Novel & Cerita Fullmetal Alchemist Opening Theme

The shewolves in Shadow Pack all said I was lucky. Alpha Erwin Keller had doted on me alone for eight years. However, the same werewolf who swore he would only ever want to be with me gave me two 'gifts' the day I brought him home to meet my mom, Katie Spencer, to discuss our marking ceremony. The first gift was tying Katie to a chair and having his Beta rip her clothes apart right in front of me. The second gift was deliberately opening the door and letting my dad, Felix Spencer, who had already lost his wolf spirit, run outside. There was pouring rain outside. Felix ran to the edge of a cliff and fell over. Katie was still tied to the chair. She watched Felix die right in front of her. She snapped the ropes like a mad wolf and jumped off the cliff to die with Felix. In a single night, I lost both my parents. I kneeled in a pool of blood and asked Erwin why he did all this. He pinched my chin and sneered. "Lara, did you really think I loved you? I came for revenge!" It turned out that during the territorial war ten years ago, his dad died saving mine, and his mom took her own life afterward. Erwin spent eight years carefully weaving a lie of love. It was all so I could experience what it felt like to lose my entire family. Later, Erwin kept me trapped by his side and tortured me. I tried to kill myself 99 times. He saved me all 99 times. He said we would torture each other until we grew old. What he didn't know was that ten years ago, when his wolf spirit was completely destroyed and he was barely alive, I was the one who begged an Alpha from another pack to place a curse on me so that he could live. In return, I only had eight years left to live. Now, I was seven days away from my own impending doom!

Throughout my seven years of living in this residential area, I've been helping my neighbors receive their parcels and babysit their children no matter how sudden the requests are. All sorts of delivered goods have gone through my hands, be it tiny regular parcels, special deliveries containing raw seafood, or furniture and electrical appliances. My motto is that close-knitted neighbors are more dependable rather than my family, who lives very far away from me. That's why I never hesitate to lend a helping hand as long as the circumstances permit me to do so. In fact, I often deliver everyone's parcels to their units. But one day, Carmen Webber, a young woman who has just moved into the apartment, brings this topic up during a casual chit-chat with the other neighbors. "Nowadays, the parcel lockers and the parcel pickup points are very convenient to use. There's absolutely no need to specifically get someone to sign your parcels for you. Could it be that Hilary is using the guise of doing things for everyone just to make some quick bucks under the table? "After all, those who accept parcels on behalf of others tend to get paid. You guys must have slipped her some money every time you drop by her place to pick up your stuff, right? Imagine how lucrative business must be for her!" Carmen then shoots me a glance, mockery dripping from her tone. The neighbors just swap looks with each other. Then, they turn their suspicious gazes to me. That's when Carmen adds, "Next time, you can seek me out when you need someone to accept parcels and babysit children for you. I have a lot of free time on my hands, and I promise that I won't earn a single cent from you guys!" My heart goes stone cold when I listen to everyone else agreeing with Carmen. Over the past seven years, I'm the one paying for everything, be it opening my door in the middle of the night to accept a delivery, babysitting children for others, or making up for the lost packages and the spoiled seafood. Not only do I not earn a single cent, but I've also lost quite a huge amount of money. On top of that, many of my plans get delayed or rescheduled, too. Since Carmen wants to be the good Samaritan this badly, I might as well let her take over all these troublesome and thankless matters from now on.

Before we submit our college applications, I help our homeroom teacher hand out each student's sealed official records envelope as the class monitor. But the class belle, Vivian Nash, says she's an art student who's about to debut as a celebrity. To thank everyone for taking care of her, she asks the whole class to tear open their sealed envelopes and slip one of her glamor shots inside so they can "share in her good luck." My boyfriend, Brandon Dunn, immediately steps up as her childhood friend. He says he doesn't just want one of her photos, but he also wants her autograph on his envelope. Afraid something might go wrong, I immediately warn him that opening the sealed envelope could negatively affect his application to Caldoria University's School of Foreign Service. Before I can even finish speaking, Brandon kicks me hard in the stomach. The other students laugh and mock me. "You're just stirring up trouble for no reason. Everyone knows what you're really thinking. You're just afraid Vivian will get back together with your boyfriend!" I'm so furious I can't even find the words. But due to my responsibility as the class monitor, I call our homeroom teacher over and forcefully stop the absurd stunt. Later, everyone gets into their dream colleges. Well, everyone except for Vivian. At our class reunion six months later, Vivian suddenly bursts into tears in front of the entire class. She accuses loudly, "Why did you isolate me? It's your fault I made a mistake on my college application!" I'm dumbfounded. Suddenly, she grabs me by the throat and forces poisoned liquor down my throat. I die before I can be saved. After my death, Brandon and our classmates all defend Vivian. They even paint me as the class bully. Meanwhile, she goes viral by livestreaming her sob story and quickly becomes a rising celebrity. When I open my eyes again, I'm back at the moment Brandon is eagerly playing the gallant knight backing up his damsel. This time, I take the initiative and hand him his sealed envelope. "I think Vivian is right. It'd be nice to keep one of her photos as a souvenir."