Because We're Friends ~Prologue
"S-Stay away, monster!" The man—Viola's father, pointed the hunting rifle at the slumped, bleeding body in front of us. She was a girl with a ruined dress, her long, purple hair was streaked with blood, her eyelids were slack where her eyes should have been, the hallow of it was dripping out with blood; the girl's legs have been chopped off and when she crawled; blood, gut and ichors were being trailed just behind her as she crawled on the dirt.
"Fh...fha...aa...th..." she tried to talk—but it was useless. Her throat was burnt by the 'medicine' I had given her. "Dh..." she desperately tried again—each sound coming out of her mouth caused pain. "Dha...agh...d...dhy..." She looked so helpless, so hopeless; trying to reach for her father—to convince this man that she was the girl who took care of her since birth, who loved and cared for her and protected her from danger's deadly claws. Oh, what was that? You want your daddy?
He's my father now.
"Stay away!" He yelled again, took a step toward her, readied the rifle and—
He shot her. The roar of the gunshot echoed through the ominous atmosphere of the forest, sending birds fluttering away. He had shot my old, dying body—only difference is; my soul isn't in it.
But Viola's was.
Her head dropped to the ground, there was a huge splotch of dark red color—blood—on her hair, that was leaking with scarlet red liquid. But she was still moving, unwilling to give in; her arms twitching and forcing them not to collapse. I guess she would have yelled in pain, but because of the soreness of her throat, she didn't.
Viola's father shot her again.
And this time, her entire body gave in as it fell to the ground; lifeless and dead. Blood was pooling around her; staining the grass and dirt.
Viola's—I mean, my father took a step back, he kept his gaze steady on the corpse, as though to make sure it was dead. When she still wasn't moving, father turned his back from the corpse and led me the way out of the forest, me walking beside him.
But I looked back at the dead body. Oh, Viola, it feels as though it was just yesterday we traded bodies. You felt so sorry for me, I wonder if you still feel sorry for me now.
Oh, no matter. You're gone anyways. And, as promised, I will share the love.
I continued walking ahead—with my new body; which was painless and felt good—unable to hide the smallest of smiles on my face.
My life will be different from now on. I will experience less pain and, for once, I will be loved.