Having a sword plunged straight through my heart ten years ago was bad enough, but for some fucking reason, everything seems to keep going down hill. I'm trying my best, my damned best to keep it all in. I'm an ordinary person that's living a mediocre life, so I hoped that I could ask for something little to help me push forward. Well, that's all that it stayed to be, hope.
Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, my black hair was at a length that certainly needed to be trimmed down. Unfortunately, I couldn't even muster up the strength to even do that. Grabbing the red shirt I had on, I would slowly take it off, placing it on the floor as I stared at the giant scar on the left side of my chest. I didn't know how I was even alive, but here I am breathing the same air as everyone else. Nonetheless, this is a type of life where dying does not seem so different.
Ten years ago I lived a slightly better life than I did now with my little sister and both parents. I couldn't remember much of it, but my grandfather told me the story of what went down. My parents were slightly above average people, all because they were part of the R.P.A, which stood for the Ravengers Prevention Association. Apparently they slowly lost their sanity dealing with all of that bullshit and tried ending my little sister's life while I tried my damned best to protect her.
I was told that it was miraculous how I survived and doctors weren't able to properly give me or my grandfather an explanation on how I survived, just that I should be grateful. To what? That's just hilarious and thinking back on it, I couldn't help but to laugh. However, I don't really have that luxury to laugh or go to my breaking point because I needed to do my best in life so I could take care of my sister and grandfather. After that incident with my parents, they soon got locked up and my grandfather took us in.
I'm grateful for all that he's done for us, I really am, but at the same time there's an irritation that I can't escape. I was upset because in a few hours, I'll need to be attending his funeral. A deep sigh escaped from me as I got one last glance at my scar, turning around and walking off to get ready. I recently just graduated high school and I'm a legal adult, which makes things easier to become a guardian for my sister. Downside is the issue with money and living. It was time to kiss college goodbye.
At the very least, he did leave us something before he kicked the bucket. It should last us for a month or two if we're smart about how we spend. With that amount of time, I'm quite confident that I could get some kind of shitty ass job that pays the bills. Coming out of my bedroom in a black suit, my sister Nadia had met me right outside the door. Her expression could destroy the heart of anyone. "Rhyven…I'm hungry…" she said with a tear running down her face.
A quick twitch from my eye would come about as I forced a gentle smile on my face. That welling ball of steamed flames inside me had to be forced to swell down and out. Like I said, I didn't have the luxury to lose it. I needed to be soft spoken, kind, and gentle. Like a role model and brother. "There should be some food at the funeral, just hold on a little longer." At times, I feel like she has the courage to rule over the world, but at the end of the day, she's still a child who recently turned thirteen. We had a five year age gap and it honestly felt embarrassing when she was able to make better decisions than I ever could.
We both gave each other a nod as we made our way out to the destination of the funeral. Luckily, there was food. The funeral lasted for a short two hours and throughout the entirety of it, I felt nothing. My sister beside me sobbed her heart out, but I couldn't even feel anything. There was no sadness or tears. I wasn't sure why, but I was able to force the necessary expression on my face to prevent any annoying questions. Not like there's many people to even ask me.
Other than us two, there were also two more people that I have never seen the face of before. They claimed to be friends of my grandfather, but I highly doubt that's the case. He was old over the hills and I remembered his annoyance with the younger generation. These two seemed to be about the age of a middle aged couple. Eh, whatever. It was too much work to think too deeply about it, anyways. My mind was too occupied with getting a job that could actually allow me and my sister to live our lives.
Low and behold, one of the two people walked towards me with a clear as day fake smile, handing me what seemed to be a business card. In reality, I wanted to make a face that showed pure disgust and frustration, but once again, I needed to force a gentle smile on my face. Grabbing the business card, I would look down at it for a few moments before looking back up to the man. "Ah, Rhyven! My condolences to your grandfather, he was a great man. I heard about your situation and how you needed to find a job. If you're interested, let's meet here at my office and discuss."
How in the living fuck does he know I needed to find a job? My eyes began to twitch as this thought processed through my mind. I should backhand his dirty looking ass face into the mud because this was an insult to my intelligence. This was more than just suspicious. Then, after a few seconds, my expression relaxed. A sigh would come out from me as I pocketed the card. Perhaps I shouldn't be too quick to judge because what if there was truth in what he said. A job is a job, and money is money. "Sure, that would be great. Can you at least tell me what this work is going to be?"
I swear, I fucking swear a condescending smile almost appeared on his face when I asked that, dammit. "Nothing too difficult, of course. I own a construction company, so it's going to be related to that. I'll have to follow up on exactly what position you'll be put in because I'm still not too sure about your strengths and weaknesses. That's why an interview between the two of us would be helpful." Man…This has to be some bullshit or I'm just a buffoon because this kind of sounds believable. Everything changed from the way he spoke and his demeanor.