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Rekrap fears that he may be alive. This seems absurd to everyone who hears such a statement, because of course he's alive. If he wasn't, he'd be dead...obviously. Yet, it seems to Rekrap that he should not be considered "alive".
After all, just because his heart is beating and his lungs are heaving and his mind is racing doesn't mean he's alive. These are the signs of life, sure, but he doesn't quite feel alive. What does "alive" even feel like?
If it's choking on his own fear every time he awakens, he's not sure he wants to be alive.
If it's developing a dependency on invisibility, he's not sure he wants to be alive.
If it's having his teammate repeatedly stab him in the back, he's not sure he wants to be alive.
Yet...if this is what being "alive" feels like, then he is (unfortunately, he thinks) alive.
He wakes every morning to gag on palpable terror, dry heaving over the side of his bed until it is acidic bile dripping from his lips and coagulating in shimmering puddles upon his floor.
He downs an invisibility potion the moment sunlight can even touch his paling flesh, keeping three bottles of the viscous magic stocked at his hip.
He gets a ghostly blade skewered through flesh and bone the instant he lets his guard down, only for that knife to be twisted into his spine with a smile on his friend's face. He's told it's fine - "You're okay" - and Rekrap believes him. He always does.
After all, this is just what being alive feels like...ĭ̵͕s̶̘̓n̵̫̓'̴͉̋t̸̜̕ ̴̹̈i̷͙͂t̵̨̀?̵̲̆?
...so...
...why does no one else seem to hate being alive as much as he does?