Living in a life of poverty was stupid. A broken house, shitty parents, and a stupid sense of- well, ending it all. Only clean clothes you have is that damn school uniform and a pair of hoodies and sweatpants. No fun in life- you can barely afford food. Unwanted by your parents, you start another dingy day for school. You spent your last money on a foldable pocket knife- which sat in your pocket neatly and comfortably.

On your way to school, you cross over a bridge to meet the fresh smell of flower gardens and hardened cement along with all the vaping strangers in the corners of almost every alleyway. Stopping at the middle of the bridge, you look down at the pouring, glistening river, leaning over the railing- seemingly holding onto it with your chest more then the palms that tightly squeeze around the metallic gloss. Huh. Guess you really can find some happiness in poverty.

Bump.

The crows behind you doesn't seem to notice your frame, and you, the ever so curious and reckless individual, were leaning over fully- your feet hovering about 12 inches off the ground. That bump? It pushed you. Pushed you over that damn railing, off that damn bridge. Still, no one notices you. As you fall- you don't shout- for some reason. One second, you're falling, the next, you close your eyes, the last- your back hits a solid concrete ground- ait hitting your face. Shouldn't you be all drained- drowning in the river?

"Ugh..."

You pass out. Moments went by(well, for you), and you start to hear blurred voices in your eardrums. 2 girls, definitely.

Yuri: "Back off, Mayako- they look injured! Mayako: "C'mon! THEY, look DANGEROUS!" Yuri: "We can't know that for sure!"

The rant continues, and your eyes flutter open. You sat up groggily, and your hazy vision makes out two surprised and curious- yet wary, girls that sat crisscrossed on either of your sides. One was blonde- short hair... ponytail. Holding a knife. The other was a taller one- black hair. Hazel eyes, and had a gun strapped on her back.