Miss, stop committing suicide

Chapter 35: Can’t Take It Anymore

“Is this enough for you?”

“Yeah, this is enough.”

When I answered like it was no big deal, Evan stared at me like I was someone completely different.

His face twisted in confusion, like he couldn’t understand what had happened to me.

“You… You’re not like this.”

Of course, he’d say that.

After peeling away, shedding parts of myself, and finally being discarded, of course, I don’t look like that girl anymore.

But change wasn’t a choice I could avoid.

No one can stay the same after they’ve been forced to sever their own head.

You could take anyone, teach them a little technique, fill them with anger, and they’d be able to chop off another person’s head like it was nothing.

But to do that to yourself?

That’s not something a sane person could do.

So, tell me, Evan.

What do you think of me now?

What kind of person am I to you?

Tell me.

“Then, what kind of person am I supposed to be?”

I got no answer.

So, I pressed him harder.

“Tell me. What kind of person did you think I was?”

Evan’s hands began to tremble.

“Was I just some pitiful little puppy squirming beneath that count’s daughter without you to save me?”

“You think I’m here because I want to be?! You think I don’t know what people have been saying about you lately?! You think I came all this way for no reason?!”

He shouted with his face flushed red, his voice echoing down the hallway.

There weren’t many people around, but still, raising your voice in a place like this is bound to draw attention.

He strode toward the locker and grabbed the leash tied to it, yanking it hard.

When it didn’t come free, he lit a small flame at the tip of his finger and set the rope on fire.

The problem was, the flame followed the rope straight up to my collar.

“Ow. Evan, that hurts.”

As soon as I spoke, Evan quickly cast a healing spell on me.

He didn’t focus the magic on a single spot.

Instead, he spread it across my entire body.

I could feel the sting of the wounds on my arms fading, but they didn’t fully close.

Spreading magic like that doesn’t heal anything completely. It just numbs it a little.

“…If you’d just told me, I would’ve buried that girl for you.

Even if it took some time, I would’ve done it.

So why didn’t you say anything?

What was the point of begging me to save you back then?

Isn’t this what you wanted?”

No.

It wasn’t.

It wasn’t even me who said that.

I only said, “Save me.”

That was all.

But the girl who said those words…

She’s already gone.

Piece by piece, she’s falling away.

She’s probably dissolved into the bloodstains that flowed down the drain, washed away into the sewer far from here.

I always make sure to wash it clean after all.

“Evan, that stuff doesn’t matter.

If you know me well enough to say I’m not this kind of person, then shouldn’t you already know who I am?”

“Yeah, I do know.

You’re the one who always said it.

That people should live by common sense, etiquette, and principles of dignity.

You said if someone can’t even do that much, they don’t deserve to be called human.”

He stopped himself.

He didn’t have the courage to finish the sentence.

He was supposed to say, “So does that mean you’re not human anymore?”

But he didn’t.

Don’t worry, Evan. I already know the answer.

No one would look at me now and call me “human.”

Not when I’ve thrown away my free will, abandoned my pride, and chosen to live in submission to avoid pain.

A person like that isn’t human.

But to me, living like this is the only thing that counts as “living.”

“Common sense? What common sense?

Not dying even when I should is already outside the bounds of common sense.

So, what do you even want from me?

Not that you’d understand.

After all, everything just resets for you.”

Ah, I said something he wouldn’t get, didn’t I?

Well, it doesn’t matter.

Evan clearly has no intention of leaving me alone.

If he’d just give up and walk away, I’d be relieved.

But of course, he asks,

“What are you even talking about?”

“It’s just nonsense.

Empty words that’ll disappear one day, like feathers blown away by the wind.

Meaningless, powerless nonsense that anyone could silence.”

He doesn’t understand, but that’s fine.

He never could.

I tugged at the dog-ear headband on my head, pulled it off, and tossed it aside.

The sensation of feeling something was unbearable.

Because if I felt something too strongly, I’d start thinking about it.

If I started thinking, I’d start searching for my “true self.”

And that only ever leads to pain.

So I ripped off the mittens too, tossing them away like the headband.

“You know what hurts more than Lydia burning my lips with a match?

More than being forced to eat trash?

More than being shoved into a pitch-black locker for hours?

It’s you looking at me with those pitiful eyes.”

Evan flinched.

“Then why?

Why did you give me that ring?

That day, when I came looking for you, I was angry.

But you were the one who looked more miserable than me.

Why was that?”

Right.

That day, I slapped Vivian.

I came back earlier than usual that day.

But my head hadn’t been cut cleanly, so I had to face the pain of a second swing.

Do you know what that feels like, Evan?

No, you don’t.

Even those cursed executioners could do a cleaner job than that.

Father always said chopping wood and picking fruit didn’t require two hands.

You could do it with one if you had skill.

The ring?

Oh, I stopped wearing that a long time ago.

I remember being moved when you gave it to me.

“A ring just for me,” I’d thought.

“Did I look miserable to you?

Pitiful, even?

Did I seem so pathetic that you felt the need to worry about me?

Is that why you almost brought up my family just now but held back?

How chivalrous of you.”

Evan’s whole body trembled with anger, like he was going to snap.

He grabbed his glasses, took a deep breath, and calmed himself before speaking.

“Why is it that you can’t get angry at the people who hurt you, but you’re always ready to lash out at the ones trying to help?”

“Who said I can’t get angry at them?

I get angry all the time.”

“Then why don’t you do something about it?!”

“Because, Evan…”

I raised my head slowly and looked him in the eyes.

“Compared to you…

Lydia is far easier to deal with.”

Can’t Do This Anymore

“Is this enough for you?”

“Yeah, this is enough.”

When I said it like it was nothing, Evan looked at me as if I were a complete stranger.

He looked confused, like he didn’t understand what had happened to me.

“You… You’re not like this.”

Of course, he’d say that.

After shedding parts of myself, discarding them piece by piece, of course, I wouldn’t look like that girl anymore.

But it’s not like I had a choice.

Nobody stays the same after they’ve had to behead themselves.

Anyone could be taught to swing a blade at another person if you gave them a bit of technique and a reason for anger.

But to do it to yourself?

That’s not something a sane person can do.

So, tell me, Evan.

What do you think of me now?

What kind of person am I to you?

Tell me.

“You’re not normal anymore. No matter how I look at it, you’re not.”

I cut him off before he could finish.

“Of course I’m not.

But, you know, isn’t that a little convenient for you?”

“…What do you mean by that?”

“Come on, you’re supposed to end up with Vivian, right?

If I, the annoying obstacle, self-destruct all on my own, that just makes everything easier for you, doesn’t it?”

I said it in a mocking, theatrical voice, like a jester putting on a show for a crowd.

I clapped my hands together, laughing with exaggerated glee.

It felt oddly natural.

I didn’t know I could make an expression like that so easily.

“Out of the goodness of your heart, you’ll help me for the sake of our old friendship, right?

But if I had even a scrap of decency, I’d never dare approach you again, would I?

Because I was always the one preaching about manners, etiquette, dignity, and principles, wasn’t I?

Haha! What a joke!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it—”

Evan tried to stay calm, his tone rational and composed.

So, I ripped into him.

“Then what is it, huh?!

You want to feel good about yourself, so you can pat yourself on the back for being the ‘nice guy’?

What’s wrong, Evan? Feeling insecure now that you’re not the only one chasing after Vivian?

Poor little you, watching your self-esteem crumble. Look at you now, wagging your little tail like a whipped dog.”

But he didn’t argue back this time.

He didn’t shout at me like he had before.

He just… glanced at me with an exhausted look.

His red, slightly swollen eyes gazed at the ceiling for a moment before his big hand ran down his face.

“…Yeah.”

He looked back at me with tired, defeated eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“If it hurts to be looked at like this, Erica, then maybe you should think about why it hurts.

When a guard looks at you on the street, you don’t feel anything.

But if you’ve committed a crime and you feel his gaze, suddenly you shrink away without even realizing it.”

“I’m not guilty of anything.

The world around me is what’s broken, not me.

At first, I thought I was the problem.

But it’s not. It’s everything else around me that’s wrong.”

“Is it really?

Not even a single thing about you is wrong?

You push away anyone who tries to help.

You reject anyone who comes near you.

And you think you’re perfectly fine?”

“Then tell me.

What do you want me to do, huh?

You think I haven’t tried?!

Who came looking for me when I needed it?

It wasn’t you, Evan. It was Vivian.

She’s the only one who ever came for me.

So don’t you dare stand there and act like you understand me.”

I hadn’t planned on crying.

But for some reason, tears started to well up.

Lately, it felt like I was crying a lot more than usual.

And that’s funny, right?

I threw away my pride, gave up on my dignity, and abandoned everything that made me me.

I crawled on the ground like a dog, all so I could live.

But now, you’re telling me I’m not even Erica anymore.

If I’m not Erica, then what am I supposed to be?

What else is left?

So, what do you want me to do, Evan?

Just die?

That’s what it sounds like.

You’re saying, “If you’re not Erica anymore, then just die.”

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

I clenched my fists to stop my hands from shaking.

“Erica? Evan?”

A familiar voice called our names.

Vivian.

Her head peeked into the classroom, her wide, curious eyes peering at us.

And just like that — snap.

I heard it.

A single, taut thread in my mind snapped.

I rubbed my temples.

“Aah… I can’t do this anymore.”