A/N- here's the relevant info for this chapter, anything else will be included in a quick A/N. A/N = author note just in case you weren't aware

Y/N = Your Name.

Swear warning

Immature writer warning

Possible trigger warnings including mental health (e.g mentions of depression, mania, and implications of suicidal thoughts)

Notice - the quality of each individual chapter may differ greatly because this book is under editing and i barely used to update it so my writing skills have changed over time.

If you see a - between paragraphs, thats where i've stopped editing for a bit. So if you see a noticeable difference or a plot error between the - and everywhere else that's why

Y/Ns POV
I don't remember much, another home, another place, some family. I do vaguely remember some details though, like how my home had flowers in and birds would sing their melodys all around our home. And that's it, nothing else. No memories. No "promise me" dead parent stereotypes nor siblings, at least I think.

I remember a large building stuffed to the brim with other children, some older some younger than i. Adults would walk in every now and then to take them away. If i remember correctly it was an orphanage or adoption centre, doesn't really matter which since i left a long time ago.

I find it hard to feel emotions some times, obviously i can be happy, sad, angry etc.. but empathy was always one that stunted me. Maybe if i'm really honest with myself all of them seem to be dulled down. On the one hand i want to feel more JUST so i can feel some normality, so i can maybe just fit in with society as a whole. Yet on the other hand feelings can be misleading, blinding towards a proper issue. Happiness being the worst offender, you can be happy about something and then someone will make it their job to pull the rug from underneath you and the utter despair you feel is amplified by the joy you felt before. It's sick.

And who says we want to be permanently happy anyways? What is it with this societal pressure to be happy? Only feeling one feeling is the same as feeling none at all. Numbing to the core. It's why people with depression are just as bad off with people with mania. Well maybe aside from some of the... undesirable affects depression brings with it.

By the time i was 18 i was chucked into a council flat and basically told to fuck off and fend for myself. Lovely. I used to camp on fields because it had better scenery than the shitty excuse for a garden it had. Though seeing others dusted on a regular basis over petty crimes wasn't particularly grand either.

Oh yeah. Did i forget to mention that? I live in an area where gang wars dominate my local area, you can see monsters and humans alike being slaughtered over something as simple as looking at people funny. Local authorities are shit at tackling the problems, they try i'll give them that. But they fail spectacularly almost every time, the main problem is, they're monsters. They have magic, and authorities don't. Simple as.

But thats all boring shit about whats going on around me. Whats going on in me is a different story. I don't even know why i have her, but Alex is inside of me. Not many others have an Alex although i have seen it before

"Oh fuck off Y/N! I'm original! A total classic, everyone loves me!"

I sighed 'thanks for saying that OUT LOUD to NOBODY Alex real fucking helpful' i thought to myself, Alex wasn't some sort of GLaDOS style villain or anything, they're not even evil! Just. A pain in the arse. They're supposed to be my 'sense of morality' approaching but thats the most either of us know at the moment. Not many people with Alex's actually know why or how, each Alex is different. Mine is... well, you'll see.

Because of Alex's function as a moral compss they can occasionally take over my body to prevent me from doing things that will be definitely to us. Thankfully i'm not a maniac and Alex is pretty chill, we don't usually fight for control but we do have our... disagreements... from time to time.

I snap out of my zoned out state as the kettle whistled 'oh yeah the tea' i take it off the stove and pour the boiling water into the mug, which contained (sugar/sweetener amount of your preference) and a tea bag, which floated to the top, staining the bubbling liquid a warm brown as rest dissolved.

It was quiet here but that's how i like it, peaceful. Gives some variety to the shit show outside. I reach into my fridge and go to grab the milk

"I told you we should've got extra milk, now we have to go outside and buy some! I'll take the wheel if you don't feel like it"

"The tea will be cold by the time we get back, we'll make do for now and set off to the shop tomorrow morning. For now, i'm getting some biscuits for this" i say in our empty apartment with nobody in it.

889 words
Yay! The prologue has finally been fully re-written! I hope you don't mind the changes as i move on throughout the book. For any new readers, I hope you enjoy!