A/N: Welcome to the rewrite!!!! Let's see how this goes. (edit: I'm writing this and it really hasn't changed. Im sorry)

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Your feet pounded against the concrete, your eyes looking around for any way to escape silently. But the crowded areas at every turn made it difficult. Honestly though, running was harder the older you got. But when you had a fat and hairy man with a butcher's knife chasing you, the difficulty of running slipped your mind. Even with all the running, you still had time for your quirkiness.

Hasn't anyone taught him not to run with sharp things...? Tsk.

Pause.

Why are you running from a butcher in the middle of England when you could be watching Netflix? Quick hint, Netflix doesn't exist here. I'm sorry.

But this is a long story, and of course, we have a lot of time for explaining.

You were rich. VERY rich. In fact, you were the only child of the richest family in all of (Country Name). But, if you were rich, why all the rush? You could be demanding your tea right about now. Again, it is quite the long story.

Living with riches wasn't all that fun. Especially with a family who viewed everyone as inferior. Thanks to that, the villagers around town never associated themselves with your family, and much less you. All you knew was your butler... Bob. He tried his best to raise you, to play with you, teach you manners and even how to talk to the neighborhood children. But all children were growing up to take up after their families. So they all ended up hating you for no reason at all. All thanks to your family.

Except... one girl. Rose. Thanks to her, you deviated from your parent's path and learned that the poor were people too. However, you ended up hating the rich life. Especially when the rich picked on the poor. You swore that if you ever had the chance to leave, you would. But you couldn't just leave two of the most important people in your life with your garbage family. You would feel guilty. At least... you could take one of them.

After careful planning, you were finally able to run away and take Rose with you. But there was a problem... Your parents had already known of your plan and caught you in the act. So when your parents found out about your relationship with Rose, they became engulfed in rage. They spouted nonsense about there being fine lines between being rich and being a peasant. According to your parents, Rose only wanted you for your money.

They repeated that same phrase for a year straight... locking you up so that you could never see her again. And this is where all aspects of your life became a prison.

Wake up, stare at the same high ceiling, get the same biscuit for breakfast, and spend all day in your room. It became suffocating. Day in. Day out. That same goddamned ceiling...

As the year reached its end, you have had enough. Dying was better than feeling nothing. And so, with that, you took a blade to your throat.

Little did you know that committing suicide (IS NEVER THE ANSWER; READ THE NOTES AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS STORY ABOUT THIS) was going to bring consequences in the afterlife. In fact, you woke up in the same room in which you had died but something was off. You were sure you had done the deed but, why were you alive? And of course, like any cliché of a movie, someone was standing behind you.

When you turned around, you were met with a mysterious man. In fact, he was blurry. All you could really see was the outline of his body. But the man wasn't your concern in that moment. All you could focus on was the newfound hearing you found yourself testing out. You could hear everything happening in the mansion. Every heartbeat and water droplet from the rain outside...  You were no longer human my friend. 

But your thoughts were interrupted once the man started speaking. From what the man had said, God was angered at your decision to commit suicide at such a young age. The only way to be forgiven was to work as a grim reaper until your sin was forgiven. What child labor amirite?

After the encounter, you took time out of your imprisonment to learn the grim reaper ways. So there you were, trying on different glasses in front of your mirror because F*CKING SHINIGAMIS WERE BLIND AS F*CK. 

 Ahem. Not salty at all.

After about a month, you were finally given the chance to choose a weapon. And of course, you went with a (weapon name). Badass and easy to handle... well, in your opinion.

Once you had the weapon in your hand, you were placed in charge of taking lives. But you had other plans. With this newfound power, you were finally able to take revenge.

Once night rolled in, you sat up from your bed and stretched. Tonight was the night... Getting up from the comfort of your bedsheets, you walked towards the entrance of your room and broke the doorknob to the locked door. Walking out you breathed in the air of the mansion that you had yet to breathe in months and made your way up to your parents' room. With your newfound agility, you made it up the stairs without making a noise. What a showoff.

Nevertheless, looking down at your parents gave you a sense of control. Something you had been lacking in a long time. Maybe this is what your parents meant when they would insist that having money meant being powerful. That being powerful meant you could do anything and no one could judge you. But this was different. And you were different.

And with that final thought, you passed your scythe through their bodies.

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A/N: Suicide is never the answer my dear readers. It is just a permanent solution to a temporary problem. If you need to talk, I am here willing to respond. If not, call the Suicide Hotline. 1-800-273-8255

With this note, I hope you enjoyed this rewrite. I am actually a little excited for this.