𝖮𝗋𝖽𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗒 𝖧𝖺𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖽

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏→ 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

❝ 𝐈'𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃, 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑? ❞

True Cross Academy, ah yes. The prestigious high school made to train the next generation of exorcists. Possibly the next paladin.

Training exorcists was a big deal in the country. They practically depended on them as much as they depend on the authorities. Though it was mostly humans who want to live a peaceful life that is.

It was early in the morning at the exorcist academy. There walking down the colorful hall was a girl. She had dark teal hair that were place into two high pony tails with a white bow. She wore a dark cardigan, that didn't quite match the color scheme, with a light blue skirt with white ruffles underneath and white knee socks.

She stopped in front of one of the many doors and knocked. She heard her cue when a muffled "come in"  was heard.

Everybody in the room stared at the newcomer.

Ever since I was five, I've noticed strange things happen. I've seen strange creatures fly around. I see people being consumed by these creatures.

I'd ask my teachers why I see such things. But all they do is laugh at the mere thought and pass it on as my 'imagination'.

At the time I'd often question myself, what are these creatures? Why can I see them? Am I cursed?

I once asked my father about it, he said,

"You, my dear, are gifted."

And with that, I believed I was different from the other children.

But that was all to it. Nothing else happened. Nothing big, nothing wrong.

Everything had gone the way I intended it to be. I was only a spectator of other's games, silently watching as others ripped and cried their hearts out in order to survive. While I sat in the highest chair, not ever breaking a sweat.

People say i'm lucky and I am. I'm not going to deny a fact, that's not how I roll here. Things just don't seem right here. Am I missing something? What could I possibly be missing?

Friends? I'm quite popular already.

Love? My parents adore and fawn over the little things I do, while my cousin practically obsesses over me.

Though that's sort of what most of the main characters to these type of stories are: bland or just outright annoying. Why is that the most saddest characters are the most bright?

I've always asked myself, "Would I be impactful if I risked it? Can my words really mean something to someone?"

But No. I refuse to be some bland character in a story. I'll make my own plot. Buy it, sell this, take it, manipulate that, i'll use my bare hands if needed.

Is this what I am? A bland thing? Is my entire existence solely just to exist? What do I have to do to finally be included? When will this disgusting, sweaty, greasy thirst disappear? I don't care if I'm an antagonist.

I'll make it to the grand premiere. And that's a promise.

"GET MY COUSIN ON THE LINE."