The Protagonist's Survival Manual

Chapter 01

Have you ever wanted to escape and start anew?

Have you ever had the urge to abandon the life you have right now and transfer to a life where it is the complete opposite of the reality you're in at the moment, where sorrows and heartbreaks are almost unbearable?

All your hopes are gone, like how a fire in a candle would turn into smoke when it is put out by the sudden gush of the wind.

It's just plain darkness. It's suffocating. It's monochromatic.

Where you'll wake up every morning because of the rapid palpitations of the heart, feeling like your chest might burst.

Your stomach is churning in different directions. Your mind is in chaos, going haywire, and that makes you unable to think rationally.

Your body tingles and your hands will be shaking. Being restless as you can't sleep every night as your problems will always haunt you, even in your dreams.

And your eyes, which are always pooled with tears, might suddenly cascade down your cheeks with acne scars and dead skin cells, but you're painfully trying your best to stop it.

It was a whirlwind of events.

Sorrowful.

Every morning was like that for me.

I'll burst into tears whenever I'm woken up because of severe panic attacks.

I cover my mouth with my fists to contain my sobs, as I can't afford to let anyone know that I'm in pain.

I curled up with my blanket in a fetal position in my bed to stop the tingling sensations from my toes to my fingers and to stop myself from vomiting all the food I had last night because of an upset stomach.

They say butterflies in your stomach are nice, but hell no. I felt like I wanted to die.

It felt like being stuck in a dark abyss with no way out, and being pulled deeper and deeper into a thick black mud that you'll struggle to breath in.

Your desperate cries won't be heard, even if your voice box breaks with your whines and screams.

With depression and anxiety, there's no way out.

But people always say that in order to escape, you need to talk it out.

Release all the negative emotions, tell everyone that you're in pain, that you're desperate to heal yourself to stop this agony.

But they all replied that it was just my imagination. That it's all in my head, and that I am just over reacting to things that are impossible to happen.

They say I'm privileged to live the life I have right now and that I shouldn't ask for more.

They say I am luckier than all those other kids my age, and I don't have the right to feel these emotions.

Thus, opening up to others doesn't heal you. It's comparable to salt in a wound.

Honestly, it doesn't help but destroy.

For a seventeen-year-old teen living a life of sorrow, people would say I don't have the right to be sad.

They say that I have it all, and just be thankful, but that's not it.

They just can't understand.

I am Ash, short for Ashmere.

A very complex name for a complex girl in eleventh grade, where everyone who knows her would say that she's got it all.

I lived my life being praised for being smart and for having a straight 9 on my performance card in school. Being praised for being responsible, polite, and kind. Being praised for being the best daughter that any parent would like to have.

They say I'm a role model for many.

They say I'm always bubbly and the type of person who won't get drowned in sadness as I have my supportive parents beside me who would jump a thousand feet high just to secure my happiness.

But just like those pork steamed buns sold cheap in alleyways, the fillings will always be outnumbered by the flour.

Don't get tricked by its outer appearance, as it'll be surprising what you'll see on the inside.

It was tiring. My face muscles would cramp from smiling all day, like nothing was wrong. I am searching for corny jokes on the internet to throw at people to show them that I am alright.

Wearing the facade I made to mask all the real emotions that are bottled up inside.

I didn't know when it started, but I just woke up one day, realizing that I was a wreck. Unhappy and living in discontent.

Maybe it happened back when I opened my eyes and saw how scary the world is, or maybe it happened when my parents would always discuss our financial problems at any possible time. That made me change my point of view in life where I came to the point thinking that money is the key to being happy.

It was dumb, indeed.

I started thriving to earn money, but it always ends up with nothing. I always failed.

They say studying harder is the best way to get a degree and be qualified to work for high-paid jobs, but do I really need to wait that long?

I'm impatient, but even though I'm trying my best, I'm always ranked second.

I thought I was doing well considering that I always came on top of the class and earned lots of rewards, but I always came in second.

What did I even lack?

It is hard to accept it as I live with the fact that no one is better than me due to all the compliments I've gotten that resulted in me becoming a person with a superiority complex.

And suddenly, seeing teenagers younger than me who are much better at what they do and, more importantly, earning money from what they do, makes me envious and upset.

It was unpleasant. I became envious and the superiority complex that I had started kicking in, pressuring me to do much better than they did.

But I can't. I just can't.

It was horrifying. Scared that I'd fall out of my league, I started to overthink things that led me to panic attacks at unexpected times.

The same old tingling sensation from my toes to my fingers started all over again, together with my mind in errors and glitches, and I was unable to do what I had to do.

All I ever think, as of the moment, is that I'm a worthless bug. My parents had grown tired of me as I was unable to help them when they needed financial assistance.

Unlike those kids who can already help their parents and plan their future as they already had the money to spare, I felt so little that my ego couldn't take it.

Suddenly, I would burst into tears, not knowing what to do.

All I could do was to study hard, and what? I was always placed in second and never ranked first. It feels like my efforts are always a waste.

I feel so lost, like a canoe in the middle of a wide ocean, unable to do anything but paddle to reach a shore where everything is uncertain.

All I ever thought was that I had lost the game.

It's quite exaggerated, but that's all I can think of at the moment.

They say you can't just diagnose depression, but it isn't depression that I am suffering from. It is unexplainable, but it is more than that.

After drying the tears off my face, I started to work on my schoolwork that has made me suffer for about a week already.

All that I was thankful for is that I believe in heaven and hell. I believe that suicide is a sin that is punishable by hell and that prevents me from having suicidal thoughts that have fortunately saved my life a lot of times already.

If I was an i***t, I could already imagine my parents' sorrowful wails in front of my, uh, cold and lifeless body.

But my worries are too deep. I feel like the thin string of sanity would break if I didn't let this all out.

As they are my parents, I deluded myself into thinking that these guys would be emphatic towards me and would give me words of wisdom to carry on.

But it wasn't the case.

I was stressed and pressured about maintaining my grades and the pressure as the oldest daughter in the household to support them in whatever I could do. It dragged me to a corner and all I ever wanted was a person or two to lean on.

I trusted their words that whenever I felt bad or had a bad day, I should go to them and express all of my pent-up emotions that I couldn't handle anymore.

But I think it's all a lie.

"Have you heard? Their daughter ranked first in her school. "

A series of utensils were clinking on the glass plates. The sound was heard around the dining room on a rainy day on February twenty-third.

"Oh, that's nice. I heard that the school is prestigious. Am I right?" Papa looked at me as I was chewing down my breakfast.

I gulped it down too fast as I wiped my face with a table napkin before answering him. "Yes, It is a prestigious and well-known school for talented individuals, so yeah," I replied, and looked down at my plate again.

My heart raced as I heard my mother sighed, knowing where this conversation was going.

All I ever wanted at that moment was to leave.

"That's great. Her parents must be so proud."

"That's right. I hope you can do that too, Ash. I think it's not too hard though, so why can't you do it? "

I heaved a deep breath, staring at the pile of rice on my plate, waiting for it to magically disappear so I could leave my seat and return to my room.

"It's... It's too complicated, Ma. And you know, I just can't," I said while my hands started shaking under the table.

"You can't say that without trying," she replied, with a grim expression on her face.

It's always been like this, though, and I just can't get used to it.

"But you know, I've tried my best."

"Ah, such nonsense. Your uncle's daughter is younger than you. Why could she do it and you can't? "

The thing that I really hate about myself is that I am too emotional. My eyes would suddenly release tears in moments that I didn't want to cry and at times I'd like to appear strong.

It was annoying. I didn't like to cry in front of people, but with the problems bottling up from academics to personal affairs, my eyes gave up.

"Hey! Why would you cry? We were just talking, and now you're crying? What are you crying for? "

I closed my eyes when my mother's voice suddenly rose. I felt so vulnerable, hiding my shaking hands as panic attacks started to kick in. It was the worst time to come out.

I looked at my father, but he was also looking at me grimly. I sobbed.

My tears kept falling down my face until they even reached my lap and wet the table napkin placed on it.

Ah, this was stupid. I wish these eyes would stop producing tears.

"Huh?! What are you crying for?"

"Ma! Please stop pressuring me! " I raised my voice, which made them look at me unbelievably.

I know I made a mistake.

In an Asian household, once you raise your voice at your parents, you should pack your clothes up in an instant and find a place to live.

But what's done is done. I can't do anything about it and proceeded to open up to them, hoping that they'd understand me.

"Ma, Pa, I feel so pressured," I said, and that made my father slam his utensils on his plate.

"Why do you even feel so pressured when you've got everything you need? We have provided you with enough! It's not like you're a working student! How dare you say you're pressured? You're even living comfortably, unlike any other child your age! " My mother yelled.

It's true that I've lived comfortably. I'm luckier than all those other kids my age. Yes, that's true.

But all I ever wanted was for them to listen to me just once. I always wanted to tell them my worries, but I couldn't.

"Please hear me out," I whispered.

"Shut up! You're just overreacting! "

I pursed my lips, unable to say anything more.

It was always like this. No one ever hears my pleas. No one ever cares about what I feel.

They're so insensitive, to be honest.

They're taking me lightly—no, actually, they're taking all of my feelings lightly, not knowing that this could lead to something severe.

I was slowly coming out of my shell, but it's utterly useless when they're like this, and it made me realize that I'll never do this again.

Even if I'm living comfortably, I still have the right to be sad. Even if I'm sheltered enough, I could still feel pain.

No one in this household could understand that. No one has the ears to listen to me.

Even if I'm surrounded by people, I still feel so alone.

I'm all alone.

Picking up the plate without even finishing the food, I placed it in the lavatory while my parents were still yelling at me. They're throwing sharp words that cut like a knife, injuring my heart.

I closed my bedroom door as soon as I reached my room, letting the tears flow and sobs go.

It was really painful. really, really painful.

All I wanted was some ears to listen to me. I have done all my best, but nothing ever works out.

I am pressured to do the same thing as those other kids can do because all I ever wanted was to help them with their financial problems and for them to be proud of me just once.

All I ever wanted was to be of help, and I don't need them to pay me back, but what I wanted was their comforting words, letting me know that I've done great and they always have my back.

All I ever wanted back was their support and understanding.

But instead of giving comfort, they just added fuel to the fire.

And because of this incident, I have chosen to never, ever open up my problems to anyone else ever again.

I spent hours crying behind my bedroom door until my eyes felt like a dry faucet and nothing came out, even though I forced myself to cry for more.

There's no particular reason though; I just wanted to cry until I got numb.

My face is swollen like a beehive was smacked at my face and was pierced by millions of needles on a bee's butt.

I stood up and locked my door before looking at myself in my vanity mirror. I was trying to look cute, but all I saw was a face that looked like it was punched by Pacquiao or Mayweather.

I rolled my eyes at my own idiocy and proceeded to lie on my bed and roll my body with my pink comforter with unicorn prints that smells like my little sister's pee. I spent half an hour just looking at the ceiling with a glow in the dark stars that are close to extinction as there are only six stars left from the fifty stars I had back then.

I just did nothing.

Doing nothing is my coping mechanism. Well, I am doing nothing but my brain is on the verge of shutting down because of overthinking, which I think is unhealthy and needs to be stopped.

I thought of lots of things, and a thought suddenly came to me that made me jump in my bed with eyes wide open.

What if I go out and get hit by a truck and I get isekaid to another world, which is in a book or a webtoon, and I live as the protagonist there to restart my life?

Or maybe the villainess who was meant to die but the male lead pathetically fell in love with me and lived happily ever after?

I snorted and lied back down. I am really going to go crazy if I continue reading those isekai historical fantasy romances, which I really love.

But now that I think about it, I don't have anything special within me. I can't even live without my smartphone, so how can I survive in a world where technology is absent? I must be insane.

So I tried to think of other things.

I thought that maybe if we were just financially stable, I could escape this kind of life and do whatever I wanted. Even if I'd drop my studies, would it even make a difference if we just got the money to survive? Then maybe I won't be studying my *ss off, that is really useless since someone will always take the first place.

My head hurts thinking about that, so I tried to think of anything else.

I thought that what if chickens had four legs instead of two? What if fish have legs? and other bullsh*t until I finally got bored and started scrolling on my phone.

I squinted my eyes when I pressed my thumb on the right side of my phone with a fingerprint sensor, and it emitted a bright light because of the brightness I set at max.

I cursed and lowered the brightness before pressing the wifi icon and messages and notifications popped up in an instant.

Now what should I do?

Social media is boring, and I am not in the mood to talk with my friends.

I turned on my reading application and started scrolling through my library to look for something to read when something caught my attention.

It is a webtoon that I still haven't read yet.

It was entitled "The Traitors' Hymn".

Reviews say that the story is oddly satisfying even though there are some parts where they'd like to drink muriatic acid and die because of frustration.

That is a weird way to describe how they feel, but oh well, people have different ranges of idiocy, and these people just ranged, max.

Without further ado, I clicked on the book cover, and suddenly it loaded. I wanted to curse the internet for the slow reception of signals, but I remembered that our internet would suddenly go nuts if mister clouds above us suddenly had a tantrum.

Curse the rain!

But what does internet reception have something to do with the rain?

After some time, it revealed the webtoon I was reading, and I silently started scrolling down.

I frowned when all those comments that looked like pure idiocy were somehow reframed. How can I say this?

All those comments that I thought were bluffs are somehow true.

I really wanted to slam my head against the wall when I realized that the story was in an advanced technology setting with monarchy as political rule, but they couldn't even catch an assassin with hundreds of knights with choppers, guns, and swords.

If they were in a world ruled by a monarchy, they should have hundreds of choppers, not only six!

I shook that thought off my head, but I was annoyed when the protagonist and the emperor started talking.

Oh come on! The emperor could have just shot the protagonist already. Why do they need to have a chitchat before killing each other off?

To be honest, I think it isn't necessary.

But I think it's plus points for the drama.

The scene is very dramatic and I get too hyped about what may happen. When I was reading, I could feel the mackerels and tuna in my stomach swimming in the acid in my gut.

But my mouth dropped open when I read the last part of the chapter. The lights suddenly went off and the air conditioner gave a puff as if it was saying, "Oh yeah, it was a hard day, but thanks for the break."

I was just sitting on the edge of the bed with the comforter covering my head and my eyes were wide open like the saucer in our kitchen.

Who...

Who just died?!

What kind of author would kill the protagonist in the first part of the story?!

But then I realized that maybe it was his or her writing style. Was it an overview of the middle or the last part of the story?

Maybe the girl would die and get isekaid? Or maybe she would survive and return for revenge.

Sheesh, what kind of trope did they use in this story?

I tap the back button to read the story description, but it just loads and says the infamous "Please connect to the internet" that destroyed lots of lives (? ), and is the reason for breakups and heartbreaks.

I groaned in annoyance since I skipped the description and read the prologue when I saw the story. All I wanted was to be surprised by how the story turned out, but now I'm dying to find out what it's all about!

I continued tapping the back button until I could feel my phone getting annoyed. If only they got emotions, then maybe my phone would have already electrocuted me. I was just happy it didn't.

I gave up and lied back down to look at the luminous stars on my ceiling once again, thinking of the story I'd just read.

How painful it is for the protagonist to be betrayed by her lover. And how much of an a*sh*le is the emperor.

If ever I get isekaid in this story, then I might as well give the emperor a power punch in the gut.

And if ever I'm as rich and lucky as the protagonist in the story is, I won't ever be looking for romance if that would be the result of my downfall.

If she had only not fallen in love with the emperor who made her follow him like a dog, then maybe she would still be alive.

But there's no point if I get angry at the story because it is just fictional.

But I wonder when the electricity will come back?

I looked outside of the small space at the window and saw that the rain was still pouring hard.

"If only they'd turned the generator on." I mumbled and hugged my bolster pillow, thinking that I could read the next part and the description if there were someone kind enough in our household to turn it on.

My eyes suddenly popped open when I realized I am the kindest person in this house!

But the laziest one, though, and looking at the door made me sigh. I would walk past the living room to go to the basement and turn the generator on, and my parents would be there taking care of our business, and that'd be so awkward.

What should I do? I'm bored.

I released a few more breaths, thinking about what I should really do before standing up on the bed and heaving a deep breath.

Okay! You can do this!

I hyped myself up and tapped myself on the shoulders when I felt the motivation to go out and turn the generator on.

I jumped a few times on the bed like a preschooler before I jumped over the floor, imagining that I was a cheerleader and I was going to land perfectly on the soft pink mat below my bed, and I would hear people cheering for me.

While on the air, I suddenly thought that maybe I should visit a hospital and have a check up to monitor my mental health since I am scared of how crazy I am already for the last few weeks of sleeping late, but it all turned to dust when I suddenly heard a c***k when I landed with my left foot on the water bottle that I forgot to pick up earlier.

My ankle twisted when my foot slipped from the bottle and I could see my life flashing before my eyes when I fell and bumped my head on my nightstand beside the bed.

I can feel my brain getting shaken like the sand inside a maraca. I can see a light ahead of me, like the almighty being has already come to fetch me.

A tear slipped from my eye when I remembered all those happy moments I had with my loved ones. I smiled while my hands were pressed together.

Maybe my purpose in this life is done even though I didn't do anything significant, which is quite confusing, but oh well.

I am getting tired of the same routine every day.

I pressed my hands together more tightly and closed my eyes as I felt the blood oozing from my forehead dripping like a dew.

"Almighty creator! Please reincarnate me as a rich young lady of an ultra-rich family!"

I wholeheartedly asked in my last few minutes until I felt myself slipping away from my consciousness.

I have lived a pretty decent life despite being a crackhead.

But it really stinks that I died because I slipped when I stepped on a water bottle.