Chapter 1
Sally's Life
The setting sun cast long shadows across the bustling city street. Sally, a vibrant and beautiful young woman of 25, stepped onto the crosswalk, the pedestrian light turning into welcoming green. A surge of people, a human tide, flowed across the street, each with their own destination, their own stories. Sally, known for her kindness and quick wit, noticed an elderly woman struggling to keep pace, her steps faltering with age. With a smile, Sally offered a hand, her heart filled with a quiet compassion.
The older woman, grateful for the assistance, moved slowly, their steps now synchronized. Soon, only the two of them remained on the crosswalk. Suddenly, the world dissolved into a cacophony of screeching tires and blaring horns. A car, speeding recklessly, coming towards them. Sally, a split second before the impact, knew she could dodge the vehicle, but the elderly woman, caught in the path of the upcoming terror, could not.
Without a second thought, driven by an instinctive urge to protect the elderly woman, Sally pushed her out of the way. The impact threw her violently against the pavement, leaving her bloodied and unconscious.
Sally woke up, disoriented and groggy, in the sterile white of a hospital room. Her head throbbed, a dull ache that resonated through her skull. Thick, white bandages shrouded her face. She tried to speak, but her voice emerged as a strangled whisper.
A wave of dread washed over her. Desperate for answers, she scrambled out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Her heart pounded as she carefully removed the bandages, one by one, with trembling hands.
She stopped at her nose, her mind going blank. Her hands trembled, tears streaming down her face, but she didn't realize it. She stared blankly at the mirror, taking a step back, then another, and another. Her back hit the wall, her body numb, her strength gone. Her nose was gone. With a final, desperate effort, she pulled away the remaining bandages. Her reflection was a stranger, a hollow skeleton with stitched flesh on her cheek. She no longer resembled her former self.
She slid down to the floor, staring blankly at the empty space. After a while, she came back to her senses, feeling a wetness on her face. She swiped at it, again and again, but the tears wouldn't stop. She realized she was crying, and she had been oblivious. Soon, she was sobbing uncontrollably on the bathroom floor.
She felt suffocated and despair filled her heart. Suddenly, a middle-aged woman entered the room. It was her aunt. "You're finally wakes up," she said, her voice laced with a peculiar blend of pity and judgment. "I thought you might never wake up. You've been here ten days. Your boyfriend visited once, but he possibly won't see you again. Seeing your face… he's probably forgotten you." The words, cold and sharp, pierced Sally's fragile heart like shards of ice.
She paid the hospital bill, almost depleting her savings. She didn't have much left, after all, almost all of her salary had gone to her aunt.
Returning to her aunt's home, she found a place that had once been a refuge now felt like a prison, its walls closing in on her, its atmosphere thick with hostility. Her aunt, her cousin, and her uncle treated her with open contempt, their sneering whispers of "waste of food" a constant, agonizing torment. She attempted to return to work, but when they saw her face, the boss immediately kicked her out, his eyes filled with disgust.
She searched for food in her aunt's house, but found nothing. Hunger gnawed at her relentlessly, her suffering intensified with each passing day, until finally, she was cast out onto the unforgiving streets. She was left with nothing but the clothes on her back and a heart heavy with despair.
She sought work, applying for any position she could find—even as a dishwasher—but was consistently rejected, her disfigured face proving an insurmountable obstacle. The world seemed to have turned its back on her, leaving her alone and lost in the vastness of her misery.
Winter descended, its icy fingers wrapping around her, amplifying her suffering. Sleepless nights on the cold pavement were punctuated by the ever-present gnawing hunger. The bitter wind howled through the streets, a constant reminder of her isolation and the harsh reality of her situation.
Her meager funds, the last vestiges of her savings, dwindled with each passing day. Then, in a cruel twist of fate, a gang of thugs, their faces shadowed in the darkness, robbed and beat her. Their contempt for her disfigured face was palpable, their violence a cruel reflection of the world's indifference. The casual cruelty of strangers—disdainful glances, thrown stones—became a constant, every time someone saw her. Rumors spread throughout the city, whispers of an "ugly woman, like a monster" covering her face.
She sighed, a sound heavy with despair and loss, as she walked alone on the cold street, trying to find shelter from the biting wind. But no one, no one ever helped her. The city, once a place of hope, had become cold.
As Sally walked down the street, a woman's voice, laced with mocking laughter, pierced the air. "Is that your ex-girlfriend?" she sneered, her words dripping with cruelty. Before Sally could react, the woman roughly pulled away the scarf she'd been using to shield her face, revealing the raw, scarred landscape that was once her beauty.
"Look at her," the woman sneered, her eyes gleaming with malicious amusement, "so ugly, like a monster." A man stood beside the woman, his face twisted in a familiar smirk. It was Daniel, her boyfriend.
Sally's heart pounded, a mixture of hope and dread coursing through her veins. She stumbled towards him, her voice hoarse and desperate. "Daniel," she whispered, "you're finally here."
Daniel, his eyes cold and uncaring, pulled the woman close, his arm encircling her waist. "To tell you the truth," he said, his voice laced with a chilling indifference, "I wanted to tell you that day. I don't love you anymore. I love Ashley." His gaze, devoid of any affection, swept over her disfigured face. "As for you, I never loved you, not even from the beginning. Do you think I would care about you if not for your beauty? Now that you look so ugly, it makes me vomit when I look at you." His words, sharp and cutting, sliced through her already wounded heart, leaving her reeling in pain and disbelief.
Sally stood there, her gaze fixed on him, her body a frozen statue of pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision. She watched, numb with shock, as Daniel and Ashley disappeared into the crowd, their laughter echoing in the air, a mocking reminder of her shattered dreams. Her heart, once filled with love and hope, now felt empty, a hollow space filled with sadness and sorrow. She was left alone, a solitary figure in a cruel and indifferent world. The world, once a place of love and warmth, had transformed into a desolate wasteland, mirroring the emptiness she felt within.
The crowd, their faces twisted with disdain and a cruel curiosity, parted around her, leaving her standing alone in the heart of the city, a silent testament to her shattered life. The woman named Ashley and Daniel, her boyfriend, were gone. She stood there, staring blankly at the empty space where they had stood, her heart a hollowed-out shell of pain. Tears continuously flowed down her cheeks, blurring the world around her.
It couldn't be true, she thought, her mind refusing to accept the harsh reality. Even Daniel, the man who had once been kind, gentle, and treated her with such care, had uttered those cruel words. The man she had loved, the man who had promised her forever, had rejected her with such callous indifference. Her world had crumbled around her, leaving her broken and alone.
Soon, the crowd dispersed, leaving her alone, standing still, heart broken in the middle of falling snow. She felt colder and colder, the biting wind piercing her thin clothing. She found a large oak tree, its bark rough against her skin, and sat down, leaning against its sturdy trunk for support. Time passed, the minutes stretching into hours, the hours into a long, agonizing night. Sally remained there, alone, her body numb with cold, her disfigured lips cracked and bleeding.
After a while, a warmth spread through her, a strange, comforting warmth. She knew what it was. She smiled bitterly, remembering a life that seemed like a dream now. Even though her parents had died in a car accident when she was a child, her aunt and her family treated her as their own. She had a gentle, kind, and caring boyfriend, and a stable job.
But now, everything is gone. Her family, which she thought cared for her, had abandoned her. Her boyfriend, the man who had promised her forever, had rejected her with such callous indifference. Her work, her livelihood, had vanished in the blink of an eye. The whole world, it seemed, had turned its back on her.
She looked at the moon in the sky, slowly covered by clouds, and asked, "Why? Why didn't I die? If only I could have died, I would have been spared this painful fate."
Soon, her vision blurred, and she slipped into unconsciousness, her dreams fading into the darkness forever.
In a world called Myr, a young girl, no older than twelve or thirteen, opened her clear blue eyes. .
Story continues…