't there a better way to get rid of such problems and anxieties? It was as if some didn't know the definition of a therapist or guardian that would guide you through the path of life like a God would. What some didn't know, is that the path of light that so many seek flickers on and off, waiting for the bulb to be replaced by someone or something new.
Until that bulb dies out, and everything becomes dark once more. That's were addictions come in. It's a replacement bulb, but it's more of an LED setup then a regular, old fashioned bulb. It stays for so long that you can't get tired of it, and you continue to buy more and more until soon enough, your cabinet is filled with so many LED bulbs; or, in this case, your cabinet may be filled with more dangerous thing than LED bulbs.
[Y/N] couldn't recall a time where she hadn't seen her dad smoking. Whether he was in the foyer or propped onto his office desk, he always had a lit cigarette hanging from his lips. The singular addictive object made him look like a slob, and [Y/N] was sure that he knew so. His whole attire wasn't messy, not at all, but the smoke that drawled from his mouth was unsightly, and everyone shared the same outlook. Everyone, except the people who did the same as him. It was almost terrifying to see his body slowly wither away, along with hearing dreadful coughs while the sun was at its rest. Once more, [Y/N] could not recall one moment where she hadn't been woken up by her fathers disgusting coughing. It sounded like he had been stabbed repeatedly, when in reality he was being stabbed, but by different, interior things.
But, even after all of the swollen and painful memories that [Y/N] could barely recall, she still wondered why she was sitting beside her dying father, while her mother sobbed next to her. Faintly, she heard smaller sobs from across the room which came from her brothers and sisters, who surprisingly took time out of their day to visit their dying dad. She wouldn't call them heartless, no, even that was too nice for them. Even so, she refused to ridicule them allowed as this was a sentimental moment. Though she wouldn't admit that she too had cried.
