Died Twice Yesterday

Chapter 0 (Prolonge)

Please read this chapter, it's important!

(America's POV)

I wake up from the last night's nightmare, that makes the 47th one I've had in row. Most people would call it unhealthy, but no one has to know. I don't want to bother people with my stupid problems, they wouldn't care anyways. No one does. N̵̲̜̬̰̻͐͌̅̆̈̅͜o̴̭͖͙͓̮͂̉̽̓̀͜ ̸̢̤̟͔̄O̶͇̭̜̳̓̈́̈́͝n̷̝̄̽̃͌e̸̪͐͑̕͝ ̶̺̜̔C̴̨̧̨̭̻̖̏̑̕a̴͍̺͛̌̉r̷̨̨͉̠̹͝e̶̦̦͍̋́̅ş̵̝̼̗̚ ̴̡̡̢͓̹̩̔͐͋̚A̸̩̍̀͆̂b̷̙͎̭̏o̶̫̲̓̓́u̵̼̭̺̲̬̔͗̈́͘t̵̛̺̆̀̑ ̸̧̩̥̰̖͈̈́͛̈́́͊y̸̤̺̬̘̠͍̋ŏ̸̳͇̻ṷ̷̋̋ I wish for once to just sleep soundly throughout the night. Then again, I deserve it. No one cares. The world is fucked. And it's my fault. I can go die. I sigh and get up and go to the bathroom and take a shower. W̴̱̆͑a̵̙̎s̵̟̎͛ͅt̸̝̖̿́e̷̩͑ ̴͆͒͜͜o̷̫̿f̷̭̹̾͘ ̶̙͙̈͑s̷̘͝p̸̧͖̀̈́a̷̢̫̅̑c̷͇̰̈́ĕ̵̺. I can hear dad yelling about something downstairs, I could care less. I finish my shower and make my way down stairs. Walk towards the living room, and slump down onto the sofa. I hear Canada on the phone in the other room, I try not to bother him. He probably doesn't wanna talk to an insignificant loser like me though. Ḍ̴̂̆ù̸̱m̴̯͙̈́n̴̢̋a̸̪͗͛s̷̨͊̌s̵̺͐̐. I check tumbler, watch some YouTube videos, and generally be a totally worthless waste of space.

I make my way back into my room up stairs, a bit disheartened that I didn't get a chance to talk to Canada. He's probably bored of me.C̴̟̙͙̐ͅà̸̯̞͓͚n̴͓̎͌̀'̶̞̈́̒ͅt̸͖̼̄͒͊ ̴͍̌͐͊d̴̨͚̳̣̑̃̂o̵͓̝͘ ̷̥͔͈̬̈ă̶̜̺̈́̈́ń̴̛͉͎̪͖͊y̶̼̙͆t̸̽ͅh̶͔͆i̸͈̚n̸̤͍͑̆͋͑g̷̛̹̀̈́ ̵̬͓̠̥̔̋ŗ̵͈̱͋̓͛ͅį̵̗͉̬̈́g̵̹̒̌h̸͔̥̮͐͊̓ṭ̴͔̉ͅ

I begin to to get a migraine, here we go again. Not an unusual occurrence for me, but this one was way worse. I lump on to my bed, holding my head in pain. It'll be over soon. The headache I mean. I do have plans, but not now. The pain didn't stop though, it was pounding out of my skull. Like a large body builder was knocking on the inside of my head. Then it was black.

I had a dream, the only thing I could hear was a slight ringing in my ear. Then silence. Then a familiar voice affirm's a blatant I̷̪͝ͅ ̸̨̻̾́c̴͚̈́ą̵̾̇n̶̫̦̆̐ ̴̢̼͑̀H̴̩̓ē̶̙Ḷ̴̓̄P̶͖̜͆. To which I follow were the voice is coming from, and it leads me to a lab. Were I see a syringe. In it was a bright green and red liquid. Very very bright. Almost......glowing? And the voice says condacedingly that, T̶̢̐h̸̤͗i̸͙̕s̵̖̒ ̴͙́w̸̝͘i̴͍̽l̸̪̿l̶͖͐ ̷̣͌s̵̗̈́ȍ̴͓l̵͎̔v̶̥̇ę̸̈ ̶̢͠a̴̩͊l̴͉̕ḻ̴̎ ̸͖̀o̴͔̚f̷̡̍ ̵̖͗y̴͎̽o̵̡̽ū̶̙r̴̘͋ ̷̗͑p̴͕͛r̶̗͠ő̶̜b̶͖̂l̷̞̆e̵̗͒m̷̝̏s̶̙̈́. And then it's black. Again.

I wake up in a cold sweat. My heard hurts. And my mind is in a never ending whirlpool that seemingly leads nowhere. I know one thing, maybe, just maybe, if I follow the voice, it will end this. This suffering, this pain, all of the sleepless nights. So, I follow the voice.

Which was my first mistake.

The voice leads me to the same abandoned science lab I saw in the dream, how to navigate through it was another problem, I slowly crept through the winding hallways and the deserted test rooms to find a single room. A small room. Outside the door was a toxic symbol, the kind of thing that tells you to back off if you don't have a gas mask. what a great sign. Inside the compact room was a desk, someone obviously left in a hurry. Things were scattered over the dusty and creaky floor boards, papers, books, notes, shattered test tubes. I checked the time before I left, it said 1:00 AM, which contributed to the uncomfortable and almost erie, haunted feel of this place. Makes you wonder why this place was deserted.

I look up a bit from were I was preciously looking down, and do a lap around the room, nothing super important looking, then something caught my eye. a suspicious looking letter. Hand written in some sort of red ink. To thin and light to be blood. It was written in a language that I sadly couldn't understand, but attached to it was the syringe I saw in my dream. A green and red bubbly bright mixture. Couldn't miss it. I said aloud to myself "what's the worst that could happen?"

That was my second mistake.

I injected the odd concoction into my my shoulder. Which hurt like a bitch. The last thing I could remember before I slipped into unconscious was the distinct, loathsome and abhorrent laghter of the voice.

My third and final mistake, a mistake I would never be able to recover from.

And then I passed out.

•°•-----------------------------------------•°•
Sorry for the short chapter! I got a tad bit impatient and bord at the end there. Wanna get to the good stuff!

Don't worry about my other books btw, there not discontinued, just a work in progress. A little bit of writers block yea know.

Bye bye! ~Dounut

Word Count: 787