Eleanor looked at the sweet couple from afar. Seeing her sister being caressed by her fiancé, the very same man she had fallen in love with years ago, made her blood boil with jealousy as the unsettling bubbling sensation in her stomach gave her a headache. Her eyes brimmed with tears; she closed her eyes, letting the tears fall down her cheeks. Sensing the pitiful gaze from her maid in the room, Eleanor stood up from her seat and started to walk away from the window. "Let's head to Duke Gerold."
—
"Here, I hereby declare the execution of Eleanor Hawthorne for the crime she has committed against the desires of the Future Emperor, resulting in the poisoning of her sister, the new Future Empress, out of greed, alongside Duke Gerold, who helped her in this case."
Whispers engulfed the crowd of people while Christine sobbed, quietly praying for forgiveness for her poor sister. Prince Heisenberg silently comforted Christine, rubbing his hand on her shoulder. His eyes stared from afar, seeing his ex-fiancée looking at the executioner with cold eyes. He shivered a bit at her look; he slowly closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, I wish I could've told you sooner; then maybe none of this would have happened."
And on that day, Eleanor was executed for her sins.
—
Jaw dropped on the floor, Amara held the novel in her hands, clearly flabbergasted. "No... no way! That's it?" She checked the book cover once again, where the title was written in elegant calligraphy: "The Perilous Path of Christine." Under the title, "Volume 1" was also written. "So there are more volumes of this trashy novel?" She sighed, placing the book on the counter. Nearly 300 pages, the plot had no chill. It was surprising that it had more volumes, meaning to say it had more tragic events. Checking the online feedback on this book, it certainly had a huge fan base. What really ticked Amara off was the unnecessary hate directed at the character, as stated in the novel, the villain: Eleanor. The fans did not consider the betrayal Eleanor felt when her supposed future husband actually had feelings for her sister and was secretly dating her. And they were even happy about it! Which led to the reason why Amara wasn't interested in reading the other volumes. She basically lost her interest halfway and was reluctant to finish it because she was already deep down the rabbit hole.
"I can't believe people turned a blind eye to the protagonists' actions just because they're the main characters." Without hesitation, Amara took the book once again and dumped it in the trash. It wasn't like she wasted a penny on that trashy novel anyway. She had just picked it up from the corner of the street, which had seemingly been accidentally dropped by the owner. "I also can't believe that people waste their money on this." Unlike them, Amara had something to worry about every day: money. Money can solve all problems! And she had none of it. That's why she had all of these problems circling around her life, draining her life span everyday.
Shaking her head lightly, she continued to focus on her shift. She couldn't afford to get fired by the manager, but Amara doubted she would be fired, considering no one really takes care of the convenience store. Checking the clock hanging on the wall, it read 2:50 AM. Amara huffed in exhaustion, "Just 10 minutes more until Robert gets here." Ah, Robert. Probably the only human being she had interacted with. She supposed he was tolerable enough for her to make up conversations sometimes when there was a chance. He was a diligent co-worker and seemed too nice to be working in a rundown convenience store such as this one. 'I guess money can solve problems yet create more when you don't have it.'
The sudden bell from the door rang, jolting Amara from her thoughts. She looked at the entrance, seeing a rather sketchy guy wearing all black, his face completely masked. She raised her brow at this and took a glance outside the store. Amara's eyes caught a glimpse of a group of men waiting outside. 'Shit! This could be a robbery!' Instead of being worried about her safety, she worried more about the money contained in the cash register. 'Just how much will the manager cut from my salary this month!? There's barely anything here in the cash register.'
Occupied with her thoughts once again, the sudden loud thud from the counter made her flinch in surprise, yet there was no reaction on her face. She turned her eyes to the man she had seen earlier at the entrance. He seemed to be nervous under her gaze and silently sighed in relief when Amara started to scan his things for checkout.
"That would be $12.35," Amara stated in a monotone voice as she started to pack the customer's things in a bag. While packing, a sudden click rang near her ear, making her turn her head toward the sound. Only to find a gun directly pointing at her head, she abruptly stopped her movements, looking at the man with wide eyes in surprise. "Give me everything you have in the cash register."
What caused Amara's eyes to widen even more was that she recognized that voice more than anything. "What the fuck... Robert?" The gun pointing at her head slightly trembled. "Don't ask. I really need the money now." With a look of bewilderment, she asked, "You know we don't earn much here, right? And who are those people outside?"
"Stop asking questions! I don't want you getting involved here with that bastard's schemes; just give me anything!" Robert yelled, giving the gun a firm hold. Amara immediately opened the register, taking anything that was left in it. She carefully placed it on the counter. "You're awfully calm for someone who's getting robbed," Robert mumbled under his breath, making Amara smile a little. "I just know you won't hurt me. You're too kind-hearted to do such a thing. I might not know how you got involved in this mess, but I hope you'll be able to settle it and be safe," Amara said truthfully, making Robert grateful for her consideration.
"I should be saying that; I promise to get it back to you. Surely, the manager will cut this off to you instead." Hearing this made Amara sigh. "That's fine; he always has a stick right up his ass anyway."
Robert laughed quietly. "I'll be going now," he said, taking the remaining money off the counter along with the things he supposedly bought. While gathering his stuff, the bell from the entrance rang once again.
Robert immediately swung his head toward the sound, his heart thumping loudly. Amara raised her brow again, seeing another sketchy guy at the door. "Well, well? Would you look at that! Our little Robert being lovey-dovey with the cashier on shift!" The guy walked toward the counter and swung his hand onto Robert's shoulder, bringing poor Robert closer to the sketchy guy. Amara frowned at the interaction.
"Aye, you know 'his bitch,' Robert?" The guy's mood rapidly changed to sour as he glared at Robert. Robert flinched at the guy's gaze. "N-no! Of course not!" Despite Robert's protest, the guy obviously didn't believe him and wore a scowl on his face. Forcefully taking the gun from Robert's grasp, the guy pointed it at Amara, this time with more experience and confidence compared to Robert.
"Let me get this straight: you tell me if you know Robert, and maybe I'll let you out alive or make it less painful for you, alright? Y'know we can't let anyone know about us, especially with how fucking casual you are; it's pissing me off." The guy spat in irritation, some of his saliva flying onto Amara's face. Robert couldn't afford to retort anymore because of the possibility of putting his and Amara's lives in danger. 'I'm so sorry, Amara,' he desperately thought, clutching the money in his hands.
Amara calmly wiped the spit that flew to the side of her face and gave the man a blank look. "Well, did you fucking hear me or what!?" the man shouted in vexation, pressing the gun to Amara's forehead. "So you're the one who's bothering Robert," Amara simply voiced her thoughts, making Robert cry out in worry while the man grew more confused. "Hah???" the man exclaimed, gritting his teeth in agitation. "The fuck you say to me, bitch!?"
"Alright, you're starting to piss me off more than you should. You got a death wish or something!?" Amara still had her toneless expression. "Perhaps I do," she softly whispered and took a deep breath. "A-Amara, what are you doing?" Robert spoke out instinctively, yet he didn't have the time to process what was about to happen next.
It all happened a little too fast. Robert was frozen in place as he carefully looked at the man harassing him on the floor, groaning in pain, his wounds blending with the red wine stained in his clothes. "You bitch!" the man screamed, holding his bleeding forehead. Robert's legs trembled like jelly, and he fell to the floor in shock. "W-what?" He turned his head to Amara, just to see her holding the very end of the wine bottle in her hand. "I don't get paid enough for this shit," Amara muttered in exasperation.
The man cried out in anger, the wine blurring his vision; he cocked the gun in his hand and fired it anywhere, hoping to hit the cashier. The bullet was aimed at the glass window, shattering it to pieces. Robert shrieked in fear, covering his ears. Amara immediately took her phone and ran away, still holding the broken bottle in her grasp. "Come back here, you piece of shit!" he fired his gun once again; this time, the bullet hit the wall beside Amara.
Amara cried out in surprise, the adrenaline pumping in her veins. She quickly got back to her feet and started to run off to the storage room, looking for the back door. Amara's heartbeat was thumping loudly against her ribcage, and she could feel the sound in her ears. She was heaving but continued to run until she found the back door. She hastily opened it with a key, loudly swinging it open, and left the store. She ran as far as her legs could take her, hearing the screams of men behind her. It seemed that the man she had assaulted had backup. "You should've minded your own fucking business, Amara!" Amara cursed herself, turning around the corner of the alley and hiding her body behind the trash.
She was greedily gasping for air but soon covered her mouth, hearing the men walk past the alley. Everything went eerily silent. Amara took her phone and started to dial the police. Her fingers trembled a bit while typing the number and putting the phone beside her ear. As the phone rang, the silence made Amara very nervous, causing her to bite her own nails as a habit. "Please pick up, please pick up...!" she quietly chanted like a mantra.
After what felt like an eternity, the police finally answered the call. "911, what's your emergency?" a man's voice spoke from the other end. "Please help me...! I was getting robbed during my shift earlier, and I fought back in self-defense. They are now looking for me!"
"Understood. What's your current address?" Amara bit her lips, her frown deepening. "I'm not quite sure... I might've run far off from the store."
"That is alright. Can you at least tell me the location of the convenience store?"
"Ah... yes! It's located on Vergara Street—nearby the elementary school, just a few blocks away." Amara tried to sneak a glance outside the alley but soon retreated her head back into hiding when she heard the men coming back again. She silenced her phone, ignoring the shouts of concern on the other end. "Miss? Miss! Do not worry, I'm sending the police to your location!"
Amara covered her mouth once again, hearing one of the men enter the alley. "There you are." She gasped silently, seeing the man hovering above her with an evil smirk. Gun in hand, the man quickly shot Amara in her right shoulder. Amara cried out in pain as the bullet went through her flesh; she continued to weep in agony as she tried to cover the wound to stop the bleeding.
"You've been giving me a hard time, young lady! I would've resolved this peacefully if you had told me you knew who the fuck Robert is." Amara ignored the man's words; her focus remained on her wound. 'F-fuck! Hurts like hell!' "And now, I'm going to have fun with you. Consider this my mercy instead." The following words from the man made Amara go numb. Mustering the small strength Amara had left, she reached out for the broken bottle. As the man hovering above her leaned closer, she gave the bottle a firm grip and stabbed it into the man's leg. The man howled in pain, blood gushing out onto the floor. Amara let out her last cry, pushing the bottle further into the man's flesh.
In instinct, the man cocked his gun once again and shot Amara straight in the head. This silenced Amara's screams, her body limping on the ground. "Fucking bitch," the man cursed under his breath, groaning in pain. The sirens from the police rang across the streets, making the man spew profanities. He quickly walked away, sounds of affliction following him as he left Amara's body rotting in the alley.
The clock had struck 3:00 AM.
And on that dawn, Amara was killed for protecting herself.
—
There was one thing Amara hated the most: the lack of privilege she had when growing up. She couldn't grasp what other children had, and one thing that made her simmer in jealousy all these years was family. She never had one. Ever since she was born, she was immediately thrown into an orphanage because of an unwanted pregnancy.
"They could've at least put me in a decent orphanage," teenager Amara would usually joke about her misery, yet she cried each night in agony. She hated how she had to live this way, always looking at other people's families with envy.
But the grown-up Amara couldn't be bothered anymore. She learned a lesson after living a hellish life fending for herself. It was that she couldn't rely on anyone other than herself. If she couldn't save herself from poverty, who would? Instead of dwelling on crying each night, Amara wasted her energy on working. Working, working, working. An endless cycle she found herself in, but she couldn't stop if she wanted to. If she did, who would feed her? No one but herself. No one would take care of her as much as she took care of herself. Consider it self-love instead. She possibly couldn't love anyone other than herself.
Despite the false assurance Amara tells herself that she doesn't need anyone, everyone knows a person needs another person to support them in their lives. Perhaps that's why she feels comforted by Robert's presence alone. He is a breath of fresh air she can digest after a long day at college. They might not be close enough to know each other's hobbies or favorite things, but they are friends they unintentionally made along the way through tough times together, even if Amara wouldn't admit it.
There was one thing Amara had also wished for. She prayed every night that if she worked hard enough, she could lead herself to a decent and simple life, where she wouldn't have to worry about surviving and looking for money every day—and live to an old age.
All of that wishful thinking was reduced to dust as her extremely injured body was left to decay in the alley. "Maybe it's better this way," were her last thoughts before completely losing consciousness, the pain in her body slowly going numb as she drew her last breath in torment.
Up...!
ke Up...!
Wake up...!
[MISS AMARA, WAKE UP! ]
Huh?
End of Prologue.