I find it hard to sleep.
Whenever I close my eyes I see my father's cold, dead stare, and my mother's bloody corpse.
I feel the cold hand on my shoulder of the man who killed them as he steers me away, stealing everything I love.
But whenever I open them, I see the decaying apartment walls of my room, and I feel the loneliness and hate course through my veins.
Hate for the man that took my life away. And the loneliness of being a young woman in a huge city with no one to talk to, let alone trust.
My only way out was an upcoming tournament. The prize was 10 million zeni for first place. For second place, was 5 million. Less but still enough to live adequately on.
Day one of the tournament started at 8 am tomorrow and I was already off to a bad start, as I couldn't get a wink of sleep.
I slipped off the rickety old bed, patting across the rotten floorboards to the bathroom.
I pulled the light cord, making a loud clunking noise before the light overhead flickered on.
I stared at my own face in the scuffed mirror. My (h/c) hair hung limply down the sides of my face, and my (e/c) eyes looked red and tired, yet sleepless.
I sighed and attempted to tie my hair behind my head, and splashed my face with warm water, before trudging back to bed.
I lay beneath my soft blanket and huffed as I stared at the ceiling.
As my thoughts drifted, I faded away into darkness, dream creeping up on my conscious.
I was standing in the arena, ready to fight. The man standing in front of me was my parents murderer.
He gave me an evil look before deftly firing two bullets into my skull, blood pouring into my eyes.
I woke with a jolt and shook my head.
I glanced at the old clock pinned up on the wall.
6.00 am on the dot. Might as well get up....
