I Want To Die One Day Before You - Chapter 166
‘You’re an adult now. You can’t keep living off the orphanage anymore.’
The orphanage director told this to Roned.
It was a predictable conclusion. When the children reached a certain age, they were kicked out of the orphanage, as if being abandoned into the outside world.
He was at a loss. He spent several sleepless nights worrying. As he packed his meager belongings, Roned bit his lower lip hard.
Could he stand on his own after leaving the orphanage, the last protective fence?
What could he possibly do?
Nothing.
Aside from having a decent face and intact limbs, he had nothing. He didn’t know anything, didn’t own anything, couldn’t do anything, and had nothing he wanted to do. It was pathetically miserable.
—Maybe it would be better to just die.
As he stuffed torn clothes into a tattered leather bag, Roned had that thought.
Maybe dying would be better. He had no confidence to live, he was terrified of stepping into the outside world, and he didn’t have the ability to survive on his own. Perhaps it would be better to just die, he had thought.
But when he reconsidered, he hesitated.
There was something he wanted to do before he died.
He wanted to wear a warm fur coat. He wanted to leave behind the days when he trembled, extracting blood from his frostbitten toes.
He wanted to eat a full meal. He wanted to forget the days when he drank water to suppress his hungry stomach.
He wanted to live in a spacious room. He didn’t want to remember the days when he lived in a dirty corner infested with lice and fleas.
To do that, he needed money.
‘Money, I need money… If only I had money…’
He desperately wished for it. He thought how wonderful it would be not to worry about clothing, food, or shelter.
As Roned packed with that resolve, he heard a faint voice from behind him.
‘You have to live well even after you leave, Brother Roned.’
‘…Primrose.’
She stood by the door, dressed in ragged clothing.
She was small.
Though she had just turned eleven, she was so small due to poor nutrition that she looked no more than five or six years old. Seeing her, a thought suddenly struck him.
‘Primrose, do you want to come with me?’
‘Where would we go?’
‘Someday, when you’re older, you’ll have to leave the orphanage like I do. Don’t wait until then, let’s leave together now and live on our own.’
Roned urged Primrose.
Taking her with him was a calculated move. While he had affection for the child he had watched grow up, there was a bigger reason.
People are weak to little girls. Especially to small, cute girls. This was something Roned had learned during his time at the orphanage.
He had observed it while living at the orphanage. Most of the children who were adopted were girls, particularly those who were pretty and well-behaved. The reason Primrose hadn’t been adopted was because she was small and frail. No one wanted to take a girl who looked so weak for her age.
This could be used to his advantage.
‘I actually like it here…’
When Primrose hesitated, Roned grabbed her arm tightly.
‘Listen to me. How long do you want to live eating soup that tastes like dishwater?’
‘Brother, have you eaten a dishcloth?’
‘Shut up. If we leave here, we can eat something tastier than this thin cabbage soup.’
‘Like fish?’
‘What’s so good about fish that smells like rot? I’ll buy you meat, meat.’
That afternoon, Roned secretly took Primrose and left the orphanage.
After all, the place was overflowing with unnecessary orphans. No one would bother looking for a child who had disappeared.
Once out on the street, Roned began begging with Primrose.
Roned’s plan was somewhat effective. Passersby who would have otherwise ignored Roned would see Primrose and toss them a coin.
Of course, they never received enough to buy meat. But it was just a little more filling than life at the orphanage.
They lived like that, begging for a few months.
‘There’s a limit to how long we can live by begging for money every day.’
Roned thought as he looked at Primrose, curled up and sleeping under a bridge.
They needed money. More than they had now.
That night, Roned left the sleeping Primrose alone and set out on the road.
He headed to a nearby farmhouse.
Through the barn, he saw a pile of straw. Picking up a sickle that was lying nearby, Roned cut off a handful of straw.
Neigh!
The horse, startled by the sudden intruder, neighed loudly.
‘Who’s there!’
Awakened, the farmer ran out with a club.
Clutching the straw tightly, Roned ran like mad.
He ran and ran. Along the way, he tripped over stones several times, splitting his forehead open, and his skin was torn and scratched by thorns. But he didn’t stop.
If he got caught, he would be beaten. He wouldn’t be able to get medical treatment even if he was injured. Born a commoner with no magical power, he had no money to see a doctor. So he had to run. Because he had no money.
Money, money, because of that damned lack of money.
‘Brother, where did you go?’
When he returned to the bridge, Primrose was awake, waiting for him. She looked terrified, scared by his sudden disappearance.
Without answering, Roned panted heavily and threw the pile of straw at her.
‘We’re going to make baskets out of this and sell them. Let’s get started.’
