Chapter 8: I'm Not Like Them
Rena (narrating):
Everyone—my parents, neighbors, teachers—they all say the same thing about me.
"Such an introvert."
"So quiet."
"Like a little angel."
But what they didn't know was…
I wasn't thinking about school or games or dolls.
I was thinking about death.
---
Rena (age 6) stood at the top of the staircase, staring down. Her tiny hands gripped the railing. She smiled.
Rena (inner voice):
"What happens after death? Do I disappear? Or feel peace?"
Only one way to find out…
She jumped.
Darkness. Silence. Then…
Light.
She opened her eyes on a hospital bed. A nurse held her hand. Her mom was crying. Her dad looked frozen.
But I survived.
---
After that, I tried again. And again.
But death didn't want me. Not yet.
One day, I held a sharp pencil in my hand. My best friend was sitting beside me, laughing about something. I wasn't listening. I was watching her neck.
Rena (inner voice):
"Should I try it now?"
Just then—
Mom (calling out):
"Kids! Come! Food's ready!"
I let go.
That day, my mom looked at me differently. Like she knew something wasn't right.
---
They took me to the hospital for a checkup.
Doctor (smiling politely):
"Your daughter's healthy. All tests are normal. No signs of mental distress."
Rena (staring at the ceiling, deadpan inner voice): "Stupid man… look properly. I'm a psycho