I always knew life was more of a curse than something divine.
A sentence disguised as a miracle.
A dirty game with invisible rules, where most play blindfolded thinking they're winning.
For me, it's more than proven: life isn't a gift, it's a prison disguised as a party.
And since this stupid world prefers to believe in collective illusion, anyone who sees the cracks in the system is quickly labeled crazy.
Maybe I am. The only one awake inside the nightmare while everyone else still dreams.
"Nossa! It's LL, what a hottie!"
"Oh my God, he must have been drawn by God for days!"
"Think he'll give me his number? Or even his address!?"
"Stop dreaming, crazy! LL only looks at Elisabeth."
To be honest, I'm Luter Daven.
But you know me as "LL," that ridiculous name that became a brand in the university halls. A top model. Popular with the girls.
Those compliments up there? I hear them every day. Just open my apartment door and walk 30 meters to the university. Yeah, I live right next to that hell.
You think it's the best, right? A bunch of people drooling over me, shouting my name like I'm a celebrity. But let me tell you something: this look has never saved me.
Never paid the bills. Never filled the empty stomach. Never calmed my mind before sleep.
Yes, I have the package many would pay to have: perfect height, sleek black hair, photoshopped blue eyes, a body in standard.
But what good is it when debts eat me alive? When the landlord knocks like the devil demanding my soul?
My modeling career was promising… until I refused to sleep with the assholes running the top. They paid well, but not enough for me to sell my dignity.
Call it what you want: principles, stubbornness, or stupidity. The world rewards those who bend and spits on those who try to stand. And I'm tired of being spat on.
At the back of the classroom, I rest my head on my hand and sigh.
"Haaa… what a life this is…"
The classmates whisper, sneak pictures like I'm some rare animal. Honestly, I should go to the police and report harassment. But I don't have time for that.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Probably another bill. But it's just a message from the provider.
"Phew… what a relief," I say sarcastically.
Still, I have to figure out how to get out of debt before my life ends before it even starts.
I look out the window. Third floor. Heavy sky. It's going to rain.
And then… a crow lands. Not in a hurry. Not scared. Just lands… and stares at me.
I've always liked crows. Not because of fashion or teenage drama. But because I see myself in them: smart survivors, misunderstood, seen as omens of death when they're actually pure adaptation.
In many cultures, they're messengers, symbols of war, wisdom, or change. And when one shows up at my window… something is about to change.
"LL, always watching crows?" Sara approaches.
"Looks like nursing school isn't enough to distract me!" I joke, but I see her face drop.
"Sara? What's wrong?"
She pulls me out of the classroom. In the empty hallway, she drops the bomb:
"Elisabeth had an accident coming back to London."
My scream echoes. Sara holds me back so I don't draw attention.
"She's been in the hospital for two days, in critical condition. I didn't want you to know, but… it got worse."
I ditch the job interview and run to the hospital. On the way, the phone rings — landlord. Airplane mode. Screw it.
According to Sara, her room is 123. In the hall, I see a tired woman, lost look, cold coffee in hand. Elisabeth's mother.
I wanted to run, tell her I loved her. But Beth kept our relationship secret. I take a deep breath.
"Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm Elisabeth's classmate. I came to see her."
She looks at me with red eyes… and a strange glow.
"I hope so, son. She's my greatest treasure."
We turn toward the ICU. Beth lies still, tangled in wires and tubes. Like a body caught between worlds.
"Elisabeth always talked about you…" her mother breaks the silence.
"LL. The handsome boy. She loves you. A lot."
I'm speechless. Those words cut and heal at the same time. I decide to leave. But before, she hands me a yellowed letter.
"To be given to you on your one-year anniversary."
I leave without looking back. That will mark me forever.
I get to my apartment. Fourth floor. The crow Look waits on the window. My only friend.
I step inside, and before I can react… BAM!
A blow to the head.
I stagger.
"W-what…?"
The pain explodes, the world goes black.
I didn't see the bastard's face!
I fall.
Unconscious.