In a world where many yearned for lives different from their own, few ever achieved such aspirations. These thoughts reverberated through my mind as I absentmindedly stared at the television, where a charismatic host posed this question to his viewers. Truth be told, I cared little for the show or anything else at that moment. I had turned on the TV simply to drown out the cacophony emanating from the hallway outside. This was my usual retreat during those heated family arguments. From the heated screams echoing in the house, it appeared my family had plunged deep into the abyss of poverty.
I could hear my mother's cries as she beseeched my father to find a more stable job. She herself was gradually withering away, bearing the burden of managing our business and keeping our fractured family afloat. I had always believed my family didn't care for me. They had never supported any of my life decisions. Don't get me wrong, my family didn't abuse me, except for my father's occasional bursts of physical anger. Among this chaotic family, my mother was the only one who maintained any semblance of decency. Even though she was often absent, tending to our family business, she had ensured I lived a life of relative luxury. I, however, was an ungrateful son, never once thanking her and instead blaming her for not having time for us. This had been my enduring regret, ever since I grew older and obtained a job to gain some maturity. As human nature dictates, I was now too late to mend the fractures as I watched my family disintegrate.
I witnessed my parents tearing each other apart, leaving my troubled brother and youngest sibling in their wake. I, the eldest and supposed breadwinner, should have stepped in, spoken to them, and offered help. But, as some would say, there's no room for regret. I had had enough of my own folly. I decided to put an end to it all. I wondered if it would alleviate my family's suffering even slightly. I don't know what came over me, but at that moment, I mustered the courage to follow through, hoping to escape the mess I had created. So, I did it. I ascended to the rooftop of our apartment building, standing there as rain and lightning clashed in the sky. I shielded myself from the harsh wind with my arms, approaching the edge of the rooftop. But as I inched closer, a shout from behind called my name, "Brother!" I turned briefly, seeing my youngest brother, who had followed me up. My heart broke when I saw him, and I began to cry, smiling as I told him, "Don't follow me." But he was just a child, and I couldn't bear for my brothers to witness my suicide. As a final act of filial love, I asked him for a favor.
"Hey, can you let the others know that they don't have to worry anymore? They'll have one less problem in their lives now," I said to reassure him. He didn't believe a word I said, but my smile seemed to calm him. He nodded and descended the stairs, casting one last glance at me before leaving.
I sighed, looking back one final time to confirm my brother's departure. Then, I continued to the edge, gazing down at the precipitous drop below. People often said that when you faced death, your entire life flashed before your eyes. I couldn't be certain, as I had been afraid of death once, but now, staring at my demise, I felt an unexpected calmness. It reminded me of a lesson from my grandparents: they had always said that God was always listening. I had never really pondered this until now. As a last resort for my sanity, I shouted my deepest wish into the air.
"God, or any higher being listening to me, please give me a chance to redeem myself! I promise I'll be a better person!" I cried, tears mingling with the rain as I slowly lifted my feet off the edge. I closed my eyes, ready to let go. Just as I jumped, I heard people shouting and running toward me, but there was nothing they could do now that I had made my decision. In the brief moment of descent, I spotted a gray speck as I struggled to open my eyes. The gray speck in front of me smiled, and the next second, darkness enveloped me.
To my surprise, I realized that death was strangely comforting. My instincts urged me to move, even though I had no idea where I was. All I could feel was my consciousness and a cold yet calming darkness surrounding me. As if guided by some primal instinct, I walked on. Strangely, the more I walked, the brighter my soul became.
After an interminable journey, I reached the end. That's when I knew I could move my head and take in my surroundings. Before me lay nothing but a radiant light, and a mysterious black door that stood without any visible support. As if controlled by an unseen force, my hand reached for the door handle. However, just as I was about to turn it, I heard a voice call out to me.
"Please take care of them for me!" the voice cried. I opened the door, and blinding light filled my vision. My senses went haywire, and I heard countless footsteps around me, causing anxiety to surge within me. Thoughts raced through my mind, fear that I might have survived the fall and would burden my family with exorbitant medical bills. I lacked the courage to face them, not now, and perhaps not ever.
Amidst my inner turmoil, a female voice cut through the chaos. "I hope the young master awakens soon. I fear this incident will deeply trouble madam," she said. This added to my confusion. I could only grasp certain words: young master, incident, and madam, like constellations in a foreign sky. "Why are they using these words? They sound like something from a bygone era, not everyday speech," I pondered. But I realized I had no time for such musings; I needed to open my eyes, understand my situation, and face whatever lay ahead.
"Ughh," I groaned, summoning every ounce of strength to lift myself up and coax my eyes open. An air of urgency pervaded the room, and a commanding male voice rang out, as if giving hurried directives to an unseen cohort.
As my vision gradually emerged from a sea of blurriness, I could make out a group of people gathered around me, their expressions a blend of trepidation and confusion. "Where in the world am I?" The question was the first to surface, escaping my lips instinctively. The figures surrounding me were dressed in distinctive maid uniforms, and on my right, a man adorned in a tailored tailcoat provided much-needed support.
"Young master, have you forgotten? This is the West Rayos Manor, owned by your family," the butler-like man spoke with a tone of familiarity. Yet, in my befuddled state, all I could think was, "What on earth is the Rayos Manor?" My mind was a whirlwind of uncertainty and bewilderment.
"No, I don't even recall how I ended up here. All I remember is that I shouldn't even be alive right now," I confessed, clutching my head in agony. Gasps of horror rippled through the surrounding crowd, their faces etched with shock and concern.
"Stop! Anything uttered by the young master should be attributed to the aftermath of the incident. Not a word of this shall reach the madam's ears," the butler commanded, his voice carrying an authoritative weight as he attempted to pacify the bewildered onlookers.
"Um, could everyone kindly remain silent for a moment?" I entreated, my fingers pressed against my throbbing temples. As I uttered this plea, my consciousness began to wane, slipping away like sand through my grasp. Just before it disappeared entirely, I caught sight of a distinguished woman entering the room. She exuded an air of prestige and authority, and she was accompanied by a dignified, older gentleman who shared her aura of significance. Their presence hinted at deeper mysteries that awaited my discovery in this enigmatic world of West Rayos Manor.