Prey and Predator Part 1: American Isekai, #5

By Curtis Yost

Rachael Dawson is a little girl trying to live her best life.  While walking out into traffic, a mysterious man saves her life.  She slowly grows up looking at the mysterious man as a hero.  Upon her death she goes to a second world that God has sent her.  Rachael meets up with her hero only to fall in love in a land filled with some of the most evil people alive.  Some moment may trigger a person.  Reader discretion is advised.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Curtis Yost
• Release date: Sep 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223480297

Curtis Yost

My name is Curtis Yost and I have been creating content for over twenty years.  I never felt that I had enough life experience to talk about things.  As I got older, I realized that having fun while writing was what I wanted to do and published my first series. American Isekai was a two year planned series that is now be writen every single day until I finish it.  The books are completely character based on some of the most flawed people you could imagine to save the world.  I'm proud of it and hope that when it ends, people will want to enjoy their own dark fantasies after.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Hello, my name is Rachel Dawson. I wanted to start this story with a greeting. I am a seven-year-old girl. I know what a strange age to create an account about dying. Don’t worry; I was much older when I died. I just felt like I should start here because this was the day my life changed.

My father and mother were in the middle of a child support battle in court. My father did his best to find work and support me, but my mother kept demanding more since she refused to work.

I woke up with my mother in October. I had on my Betty sheets that were toasty to sleep in at night. I had Betty dolls all over my room. I was up late playing with them. I was still in my pink pajamas. I loved these things. It had all the creatures from my favorite show, Targon. I put on my pink fuzzy slippers and walked to the kitchen.

My mother was in the kitchen brushing her teeth. I walked out and sat down at the table. I would have to sit there because my mother refused to let me get my breakfast. She always told me that I had slippery fingers. All I wanted to eat was marshmallow and grain cereal every morning. It was always a generic brand, so the symbols on the box always looked different depending on which store we got them from.

I swayed my legs back and forth underneath the table. My mom wasn’t paying any attention to me. I would rock them so hard that the chair would move to get my mom’s attention. She was too busy looking at things on her phone. She kept swiping on a dating application. I think it was called Bazzonga. I was becoming a close fifth on her list of essential things.

I sat there for over twenty minutes before my mother noticed me. My mother spit her toothpaste into the kitchen sink. I didn’t think about it then, but it was gross. We washed out dishes in that sink. Since mom rarely did the dishes, she was spitting all over them.

My mom looked at me and said, Since you didn’t leave bed on time. You don’t get to eat. We have to get to the court on time.

I was in my pajamas still. I didn’t have a good concept of time but I knew I was out there for a while. I think she brushed her teeth for the fourth or fifth time before she noticed me. I couldn’t ask her for stuff because she said I would be a snot-nosed brat.

I got to my room hungry and had to pick out a dress. I took off my pajamas and stood there in my underwear. I had two dresses to wear for special occasions. I had to choose between the blue one with white dots and the white one with flowers. I was about to choose the white one when my mom came in.

My mom said, Put on the blue one. It’s supposed to rain today.

I didn’t want to put on the blue one. I wanted to feel like a princess that day. I had to, though, since my mother was in charge. I didn’t want to be punished for disobeying. So I put on a blue dress with white spots.

When I put the dress on, I noticed it had pockets. I was always bored with these court things, so I grabbed a red ball out of my drawer. I put the item in my dress. I was prepared to bounce it all over the courthouse.

I would have instead gone to school, but my mother demanded we do this.  She would say that it’s only first grade and has no bearing on the rest of my life.  Going to court did.

I searched through my dresser a little more. I had to find my leggings. My mom tells me that only whores show off too much leg. The weird thing was. She never wore the leggings. I wasn’t sure why I had to. I put them on, though, since she would smack me if I didn’t.

I put the leggings on and my shoes. I still didn’t know how to tie my shoes very well. My mom always had me wear Velcro shoes. I wore a pair of yellow rainboots, and my mom walked by the door again.

My mom said, Don’t be an idiot. Put on black shoes with buckles. It makes you look nicer.

I took my boots off and laid them next to me. I had to dig through my closet to find the shoes she was talking about. I never cleaned my closet. I had to dig through all the clothes to find them. Most of them needed to be washed. I wasn’t the cleanest of kids.

I finally found the shoes and put them on. I stood up and looked in the mirror. I would stare at my face. I didn’t know if I was pretty. I had blue eyes like my dad. I had a mix of the two of my parents. I just thought I was ugly, even at a young age.

I put my hands on my hips and swayed them back and forth. I would feel better with a bit of dancing. My mom walked in and saw my leggings weren’t up all he way. She lifted my dress and grabbed the leggings, pulling them up. She adjusted my skirt.

My mom said, Come on. We can’t be late.

I said, I’m hungry.

My mom said, Maybe we can pick something up after the hearing.

I opened the door and ran past three entrances to the elevator. One of my favorite things to do was push the elevator button. My mom didn’t keep up. She looked at her phone, texted people, and grabbed a blue umbrella.

The elevator was almost up to our floor. My mom turned around and quickly locked the door. She ran over to the elevator. She would rush to get to the elevator.  There was this one time I pressed the button and got on.  My mother wasn’t paying attention and I rode the elevator for a while.  Now, if she doesn’t make it and I get on.  My mother would beat the Hell out of me.  It wasn’t my fault she was not paying attention.

My mom got to the elevator right on time. She grabbed the back of my dress so I didn’t run off. The doors came open from the side. The elevator had two weird-looking black guys in it. The two of them stank but were flirting with my mom.

My mom had a red dress that went almost up to her butt. She would show as much cleavage as possible to win the judge’s favor. My mom put on a lot of make-up. She worked hard to look attractive to the people in the city. Walking down the street, we often heard men whistle at her. She would call the men scum but kept doing things to get the attention.

We got down to the first floor and walked out. She took a moment. Her face was still buried in the phone. I never knew what she was looking at, but sometimes at night. I heard moaning from the phone. I could see the light flashing across her face, and her eyes would be closed. I would leave her alone since she looked weird.

We walked out the doors of the building to head to the courthouse. The second we got outside, there was a hole in the street that would shoot off steam. The steam always looked fantastic, but it often had a stinky smell.

My mom was walking as fast as she could, but her heels held her back. I never understood why she wore them. They always hurt her feet. She had a hard time moving in them. The shoes caused her feet to have these puffy things that she would have to soak in the water later. I later realized my mother had blisters.

We stood in front of the courthouse. There was a metal portrait above the building. It looked like a man, woman, and child with a scythe in the background. That pretty much summed up domestics. They were the death of the family. I would see my dad whenever he wasn’t working. I missed having him around. Since he worked most of the time, I barely got to see him.

We walked into the building. Two police officers were sitting there at the metal detectors. I walked through first. The alarm went off, and I looked confused. The officer took a wand and went over me with it. The buckles on my shoes set it off. They let me pass.

My mom went through the detectors. She didn’t go off, but the officers patted her down just in case. She did a turnaround as they checked her for...I’m not sure. There was no place for her to stash something. They let her pass and sat down in front of the courtroom.

I sat down and pulled out my ball. I tossed it into the air. I just wanted something to do while I was waiting. These things were so dull. I kept missing the ball. The ball had a lot of bounce to it. It would fly all over the hallway to the courtroom.

My mom scowled at me. She had a set of rules that would make a young girl bored all her life. Nobody else was in the hallway at the time. I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t play a little before we sat there.

The doors opened, and a guy came out. He was another officer. He had black skin with white hair. His uniform looked black. He had a belt with a lot of different stuff on it. I saw he had a gun and was a little worried. The officer smiled and moved his hands to have me come in.

I grabbed my red ball and walked down through the center of the room. There were wooden benches on each side of us. I got to the front bench and sat down. My mom sat at a table on the left side of the room. She was pretty jittery about being there. I don’t think she liked being there.

I saw her take off her shoes under the table. There were three microphones at each table. My dad couldn’t afford a lawyer. So he would come in and represent himself. He wasn’t well versed in the law but knew enough to get by. He always tried to do the right thing. Since he worked all the time, my mother didn’t have to.

My mother got a state-appointed lawyer. Their job was to represent domestic relations. They were the ones to go in and describe what the financials said. It was always an intelligent woman that didn’t like anyone.

My dad came through the doors. My eyes lit up. I ran to him for a hug yelling, DADDY!

You could always tell he was happy to see me. His face would light up. I would give him the most significant, vigorous hug in the world. He did his best to clean up but always had dirt behind his ears.

My dad put me down and said, Good to see you, sweetheart.

I sat down on the bench behind him. My mom was ignoring both of us. She just went on her phone while waiting for the judge. The phone kept making noise from everyone she talked to there. I didn’t feel it was a good life to live.

My mother turned off her phone as the judge was coming in. The officer said, All rise.

My parents stood up. I didn’t know what I was doing, so I stayed seated. The judge didn’t seem to care that I didn’t stand. He shuffled through some papers on the desk at the front. He motioned his hands to have people sit. His right hand scratched his head.

The judge said, I see here that, as of right now. Mr. Dawson has been paying you eleven hundred a month.

My mother said, Yes, your honor.

My father remained seated and didn’t say a word. His job was giving less work for the time being. The last time my father was in here. He was working eighty hours a week. The judge was looking over the paystubs. My father was still paying eleven hundred a month. My dad was doing his best but wasn’t making enough to pay his bills. Over half his check was going to my mom.

The judge said, I know you are looking for more money, Miss Moore. I am looking here with the attorney you have. It appears he was overpaying you. The court trusts the domestic relations folks. According to all the documents brought in and presented before the court. He will only owe you eight hundred and fifty-two dollars now instead.

My mom’s face was turning red. She was angry at the court’s decision. All my mother cared about was money. She didn’t know how she would be able to afford her lifestyle.

My mother used her money for phones and going out at night drinking.  The make-up alone cost her three hundred a month.  The money was meant to go to me, but was used for her lifestyle instead. 

The men she brought home were deadbeats that would also cost money.  She was getting a little older and was less appealing to men of the younger demographic so he would use her money to get a temporary fuck toy.  I guess she won’t be doing that anymore.

I was growing out of some of my clothes.  The clothes that fit are ones my father bought me on his weekend visits.  He knew the money wasn’t going to me, but did what he could anyway.  All my father wanted was the best life for me, but had no control over it and it made him sad.

My mom rebutted, Your honor, I can’t afford the things we have now. This is New York. I’m unsure how we will get by on so little money.

The judge said, Ma'am, I want to remind you that she is your daughter too. I see you said you don’t have any money coming in. You depend on this man who is not your husband too much. You can’t have your cake and eat it too. I want to tell you that many jobs are available. Your daughter is in school. You can work part-time and make up the losses.

My mom was angry. She took my father to court for more money, which severely backfired. I think she had to figure out a way to make money. She had never worked a day in her life. I had no idea how she was going to take care of me. The state paid for our place to live. She even had four hundred dollars in food stamps. Half of the food stamp money was sold so she could party at night.  My mom used to say drinks aren’t cheap.

My mom was breaking down right there in front of the judge. She would put on the waterworks whenever something didn’t go her way.  My mother was so good at crying that I think she would have gotten an award if she was an actor.  She would have never become an actor.  That would require her to work.

My mother rode in a guy’s car once. The guy was going eighty miles per hour in a twenty-five zone.  My mother told him to switch seats.  The guy was glad to switch since he might get out of paying a ticket.  The cop spoke to her for a while.  Somehow, she got off with a warning.  My mom never had a license either.  She lived in the city all her adult life and never needed to.

The judge put the order in place. He was used to women like her all day long. I don’t want to say that he was heartless. He just saw so much that he didn’t care. He beat the gavel down and dismissed us.

My dad turned around and gave me a big hug. He stood up and kissed the top of my head. I held onto his leg and didn’t want to let go. I loved my dad a lot. I just knew with his work. I wouldn’t see him much. He would always tell me how he wished things were different.

My dad said, I love you, sweetheart. I’ll see you this weekend.

My mom ran over and grabbed me by the left arm, yanking me out of there. I was being dragged out of the courtroom into the hallway. A bunch of people around us were watching. My mom whacked me in the back of the legs with her blue umbrella.

We got to the steps between two pillars. It was raining outside. My mom opened her blue umbrella. I was trying to catch up to her. I was getting rained on badly. She brought out her phone in a fury. She was talking on the phone, telling the world what happened in court. She was fuming so bad that she forgot about me.

I was racing to get up to her. My mom just pushed through the crowd with all the craziness. Nobody was looking for a young kid. I was getting tossed back and forth. While I was getting knocked around, my red ball fell out of my pocket.

The ball had fallen into the road. No cars were there. I looked back and forth. I went out to grab my red ball. The ball was being washed into a drain. As I was walking over to get it quickly, a strange man picked me up.

My initial thought was that I was getting kidnapped. I was about to yell stranger danger. I was terrified. The man threw me into the air. I lost one of my shoes while in the air.

I fell onto the sidewalk and looked back. He looked like he froze.  I slowly watched as he was hit by a bus. His face went into the grill of the bus. Blood was flying everywhere. His face was incredibly messed up.

The man’s body got pulled under the bus. I felt like I was watching it in slow motion. That could have been me. I could have been getting wrapped underneath the tires, getting tossed around like a rag doll. I could feel a great weight on my chest. I wanted this moment to end.

A red-headed woman ran over to me. She saw me lying on the ground. Everyone was bringing out their cell phones, taking pictures, and making videos. Nobody was trying to help this man.

The bus driver opened the door and ran outside. He took out his cell phone and immediately called the police. He was freaking out about hitting a guy. The driver seemed to be hyperventilating. I think he needed an inhaler.

The red-headed woman was hugging me and holding onto me tightly. She went out of her way to block all the gore from the bus. The rain was stopped from hitting me by her body. I looked up at her nose, which had freckles on it.

The red-headed woman said, Don’t look, honey. This is not for a little girl to see. SSSHHHH!

Her voice cracked a bit. She kept looking back. I think she knew the guy. She just kept shushing me. I think that was her way of trying to protect a little girl. I felt like this woman was a mom. I wasn’t used to this kind of affection. I should have pushed her off, but I didn’t want it to stop.

My mother was nowhere to be found. She was a block away before she noticed the bus crash. When she realized what had happened, she ran back. Instead of looking for me, she took out her phone and took pictures of the scene.

Once my mother got enough pictures, she looked around for me. When she saw that a woman had her hands around me hugging, she stormed over and grabbed the woman by her left arm. My mother was infuriated that someone was touching me.

My mom asked the woman, What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

The redheaded lady said, I am just trying to calm her down. She was nearly killed. Where were you? I’m not even sure if she is yours.

The lady looked at me and asked if she was my mother. I said Yes to her. I knew what was going on. People’s attention was set on me now. People were videotaping and taking pictures of me. I was the center of attention.

My mom walked over and hugged me hard. She was clearly showing off for the cameras. This was her moment for her fifteen minutes of fame.

Nothing was going right for my mom, and she wasn’t around.  When the bus crashed, she wasn’t right there to witness, and a stranger saved her daughter. The stranger died in the process. I think she was happy about it because that means he wouldn’t be taking away