Chapter 2

The sharp smell of disinfectant pulled me back from endless darkness. Although the system wouldn’t let me die, each death felt real.

From the pain of the first death to the later ones, I was left with only numbness and despair. The fear of death, with its body and soul pain and boundless loneliness, was still vivid.

I curled up, hugging myself, tears like a broken kite falling one by one:

“Asher, it hurts.”

“Asher, I’m scared.”

“Asher, save me.”

…I cried and cried, on and off for a month. But the Asher who descended like a god in the alley at 18 to save me never came. Worse, the one who saved me became the source of all my pain.

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