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Chapter 4 - Retelling Her Two Miserable Lifetimes I

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can accept your love confession."

For the fourth time, she got turned down.

It took that many heartbreaks for her to develop a kind of fear – one that taught her not to keep her hopes up too much when it came to love. Since then, she told herself not to be greedy for any sort of attention, especially the type that would try to satisfy her insatiable desire.

Insatiable.

Not because it was never contented, but simply because no one was willing enough to pay that kind of attention to her in the first place. No one was up for the idea of satisfying her desire to experience how it would feel like to have her affections reciprocated. Then again, she has always been a mere 'nobody' to most people.

She starved for love. Everyone could see that. Yet no one cared.

"You're ugly and boring. You're awkward to talk with. Don't even bother hoping you'd get liked back," was what her first crush told her back then.

"You can't even form a sentence without stuttering. How can you confess to me, then?" sneered the second one.

"What? You got social anxiety? Is that a disease or something? What a weirdo," scoffed the one before the last.

Alone and unwanted.

As if being orphaned at a very young age was not enough, she also grew to be a complete outcast. Every effort she tried to make when it came to love would always end up futile. It's an anguishing cycle that just kept on repeating.

With all that, she failed to gain any experience in romance up until she became a college student.

"I'd been turned down again, huh…?" she thought out loud as she trudged her way back to her apartment.

"I might as well turn numb at this point."

After she reached the legal age, she left the orphanage, lived on her own, and worked part-time for her studies. Her guardians had to let her go since they could no longer continue sustaining her daily needs, considering that they had to prioritize the younger orphans.

Apparently, no one had tried to adopt her even after eighteen long years of staying there.

No one showed interest. If some did try to, they did not push through.

Then again, she was difficult to talk to because of her social anxiety, though it was only mild. Since she's not that sociable, she would often appreciate people from a distance. Her crushes and infatuations would develop by watching her targets of admiration from afar.

It's not much of a stalkerish behavior, though. She knows her limits. It's just that she's really having a hard time in expressing herself. That's why she's the one who avoids people first so that she can save herself from the embarrassment of appearing like a creep.

"It's alright, though! Everything's gonna be fine! I'll learn to socialize soon enough…" she tried to cheer herself up by thinking optimistically.

"I'm already in college, anyway. I have to spend more time with other people. I'm a big girl now, and I'll be an independent woman in four years."

However, at that time, what she didn't know was that she would never get to live for another four years again – nor any more than that.

When she entered her supposedly empty apartment, her solitary and loveless life suddenly flashed through her mind for some reason. At first, she thought that she was just getting too caught up in her gloomy mood again – that she was just brooding too much.

But she was proven wrong when she heard the sound of footsteps from ahead of her.

Now, she may have been wishing for a companion in this forlorn home for a long time. She always wanted to have someone to welcome her whenever she returned. However, this is definitely not how she desires things to turn out.

She never thought that she would ever get a companion in the form of a shady-looking figure who emerged from another room.

"Who are you?!" she shrieked in horror and trepidation.

But it's much too late for any introduction or greetings. The unfamiliar presence in her home turns out to be a person of malice. Then again, the air of malevolence that has spread all around the place is already an indispensable indicator.

A robber had just broken inside her apartment.

Right then, she finally realized why her life flashed before her eyes earlier.

At long last, someone had welcomed her home. Though it was not what she pictured, it still did happen. Another person aside from her was inside her apartment.

She got to say, though – it was one horrendous and bloodcurdling welcome.

It all happened in a blink of an eye. She didn't even have enough time to react, much less call for help. The robber already rushed towards her with the speed of lightning, a knife in hand.

And before Seraphine knew it, its sharp, glinting blade has already been lunged in her direction.