Trigger warning: Suicide
Sheol never had an interesting life. Each day felt exactly the same as the last, each day she lacked a goal to work towards, friends to talk to, she even seemed invisible at her job. In a way it was kind of her own fault, she never spoke up for herself and always followed what others had to say. "You should cut your hair." Alright, maybe it's getting too long, it'll be lighter anyway, so she'd have her hair trimmed by the next day. Unless it was an off the wall request, she'd likely do the task just to avoid conflict. In short, she never had thoughts for her own self.
Anytime she went to make friends, she always expected them to keep in contact. Never did she persist after them. If they ignored or forgot about her, it was just one of many to add to the list. Over the years she received a few knick knacks, keeping them as brief memories of friendship. But, day by day, what thoughts she did have to herself turned more and more negative. 'What if I disappeared? Would anyone notice? Would anyone care?' Typical thoughts that should be discussed, yet she believed she had no one to discuss them with.
It happened one chilly night, her thoughts took over. Emotionless as any other day, she began trying to end her life, but each attempt was a failure. Overdosing, self harm, anything she could think of, yet she chickened out at the last possible moment. She never knew why she couldn't bring herself to do such, she didn't have friends or family to live for, no goals, no one relied on her. She couldn't even perform this one task right. Disgruntled with herself, she finally decided to sleep for the night.
'How did I end up here?' she asked herself, seeming to wake up outside, wandering aimlessly as if she had been sleepwalking. This place was still familiar to her, leading herself back home after some time. It was late after all, the last thing she wanted to hear after today was that she didn't show up for work. Opening her apartment door was a lot harder than she imagined, but she managed, only to be met with an ungodly stench. Her apartment wasn't that filthy, was it? No it was as if an animal had crawled in and died in a corner. Her discovery was much more shocking than that.
A corpse was nestled in her bed, in the same position she slept in every night, its flesh embedded into the blankets. Her attempts did succeed, a combination of them all had taken her life as she slept, without her knowing. 'No one.. even noticed.' The shock didn't have a chance to settle in, she knew what had happened. Weeks had passed, and no one had even checked on her. They had no reason to, what she believed had become true. She was nothing but a shadow to the world. At that moment, she shed a tear for herself, finally getting her true answer. As she left, she kept the door cracked, at least for someone to possibly find her now.
Nowadays, she resides in the underworld, still with the same mindset, yet with flimsy angel wings affixed to her back, and a halo pinned in her hair. Why an angel of all things? And if she's an angel, why was she sent to the underworld? She didn't even have a purpose here, why were they keeping her? Regardless, she had been accepted into a small group of other underworld dwellers, rather persistent on being her friend. She didn't seem to mind, they lasted longer than any other friends she had. She grew a fondness for flowers over time, saying she collects them for herself since she never received any in her lifetime, not even for a funeral.
What she doesn't know, is that she's meant to be an angel of regret. A being who helps troubled souls solve their personal issues, and let go of their regret. But first, she has to learn to cope with her own. Being nothing more than a silhouette to others will prove this a difficult challenge.