Prologue

Everything was dark.

Nothing made sense besides the soft black void that folded its arms around him; and he didn't care if things made sense or not. Nothing could beat this moment, here, sinking into mulled depths; sinking so deep he had no way of crawling out—and he didn't care. His heart pumped lethargically in the cavity of his chest; a faint, feeble reminder that he's still alive. Voices were mulled; ghosts simply passing by, his slumped body one of many in the musty alleyway. Brick scrapped along the back of his neck, ripping along the tender flesh there. Puddles of standing water were speckled along the alley, glowing red lights flickering in the reflection. Rain drizzled down, covering everything in a wet, fine sheet. While ghosts shifted around him for cover; he remained where he was, foundering and fading away.

He just didn't give a fuck.

He wanted to stay here forever, in pitch-black, oblivious oblivion. He could die right now, here in this very spot; and he'd die a happy man.
Life didn't mean shit to him, anyways.
It was a never-ending cycle, a rat race he always inevitably found himself in.

Rejected.

Abandoned.

Hated.

Isolated.

Lost.

And losing, still.

He exhaled, wishing the breath would whoosh out of his lungs one last time. He didn't want to breath in, he didn't want to keep fighting to survive.

To put it plainly, he wanted to die.
His mind was abysmal, an explosive black hole of a space he no longer wanted to remain in. His heart was shattered; billions of pieces of sand, slipping through the cracks in his swollen hand. He tried to curl his fist, but he couldn't find the energy to. He tried to raise his arm, but it was far too heavy for him to lift on his own. He was being weighed down, his dwindling resolve cement on his feet; pulling him down deeper and deeper into a sea of graphite; adhering to his bones, making him just so fucking heavy.

Someone could rob me...he thought...
And he didn't care...

Someone could stab me...he thought...
And he didn't care...

Someone could suffocate me, wrap their hands around my throat and squeeze...he thought...
And he hoped they would...

He hoped this was the last time, for good this time. He hoped there was no waking; no nausea, no aching. He hoped there was a god, some celestial being waiting on the other side to condemn him; cast him into hell where he knew he belonged.
He hoped...

And when he heard her voice, soft singing that made his heart ache; he knew his time had come. Jade eyes struggled to crack open; fought to focus on the looming angel's face. Her eyes were swirling garnet stones, sparkling and shining and devastating him all the same. Her aura was bright; a brilliant glow that burned through his eyelids, exposing the strained rooted veins. Warm hands clasped over the ice of his face, melting him. She was talking, but he couldn't hear her. She was moving, but he didn't know where. She was leaving, and he found...

He cared.