"My mom died. My dad died. My brother died. My aunts, uncles, and cousins all died. So why am I still here? Why am I still in this forsaken world? Why can't I just cease my suffering?" I thought.

But it wasn't always like this.

I loved my life. I loved living. I found joy in so many things, and for a while, everything felt perfect. My parents were well-off, so I never had to worry about anything. More importantly, they were the kindest people in the world.

Even after my mom found out she could never have another child, she refused to let that stop her dream of having a big family. Instead, she adopted a little boy who soon became my younger brother.

Life was good. In fact, it was almost too good to be true. And somehow, I managed to ruin it all.

One afternoon, my mom and I went grocery shopping. While she was distracted, I wandered outside by myself. That's when I saw a strange man.

He had two different-colored eyes, one blue and the other green.

"Hey, little girl," he called. "Come here."

Being the foolish child I was, I walked toward him. He was just about to hand me something when my mom suddenly appeared. The moment she saw him, all the color drained from her face.

She quickly apologized to the man, grabbed my hand tightly, and hurried me back to the car. She didn't say a word during the drive home. Her grip on the steering wheel was so tight that her knuckles turned white.

Finally, she broke the silence.

She scolded me for wandering off on my own, but before she could finish, we noticed a black car following us. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence, but every turn we took, the car followed.

Mom's breathing became heavier as she drove faster, desperately trying to lose it. After several turns, the car finally disappeared.

Without wasting another second, we rushed inside the house and locked every door and window. I kept waiting for my mom to call the police, but she never did. Instead, she locked every lock twice before forcing herself to calm down.

A little while later, she smiled at me as if nothing had happened and started making dinner.

Spaghetti and meatballs.

For a brief moment, everything felt normal again. I went upstairs to my room and changed into my favorite Barbie dress, completely unaware that it would be the last normal moment of my life.

Then the lights went out.

At first, I thought it was just a power outage. I was wrong.

A scream shattered the silence. Then another. My little brother was crying. My mom was begging for her life, and my dad was shouting. I froze. My heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest. I wanted to run downstairs, but my legs refused to move.

Then everything went silent.

It was the kind of silence that made your ears ring. A few seconds later, I heard footsteps outside my bedroom.

Right. Left. Right. Left.

Each step grew louder as whoever it was walked closer to my door. Then the footsteps stopped.

Before I could even breathe, a knife suddenly pierced through my bedroom door. I stumbled backward in terror as the blade came through again and again. The wood splintered with every strike until the door finally gave way.

The footsteps returned.

Right. Left. Right. Left.

Whoever it was slowly walked into my room.

Panicking, I threw myself into my closet and covered my mouth with both hands, trying to silence my breathing. The footsteps stopped directly in front of the closet.

Everything went still.

Then the knife stabbed through the closet door.

I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming. The blade narrowly missed me. Again. Again. Again. Each stab came closer than the last, leaving shallow cuts across my arms and legs. None of them were deep enough to kill me, but every one of them burned with pain.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

The room fell silent once again. A few moments later, I heard the footsteps walking away, followed by my bedroom door creaking shut.

I stayed inside the closet, too terrified to move. One minute passed. Then ten. Then an hour. I wasn't sure how much time had gone by, but I didn't dare step outside.

Eventually, after what felt like forever, I slowly pushed the closet door open. The house was eerily quiet. I let out a shaky breath before remembering my family.

I ran downstairs as fast as I could.

The moment I reached the kitchen, my entire world fell apart.

The sight before me was beyond anything words could describe. My knees gave out beneath me as a wave of anger, grief, fear, and disbelief crashed over me all at once. I couldn't breathe. The room began to spin, the walls seemed to close in around me, and my vision slowly blurred until everything went black.

I soon woke up to bright lights shining above me. My eyes slowly adjusted, and I realized I was surrounded by doctors. I quickly sat up, but the sudden movement made me dizzy, and I fell back onto the bed.

"Where are my parents?" I asked.

No one answered.

I looked around at their worried faces, confused by their silence.

"Where is my brother?" I asked again.

Still, no one said anything.

After running several tests, the doctors finally decided it was time to tell me the truth.

My parents were dead.

They had been murdered by a serial killer named Xumi.

Apparently, Xumi was a dangerous killer who had been taking innocent lives for years, but he had never been caught.

I didn't scream.

I didn't cry.

I just sat there, staring into nothing, wondering one thing.

What was the point of life now?

After I recovered, I was taken to live with my relatives. For a few weeks, everything seemed okay. I started to believe that maybe, somehow, my life could become normal again.

But then they died.

The police identified their cause of death as strangulation, but they couldn't find out who was responsible or how it happened.

After that, I was sent to stay with another relative.

For a while, things were peaceful.

Then they died too.

And then another family took me in.

They died as well.

At that point, the police started to suspect me. They wondered if I was somehow responsible for their deaths, but they had no evidence. I was only ten years old, and there was nothing they could prove.

After the first few incidents, no other relatives wanted to take me in. They were afraid that they would become the next victims.

Soon, people started calling me Mara.

They believed that wherever I went, darkness followed.

The government eventually decided that the safest option was to send me to an orphanage.

And that was how I ended up here.

I've tried to end my life many times. About ten times, to be exact. Each time, I was either saved or somehow survived. People called it luck, but I didn't see it that way.

It wasn't that I wanted to continue living. I wanted to pay for all my sins by going to hell, and I believed the only way to do that was by no longer being alive. But that night was different.

That night was supposed to be the end.

I was locked in a room with no sharp objects or anything that could help me hurt myself. The orphanage had done everything they could to keep me safe, but I had already made up my mind.

It was a cold, windy night. I woke up exactly at 2 a.m., knowing that was when the nuns would be asleep. I quietly left a note behind, thanking them for everything they had done and for trying so hard to keep me alive.

Then I walked up to the roof.

The wind rushed against me as I stood there, looking into the darkness. I stood on the edge, ready to let everything end.

Then I saw someone.

She was tall, with brown hair and mascara smudged across her face, as if she had been crying for hours. She looked up at me and immediately shouted, "Hey, little girl! Come down from there, or you're going to die!"

I ignored her and moved one leg forward.

Her expression changed instantly. She looked horrified.

"Come down now! You're going to die, and I don't want you to die. Please stop this. You don't understand how valuable your life is, so stop being selfish and come down!"

I looked down and thought, Wow, she's really going to be the last person I talk to on this earth.

I sighed.

"My life already ended a long time ago," I said. "So don't try to call me selfish when you know nothing about me."

She stared at me.

"Do you have a family? Where's your mom or dad? You don't know how hard life is. You're probably just a sheltered kid who knows nothing about the world. You selfish,bratty coward."

For some reason, those words hit a deep part of me.

"Selfish brat? How dare you call me that?" I shouted. "You have no idea what I've been through. Do you know how painful it was when my family was killed? Do you know what it feels like to be alone and then everyone abandons you? And you're telling me I'm selfish and a coward ?"

Her expression softened, and she looked guilty.

"I'm sorry for judging you," she said. "I'm going through a difficult time too. I just found out my sister has cancer. But I still mean what I said. You're a coward."

She took a deep breath before continuing.

"Do you really think your parents would be happy if you died? They wouldn't. They loved you. Your life meant everything to them, and giving up now would mean everything they did for you was wasted."

She looked at me seriously.

"Tell me something. How did your parents die?"

"They were killed," I replied. "By a serial killer who still hasn't been caught."

A small smile appeared on her face.

"Then boom. Now you have a purpose in life."

I looked at her, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"They haven't been caught, right? So why don't you find the killer yourself?"

"But what if I lose?"

"It doesn't matter," she said. "At the end of the day, you have nothing to lose. Not even your life."

For the first time in a long time, I felt something I thought I had lost forever.

Hope.

Most people told me to give up and live a peaceful life, but she said something different. She gave me a reason to keep going. Suddenly, I was determined to find the person who destroyed my family.

The wind grew stronger as I tried to step away from the edge. But before I could fully move, a powerful gust pushed me forward.

I fell.

But she reacted quickly.

She caught me and broke my fall.

She looked at me with a small smirk.

"Hi, my name is Chloe. What's yours?"

I looked at her.

"Uriah."

And somehow, I had a feeling this day was going to be the beginning of something unforgettable.

A new beginning.

At first, I thought the saying, “Everything happens for a reason,” was one of the stupidest quotes ever. What reason could there possibly be for my parents getting murdered? What reason could there be for me to lose everything? What reason could there be for a serial killer to still be walking free while innocent people were buried underground? None. That was why I hated that quote. But then I met Chloe.

Chloe is the weirdest person I’ve ever met. She smiles even when she’s going through the worst moments of her life. She believes in karma, so she’s always helping everyone, even though she’s the one who needs help the most. If she hadn’t been there that day, I probably would’ve killed myself, and that would’ve been the end of my story. But she saved me. So maybe… maybe everything really does happen for a reason.

Chloe took me to her house. It was tiny. Really tiny. I honestly had no idea how someone could live there. “Why is your house so small?” I asked. She shrugged. “It’s a trend.” I stared at her, trying to figure out if she was joking.

She asked if I’d eaten. I shook my head. For a while now, I’d been starving myself as punishment. I blamed myself for my parents’ deaths. If I’d been stronger… maybe they’d still be alive. Without saying another word, Chloe placed a plate of food in front of me. “Eat,” she said. I ate every bite.

When we finished, she looked at me. “So… what happened?” I took a deep breath before telling her everything. I told her about my parents, about Xumi, and about Charlie Winston, the only police officer who believed me. “He promised he’d help me catch Xumi,” I said quietly. Chloe’s smile faded. “I’m sorry.” She hadn’t done anything wrong, so why was she apologising? She hugged me tightly and I felt really uncomfortable so I gently pulled away from her.“You said you’d help me,” I replied. “So come up with an idea.”

A grin spread across her face. “We’re going to the police station.” I blinked. “…What?” “We’re going to steal the files from your parents’ murder case.” “How are we supposed to do that?” “I’ve done it a few times before.” “You’ve stolen from a police station before?” “Not files,” she laughed. “Just… other things.” For some reason, I believed her.

The next morning, we headed to the police station. As soon as we arrived, something felt wrong. Officers were rushing in and out of the building while people stood outside whispering. Chloe stopped one of the officers. “Excuse me, what’s going on?” He let out a tired sigh. “One of our officers was murdered early this morning.” My heart dropped. “Who?” Chloe asked. “Charlie Winston.”

Everything around me went silent. Charlie. The one person who believed me. The one person who promised he’d help me find the truth. He was gone. “I… I can’t believe it,” I whispered. “Charlie… Charlie Winston is dead.” My chest tightened. “Now I really have no one by my side.” My fists clenched as anger replaced the shock. “How dare Xumi do this?”

Chloe looked at me with a disappointed expression before lightly hitting my back. “Hey.” I looked at her. “Did you forget you have me?” I stayed quiet. She smiled softly and held out her pinky. “We’re going to do this together. And I promise… no matter what happens, I’ll never abandon you.” I stared at her hand for a moment. A pinky promise? It sounded childish, but somehow, coming from Chloe, it felt serious. Slowly, I wrapped my pinky around hers. “…Okay.” She smiled. “Good. Now let’s go steal some files.” I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “You’re actually insane.” “And yet you’re still following me,” she replied.

Using the confusion surrounding Charlie’s death, we slipped unnoticed into the records room. Shelf after shelf was packed with old case files. We searched for what felt like forever until we finally found my parents’ case. Across the front were two words. COLD CASE. My fists tightened. They had given up. As I searched through the documents, I realised something even worse. I wasn’t the only victim. Five other children around my age had lost their families to Xumi. He wasn’t just a murderer. He was a serial killer.

We quietly left the station before anyone noticed us. I couldn’t hide my disappointment. Then Chloe suddenly smiled. “I’ve got an idea.” She held up the other case files. “These people lost their families because of Xumi too. We should find them.” “And do what?” I asked. “Ask them to help us catch him.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.”

Maybe it was because we were complete strangers. Maybe it was because normal people don’t agree to hunt down serial killers with two random teenagers. But Chloe didn’t care. She smiled like she already knew it would work. “We can’t give up,” she said. “The answers we’re looking for are out there somewhere.” I sighed. “Fine.” Once again, Chloe had somehow convinced me to do something completely ridiculous. But as much as I hated admitting it… today had actually been fun. Well… apart from Charlie dying.