《Trash》


 The Window Washer

    A large, bright sun basked the metropolitan landscape below in its fiery radiance, reflecting against the towering glass-covered structures that were my current life. I shielded my eyes against the rays and directed my attention to the street below. A warm breeze brushed past my face, rustling the leaves in the verdant trees, carrying the vitality and lively exuberance of spring.


    I made sure not to lean out too much from the lift as I scrutinized the tiny people below.


    <h6>They¡¯re like ants.</h6>


    Too focused on their jobs to pay heed to the abundance of nature that allowed their town to become prosperous. They were too deeply immersed in their concerns about day-to-day troubles to worry about small things like the weather. Their lives were so robotic, endlessly going through the same routine.


    Despite their busy lives, they all served a purpose in their way.  Somewhere, they truly belonged. They were useful and valuable, unlike me. I am trash. Nothing. Uselessness. A blemish in the existential records of the universe. A glitch. An anomaly. A mistake. Something was always off about my life. I never fit in anywhere, no matter where I looked or how hard I tried. And silly me, I thought it was because I was some extraordinary, eccentric genius of the century, destined to make significant waves. But reality hit me with the cold, hard truth.


    I am nothing.


    I might be smarter than most, but it never mattered to anyone. In my desperation for recognition, I sought meaning; God. I remember a verse in the Bible that says, ''Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,¡¯ but I never found such solace, no matter how hard I searched. Then I realized God doesn''t care about me in the least. He may care for others, but not me.


    <h6>¡®Could he not see me, or did the universe want me dead? Not merely the stopping of my breath, but the total erasure of my existence?¡¯</h6>


    I shook the uncomfortable thoughts out of my head and dipped a rag into the sudsy bucket. My hand slid swiftly over the glass, creating an arc free from dust and grime but now sparkling with cloudy water. The wiper I was supposed to be using broke this morning, forcing me to use this worthless rag. It¡¯s just another way the universe punishes me for existing.


    There was no way I''d dare tell my hot-headed boss about it. I was currently eighty meters in the air and had just started on the first window. I let out a long sigh as I took in the seemingly endless windows around me. Despair was slowly filling my heart. I smashed the rag against the window again and created another streaky rainbow.


    It was still early morning. The rush hour had already begun, and classes would start in about four hours. There was no way I¡¯d finish this in time. I moved across the building, wiping away the dirt as fast as I could. After a couple of hours, I lowered the lift to the ground and walked inside the building, bracing myself for what was coming.


    <h6>¡®How am I going to explain?¡¯</h6>


    I zipped down the bleak corridors to the elevator and tried my best to ignore the stares of the people inside as I squeezed into the compartment like a sardine.


    I reached for the top button, the last floor where my boss had his office. The elevator traveled upwards, highlighted with the occasional melodic *ding* and some extra breathing room. My mind raced through defensive strategies that might come in handy in a few minutes. His ruthless accusations that I inevitably failed to parry cut through my concentration.


    I looked up from the carpeted floor, where my gaze had unfocused, as the doors finally opened for the last stop. The familiar myriad of offices in front of me with their stark white walls and cheap brown doors sprawled out like a dense jungle filled with suits and ties. My worn work boots slowly stepped out onto a ¡®pristine¡¯ floor. I tried to go unnoticed as I headed to the big office. My mind once again went over the words to say. I reached out to knock on the door but stopped short. There were moaning sounds coming from inside.


    I understood immediately and retreated to the waiting room, anxiously checking my watch. Only an hour left until school starts.


    <h6>¡®Will I have time to catch a bus?¡¯</h6>


    I twiddled my thumbs, and my thoughts slowly spiraled down into a dark abyss.


    When my sister and I were little, I¡¯d rip apart her dolls when I was angry and blame it on the dog. She¡¯d cry her eyes out while I smiled. If I had known¡­ I would have been nicer. I should¡¯ve treated her better.


    My dad took her death a lot harder than I could have ever imagined. He changed. He took up smoking and became more aggressive, with loud outbursts that led to angry punches thrown at my mom. I almost always came home to find the aftermath of bruises and black eyes. For my mom, the brightest joy in her life had left her forever. She never cooked again, forcing me to fend for myself most days, but I didn¡¯t complain. Whenever someone asked, she''d force a smile and say everything was okay. I knew she was trying to be strong for me. But I knew she wasn''t okay. I drowned in my sorrows, not unlike my dad. I tried singing. My childish voice gave me hope, but that too was soon taken from me as puberty crushed that dream of salvation.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    High school was another terrible experience. I wasn¡¯t noteworthy enough to be recognized, nor likable enough to have friends. They shunned me, and on the rare occasion they acknowledged my existence, it was to mock me. I tried not to bear any grudges, though, as I had gradually convinced myself I was nothing but a background character, an extra - unimportant.


    I thought I might have friends. Their brief contact gave me a modicum of hope that I wasn''t worthless. However, I soon realized they were opportunists. They¡¯d only meet me when they wanted something. I¡¯d oblige, happy for the attention, even if reality gnawed at the back of my mind. I sought approval but instead got labeled an attention-seeking, ass-kissing freak.


    I finally broke, so depressed that I barely felt anymore. Clearly, I was not meant to exist. If I ever tried to leave a mark, the universe would erase it.


    I was awakened from my brooding by the clack of the door handle turning.


    A bright, youthful lady with plenty of freckles strutted out, adjusting her tight miniskirt. She took lipstick from her peach-colored purse and revived the pale shade of red on her lips. Confident strides, her eyes raised higher than the sky, she was probably one of those power-hungry women who weren¡¯t afraid to do anything (or anyone?) to get what she wanted.


    Her bosom was unbelievably large, to the point where I couldn¡¯t stop staring at it. My face briefly flushed with heat, but I tore my unworthy eyes away, and the excitement fizzled out. She glanced over at me and flashed a bright smile before walking out. I stood up and returned to the office, took a deep breath, and opened the door, completely forgetting to knock. I looked at the man behind the large mahogany desk. It was tall, although the height wasn''t apparent while he sat elevated behind it.


    His chiseled features and handsome yet somewhat fat face gave him a charismatic and threatening aura. In complete contrast was his body. His stomach protruded, putting immense stress on the business suit he was wearing. I stood there silently, frozen and staring, afraid to speak. He slowly unbuttoned his vest and breathed a sigh of relief.


    He finally noticed me. ¡°Damn! Didn''t your parents teach you how to knock?¡± he bellowed.


    ¡°I-I''m sorry,¡± I stammered an apology, my chest tightening.


    ¡°Whatever. Why are you here? You done with the windows?" he asked sternly, adjusting his jacket and quickly buttoning it up again.


    ¡°About that¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± he barked. ¡°Out with it!¡±


    He stared down his nose suspiciously at me. I was already crucified.


    "I came to say that I couldn''t finish all the windows in time. My classes are just about to start, and I promised that I wouldn¡¯t be late again. So... I thought maybe I¡¯d come back later in the evening to finish up?¡±


    My stomach knotted as I spoke, my eyes focused on the floor, not daring to meet his gaze as I announced my failure. I carefully glanced up.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± he said thoughtfully as he looked me straight in the eyes.


    His face, completely stoic, ¡°Okay, you''re fired.¡±


    ¡°B-but sir - I need the money!¡± I stuttered in shock.


    <h6> ¡®He can''t fire me. He can''t! Where will I get the money?¡¯ </h6>


    ¡°You useless good-for-nothing! You can''t even do one simple job, and all you¡¯re thinking about is cash?!? Get the FUCK out of my sight!¡± His words pierced through me like needles.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, devoid of emotion. I trudged out of the room and closed the door behind me.


    The scene replayed in my mind as I walked back to the elevator. Pushing the button, I slumped against the wall and waited for it to arrive. I sighed, shifted my stance, tried to get comfortable, and sighed again. I had no energy to get upset; I was just tired.


    I hated working here anyway. I had found work because my dad wouldn¡¯t send me any money. He¡¯d spend it all on alcohol instead, so I worried about the future. I tried to make a path for myself by enrolling at a prestigious university for computer programming.


    It was an escape. I chose it to stare at a screen for hours on end, which would distract me from contemplating my pointless existence. Tears rolled down my cheek. I had told myself not to care anymore, not to feel anything, but deep down, it always hurt. My emotions burned within, desperation slowly creeping up on me - I wanted this to end.


    My eyes locked onto an open window close by, with only one thing in mind. I wanted to be free of my damned existence. The feeling of anger, sadness, emptiness, and loneliness all collided inside my already overloaded head. One aim slowly burned into my mind. My body resisted at first, as the instinct for self-preservation would give pause for most living creatures. But soon, the pain would end. I would correct the mistake. An insignificant drop in the ocean would disappear, but nothing would change.


    <h6> ''It''ll all be over.''</h6>


    I ran towards the opening, kicked off from the frame, and propelled myself into the air.


    The wind blew through my hair as gravity finally took hold. I closed my eyes in satisfaction, and a smile formed across my face as the screams echoing from above faded away.

 Familiar Stranger

    Sarah stared into the mirror. Her tired, hazel eyes gazed back as she frowned.  She hadn''t slept in days. Dark shadows were apparent under her puffy eyes. Her skin was blotchy despite her best makeup skills. It had been a week since her breakup with Jamie, and she had only stopped crying today. She needed to get over him, but the pain still raged inside.


    She still didn¡¯t believe it was real; it had to be a nightmare. If she were to call, he would answer with his usual seductive reply, smooth and full of confidence and without a twinge of regret. She picked up her phone. His picture was still her wallpaper - handsome. Yet his face only triggered revulsion when she thought about him. Looking at Jamie, the emotions began welling up again. She bit her lip to stop the tears. She shouldn¡¯t be crying now, not for that bastard. It would just give him satisfaction. The emotions roiled within her, turbulent and fighting for dominance. Her pride slowly worn out.


    <h6>''How dare he do this to me, of all people? And with a blonde skank that looks like a ten-dollar whore? What are other people going to say when they find out? Why do this when I¡¯m so much better than her!?''</h6>


    She glanced at the notifications - seventy missed calls. Swiping through, of course, none of them from him. She had loved him. She had assumed he thought of her as someone special, at least. But in the end, he cheated. She¡¯d wondered what would''ve been if she had been a few hours late that day and not witnessed his unfaithfulness. They could have retained their status as a power couple - before she knew he was a bastard. He was just as popular as her, yet he dared to disturb that delicate balance by allowing his little guy to dictate his life.


    He had rarely called. Sarah always had to call first, to be the one to suggest they go somewhere, and usually the one taking charge. There was nothing wrong with that, but she knew he wasn¡¯t putting as much effort as she was into the relationship. He seemed barely interested in her, but she couldn¡¯t leave him even though they came together on shallow grounds.


    She decided not even to confront him since he showed no remorse. Instead, the bastard smiled.


    Sarah couldn''t understand it. Her phone flashed another new message, from Mia, her Japanese-American friend and only genuine friend amongst her many acquaintances.


    Mia wanted her to come over, probably to cheer her up, but she didn''t want to cheer up. She wanted to be mad, to channel her rage into a revenge plan as some kind of cathartic measure to process the event. Her phone rang - Mia. She didn''t answer. The ringing lasted for about two minutes before dying down - Finally. Just as the soothing silence was about to set in - the phone rang again, piercing sharply through the silence. Frustrated, she answered.


    "Hey, didn''t you get my message?" Mia¡¯s soft, concerned voice coming over the speaker.


    ¡°Sorry, I was in the bathroom." She lied.


    ¡°Sarah, I know you were not,¡± Mia said, smiling; Sarah sighed as she could practically see Mia¡¯s smile as she paused.


    "I heard what happened between you and Jamie. You must be down right now;  I want you to come over and chill, to take your mind off things. Ice cream and a dorky movie, come on over. I''m not taking no for an answer."


    Sarah¡¯s eyes rolled hard as she heard those words. There was no way out now. If she refused, Mia would drive down to the campus to pick her up.


    ¡°Fine, I''ll be there in ten,¡± Sarah replied grudgingly.


    "Yay! I''ll be expecting you, see you in thirty minutes, haha!" Mia said gleefully and hung up.


    She reluctantly got up from the bed she had been lying down on - her eyes lingered on the bed, the depression of her body against the soft foam. Strangely, it reminded her of Jamie. She shook her head and hastily undressed and walked into the bathroom.


    The bathroom tiles were cold. She closed the door, walked into the shower, closed the doors, and turned the nozzle - letting the cold water warm up. She let the water slowly drizzle a bit. She felt with her hand; it was warm now. She turned the nozzle a little further, changing the drizzle into a stream. She closed her eyes and tried to collect her thoughts. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The wave of warm water flowed through her hair and down over her body. Fifteen minutes later, she turned off the shower and walked out. A breather was what she needed. She would never say it out loud, but she preferred shaking her hair like the way dogs did when it was wet - No one saw her here. Even if someone did, they wouldn¡¯t believe it.


    After she was done with that, she grabbed two towels from a cabinet. One that she dried off the rest of the water in her hair, the other towel she wrapped it tightly around herself.


    Her breather complete, she walked out of the bathroom.


    Just outside the room, to the left, stood a bright blue wardrobe. She approached it and opened it, thinking,


    <h6>''It''s Mia''s place, no need for something special - just something casual, something simple.¡¯</h6>


    Looking inside, she quickly picked out a white top and a pair of jeans - fighting her urge to go through another couple of cute outfits, she placed her clothes on the bed.


    She ditched the bra and just wore the semi-transparent top that left little for the imagination. Admiring herself in a mirror, she sighed. So much for being simple. Beautiful, hot, sexy. She had heard those words from so many guys, many times.


    <h6>''And yet that bastard had the nerve.''</h6>


    "Ugh!", She exclaimed in a fury.


    Her tight jeans hugged her body, showing off her curves. Even while wearing ''simple'' clothes, she was too eye-catching. She picked up her phone and opened the Uber app. Her parents forced her to become an Uber driver, telling her it would help her understand the value of money. She didn''t want to do any pickups today, so she froze the app and decided she¡¯d take a shortcut to Mia''s house.


    She walked out of her private apartment that was on campus and locked her door. She turned around. She took in the stunning sight as she walked. The university''s environment was nothing short of breathtaking. No matter how many times she saw it, it would always amaze her. She dashed towards the main gate that led outside the university.


    Walking by the large magnificent faculty buildings distanced evenly from each other, the strategically placed plant life, giving the place a glow of life and the orderly way students and teachers moved within this institution. She usually strolled here to bask in the affection of her male admirers, but now her mind was way too clouded.


    The gate appeared before her - finally. Her car was parked right outside the campus. She slotted in her keys and stared briefly at the handle before getting into the car and settling. She texted Mia, telling her she was on her way, laid back her head, pushed her foot against the pedal, and drove off.


    <h6>''Damn! I forgot to take a permit - it''s okay, the registrar will overlook it as long as I hit him with my killer smile.''</h6>


    She thought satisfactorily. She needed a chill pill, or she would just scream. Her fingers curled tensely around the steering.


    She imagined him, the look on his face when Jamie received sweet payback for what he''d done when he lost something he loved, and she disgraced him in public. A smile formed unknowingly on her face. But there was a slight problem of how to get back at him, fucking another guy wouldn''t work with him, he couldn''t care less; she knew. It had to be something he cared about.


    <h6>''But what?''</h6>


    She focused on the road; Mia lived in the city and not even in the residential area. All around were skyscrapers, either of some well-known brands or successful upstarts. She saw so many of them pass by she was already numb to it. The shortcut was just around the corner, and Another random skyscraper came into view. She looked at it and looked away,  not giving it a second thought.


    Suddenly, a loud bang resonated from above. Her body instinctively ducked and swerved and slammed into the door as the car skidded off the road to make an abrupt halt. Her eyesight dizzied, and her ears were ringing, and her head pounded in pain - She was disoriented. She made out a distant voice, but she couldn''t understand what it was saying. She tried harder to listen and filtered the ringing in her head. The voice became more explicit.


    "Miss, miss!!" his voice rang out.


    She tried to figure out which direction the voice came from.


    "Are you okay?" his voice asked.


    "Yeah, but vision¡¯s blurry, and I feel dizzy." She managed to reply.


    "Take my hand,¡± he said after opening the door.


    She stretched out her hand and felt a hand clasped hers.


    "Here''s some aspirin and water before the ambulance arrives. Let me find you a chair." The driver said, placing a bottle of water in one hand and the tablets in her other hand.


    She just nodded in response. They soon made her sit down on the chair.  There were voices of people around. Her vision slowly resolved after she took the pills.


    The accident scene became clearer. There was someone covered in blood on the top of the car at a skewed angle. Nausea first hit her at the sight of blood, but her curiosity pulled through. She couldn''t see his face. She got up from her seat to inspect. Her vision still wasn''t pristine; She squinted to get a better image.


    Her heart trembled, she was utterly horrified, her body convulsed, her reaction, her expression, it meant only one thing - she knew him.

 The Quiet Guy

    Mia waited on her pink couch in anticipation. On the table before her stood two large cartons of popcorn, an opened bag of chips, and a box with a large steaming hot pizza which was growing colder by the minute.


    ¡°She¡¯s supposed to be here by now!¡±, Mia complained.


    It had been over an hour now, and Sarah hadn¡¯t arrived. This wasn¡¯t the usual case of fashionably late. Mia picked up her phone and dialed her number.


    ¡°Hello.¡± Sarah¡¯s dryly said on the other end.


    ¡°Where are you!?¡± Mia questioned, fuming. ¡°I¡¯m coming over right now!¡±


    Her temper made her jabber.


    ¡°I¡¯m at the hospital¡±, Sarah replied, putting an abrupt stop to Mia¡¯s small tantrum; Mia felt a tinge of guilt over her overreaction.


    ¡°Hospital!? I¡¯m- I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Mia¡¯s tone suddenly changed to concern and worry. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°I was involved in an accident, I think? Something collided with the hood of our car on my way to your house. I think- I think I know-¡±, Sarah replied with a dulled reaction, still in shock.


    ¡°Oh my God, are you okay?¡± Mia¡¯s worry increased. Her cozy mood was ruined, and she kicked off her bunny slippers, which collided with the wall with a thud.


    "I¡¯m fine... I think? Someone got me out of the car- I hit my head trying to get out of the car- I had a slight headache. He gave me a bag of ice. It¡¯ll probably mean a few bruises...", Sarah tried to calm Mia on the other end of the phone.


    "Why are you there then?", She asked.


    "Look, Mia. There was a body- we took him to the hospital. I¡¯m not sure if he was dead. I-I think I recognized him.", Sarah replied.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right there!¡± Mia declared as she stuffed the phone into a pocket, scrambled for her car keys, then dashed outside her apartment without locking it.


    As soon as her feet touched down outside on the rough warm concrete floor, she felt a strange sensation - shoes! She''d forgotten to wear them in the rush. She ran back inside, jumped into one boot, and shuffled towards her car. She put on the second boot. She missed the keyhole a few times - click. She flung open the car door and threw herself into the driver''s seat.


    ¡°Sarah, I¡¯m on the way there, right now! Hello, are you there?¡±


    Steadying her hand, she stabbed the car keys into the ignition. ''Why did the call drop? Is she okay?'' Mia''s thoughts went frantic.


    "Wait! Which hospital? Stupid! Stupid!" Mia said, hitting her head in disbelief.


    Mia tried to calm herself and dialed Sarah once more. A busy signal followed by a sign to leave a voicemail popped up. Mia took a deep breath. Her words flowed rapidly.


    ¡°Sarah, what hospital are you at now!? I¡¯ll try to go to the closest hospital! I¡¯m on my way!¡± Mia said as she pulled out of the driveway with one hand on the wheel and the other holding the phone to her ear.


    **************


    Officer Scott came down from his newly issued police car onto the scene. A car with a dented hood filled with blood and glass bits scattered around the foot of a building close by. He just got promoted from probationary police officer to regular officer, and they still assigned even yet minor cases to him. He met other police officers on the scene. He nodded quietly to them and ducked under the yellow line. He approached forensics on the scene.


    "Give me the rundown" He enjoyed the sound of it as he brought out a yellow legal pad.


    "Attempted suicide. Luckily he survived, but he''s probably in the ICU." "Jumped through the window of this building right here." He said gesturing to the building on the right with glass shards at its base.


    "From the last floor but by a stroke of luck this Uber car happened to pass by and break his fall or he''d be squashed on the concrete like tomato paste." The forensic said.


    "He''s one lucky ass bastard," Scott replied.


    "Yeah, turns out they fired him a few minutes before his attempt"


    "So he lost his job and went yeetus deletus," Scott said thoughtfully.


    "Sounds about right," The forensic officer said with a smile.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Has he been IDed yet?" Scott asked.


    "Yeah, he''s been Identified as an honors student in computer science of our very own prestigious university, high GPA too," The forensics replied


    "The brainy ones tend to have demons inside,", he said, jotting down all the relevant points. "And we still have to go through the trouble of investigating whether this wasn''t some kind of attempted homicide," Scott complained.


    "Even when it''s a suicide," The forensic chimed in.


    "Frustrating, but protocol is protocol" Officer Scott sighed. "Have a nice day." He said walking back to the car.


    "You too officer" the forensic replied.


    He got to his car, smiling. "Officer has a nice ring to it."


    **************


    Mia parked as her thought barely allowed her to focus on driving. She got out of the car hastily and ran through the hospital doors to the counter.


    "There was an incident, maybe just an hour now, maybe she was brought here, her name is Sarah Pike." Mia rambled in quick succession because of anxiety.


    "Calm down." The nurse pacified. "Let me have a look, Sarah Pike¡­" She said turning the registry.


    The tension and fear were built as she turned the pages.


    <h6>''What if she''s not here?''</h6>


    Mia thought in horror.


    "Yeah, Sarah Pike, she should be in the guest waiting room down the hall by your left."


    "Is she okay?" Mia''s heart palpitated.


    "She should be, according to her info when she was brought in. She might be with someone there," the nurse said, trying to assure her.


    "Thanks!" She flustered out and ran down the hall speedily and entered the room, her eyes darting around.


    "Where is she? Where is she?" Mia said as her eyes scanned the entire room.


    Finally, she noticed Sarah in a corner sitting in the waiting room trembling, her face was pale. She rushed over quickly to Sarah''s side.


    "Sarah, are you okay? Why didn''t you pick up?"


    "My phone died." She quietly replied, her eyes transfixed on the person on the bed.


    Mia traced Sarah''s line of sight and landed on the figure hooked up to life support being wheeled into the OR. Her eyes widened slowly due to realization as she got a better look at the person''s face.


    "Oh, my God! It''s the quiet guy."


    **************


    "Another bottle!" He hollered at the bartender. Nothing made sense anymore. His life was in pieces. The tension at his workplace caused by threats of being laid off which was due to his neighbors reporting him to the authorities for beating Julia.


    "Damned woman and that useless good-for-nothing kid!" He swore loudly.


    The bottle was placed before him and opened; he quickly poured himself another glass. He looked horrible - bloodshot eyes and haggard-looking, not leaving out the fact that he reeked of booze.


    He looked around. The ordered chaos, scattered lights of different colors made by unreasonably placed bulbs. It looked like his life - a big mess full of regret and broken dreams. A splitting headache assaulted him as he downed another glass, but he didn''t care and poured himself yet another glass. His vision became misty, then he decided he''s had enough. He got up and threw a wad of money at the bartender and began walking away.


    The bartender already used to his behavior smiled and picked up the money but for the sake of legality asked: "Sir your change?"


    "Keep it." He said - the expected answer and left the bar.


    He staggered across the street, the blaring of car horns and people yelling and the bright lights were all drowned and distant like a substance inspired fever dream. A ringing erupted from the distance, eclipsing the barrier of alcohol, and resonated in his mind.


    "Damn phone!!", he cursed and fished for it, his pocket became a deep endless sack, no matter how he reached in he could not find his phone.


    His fingers caressed the edges of it, he pulled it out and the ringing intensified. He threw it onto the road with all the strength he could muster, cracking the phone on impact before spinning down further down the road where it became crushed by a passing car.


    "Good riddance." He slurred and trudged along the gruesome path home.


    Somehow he made it to his doorstep. He pushed down the door handle - locked. Annoyance and rage built up, he bashed the doorbell in and pounded the door as the bell rang - No response; it fueled his anger, and he pounded harder. If he could break down the door he would, but it was made of reinforced steel. Soon enough he got tired of hitting the door and silence ensued.


    The door slowly opened before him, he knew it was Julia that opened the door, his hands shot upwards to hit her but froze in midair at what he saw. She was crying. She never cried anytime he hit her - not even once. Her eyes were puffy from the tears and the love buried by frustration and tears resurfaced.


    "Why are you crying?" He barked, but quieter.


    "The cops called, the New York police called." She sobbed.


    "The hospital called. Our son.. may have..." She had difficulty speaking, as the tears streamed down her face.


    "N-not another child." He whispered to himself, the beer bottle almost slipped from his grasp.


    "He''s still alive, but h-his body¡­" She stuttered after composing her thoughts.


    "This is not happening!" the father cried and threw the beer bottle into the ground. "Not again!"


    He dropped to his knees as if his anger and frustration could snap him out completely from his drunken state. His body trembled as the realization of another dead child sobered him up to pain. It couldn''t be happening - not again. But the fact only sunk further, he Insulted and abused his son and neglected him when he needed someone he was never a good father. Hot tears rushed down and his head sunk low. He couldn''t find it in himself to look Julia in the eye, knowing he had failed their son.


    She pulled him up and embraced him.


    "He''s in the ICU." She said, "Doctors are not confident he will pull through."


    ¡°No. He will pull through. He has to pull through.¡± He went for the second bottle in his hand.


    She stopped him "You can''t drown your sorrows with a bottle forever."


    His eyes locked onto hers, his pupils shaking.


    "I¡­ you''re right," He said and emptied the contents down the drain.


    She cried and embraced him more tightly as they shared tears.

 Dreams Of Pain

    A horn echoed in the distance. A voice played over the blaring horns accompanied by high pitched ringing.


    "What are you doing? You''re gonna be late for..." The voice drowned out into incomprehensible mutters.


    The voice sounded familiar, a voice I had heard often. The memory of the voice''s owner was fleeting as the wind, I could feel it but not grasp it. Words escaped my mouth, I had no control over them.


    "Another gruesome day awaits".


    My memory was trying to recollect where I''d heard that before. I felt like a passenger as I was whisked slowly away from my currently blurred surroundings, I could only see my legs moving but I wasn''t moving them. The light in the surroundings suddenly intensified, but it only brightened the blurry image surroundings. If anything, it became harder to see. The brightness suddenly dimmed again, I  smelled gasoline faintly, and I heard more indistinct chatter. The legs moved further before stopping. I could slightly feel motion, but I looked down at the legs and they weren''t moving.


    <h6>''Follow follow follow''</h6>


    Further indistinct chatter rose, I could faintly hear the soft purr of an engine almost drowned out by all the chatter. The surroundings soon started to slowly resolve, I noticed the colors became clearer. The legs soon moved once more, and I could already minutely perceive shapes and forms. Some dialogue filtered into my ears.


    " How''s it going¡­" They were still fading.


    I felt a familiar weight pulling on my shoulders. Pieces formed, I could already make out the floor along with other people''s feet. I was on some kind of pavement, I still had no control of my legs. I then noticed them climbing onto an elevated flooring which was vastly different in contrast to the concrete pavement - it was tiled. ''White tiles?'' Realization slowly dawned upon me and horror engulfed me as the memories came rushing back. The environment suddenly cleared up faster as my breathing hastened - I was back at highschool!


    <h6>''No! Not this place, why am I back here?''</h6>


    I was terrified and confused. The hallway lighting, the bright awful lights, the echoes of many people talking. So many people around me, but as usual, I was alone.


    "Move out of the way, weirdo!" A feminine voice came from behind.


    She wasn''t even pretty; she was average at best, with faint freckles. Yet she also treated me like the rest of them. I was standing still at the entrance.


    "Oh, I''m sorry," I said and moved aside.


    "Ugh! save it." She said and walked away proudly.


    I sighed as I looked around. It was high school alright. I remembered the pain of this period of my life. I dragged my feet across to the notice board - I couldn''t remember my class schedule. I looked at the board and my eyes rested on the first subject of the day, the other subject looked like they were there but I couldn''t make any sense of it no matter how hard I tried.


    <h6>''Oh, joy, Physical Education aka gym class aka class of torture.''</h6>


    I groaned inwardly. Why today, of all days? I reluctantly walked towards the locker room. It reeked of sweat and fungi.


    <h6>''When was the last time they cleaned this place?''. </h6>


    The odor seriously offended my nose, it was so thick, I could almost taste it, which nauseated me instantly. It was a mandatory class or I would have quit a long time ago, only the athletic shine here, those who aren''t are kicked to the curb. Such a wonderful and cozy curb where I can feel safe, trash belongs in the trashcan and thus I belong.


    <h6>''Ringing, a bell, bells, colors¡­ pain!!''</h6>


    I would never dare to wear the gym clothes provided by the school. I had a pair I bought myself. Don''t misread me, I once saw a guy nutting into the basket where the clothes are kept - disgusting! I was very sure that it wasn''t the first time. I would have told the others but they would never listen to me so instead I bought my clothes.


    I walked into the sports room, basically the indoor basketball court used for other indoor activities like the dreaded Dodgeball. I stood in the corner waiting for my demise, silently hoping I wouldn''t be noticed.  Students lined up in rows on both sides of the court. One side filled with the weak and scrawny ones and the others filled with meatheads. It was a massacre, the strong preying on the weak. I tried very hard not to be noticed.


    "Hey! You! Line up with them!" the coach ordered. Whispers arose once more.


    <h6>''Lights¡­Metal¡­Flesh''</h6>


    He didn''t even know my name. I sauntered across the court to the other end. I joined the row of death. I heard snickers from the other side, obviously preparing themselves to bolster their over-inflated egos by hurting others. A bucket full of balls of death stood before me, it was filled with soccer balls instead. The others went ahead and took the balls and returned to the row. There was no hope of leaving here without bruises.


    Everything suddenly slowed down. The coach''s hand slowly reached for the whistle. I looked at the people on my side; they were cowering in fear. All the boys on the other side smiled in anticipation.


    The teacher sucked in a deep breath and held the whistle to his mouth. The sharp shrill noise that followed signaled our demise.


    Balls flew at speeds dangerous to my weak constitution, I heard pained cries on both sides. Suddenly my heart skipped - A ball was heading towards me. I tried hard to move but my feet were glued to the floor; the ball headed towards my face with unstoppable momentum; I was powerless to resist. It smashed into my face, breaking my nose instantly, and left the metal taste of blood in my mouth. I was dazed instantly, my vision blurred, I could hear the mocking laughter through my ringing ears. Anger rose inside me, anger from all the years I was mistreated and insulted that I accepted it without resistance. My body trembled with rage.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    <h6>''Kill¡­. Pain¡­ Revenge¡­ Windows.''</h6>


    A sharp pain assaulted my head and those strange voices appeared. The surroundings suddenly warped, becoming nothing but a flurry of colors.


    <h6>''Pain! Pain!! Pain!!!''</h6>


    "No! Leave me alone!" I covered my ears screaming. It rocked back and forth, coming with greater intensity. Suddenly, I heard no more. I looked around, no one seemed to hear the voices, even my outbursts just now, their eyes were all focused unnaturally away from me.


    <h6>''What the hell is going on?''</h6>


    I took another glance at all of them before picking up the inconspicuous looking ball, my gaze set upon the one that broke my nose, I noticed he was looking at someone else. I took the advantage and threw the ball with all the enraged strength I could muster. It flew towards him in a cyclic path. I looked at it silently as it carried all my frustrations towards him.


    <h6>''It¡¯s going to hit its mark, it will hit''</h6>


    But despair filled my heart as a hand rose and caught the ball squarely. It didn''t matter how hard I tried,  no matter the effort I put in, it would amount to nothing. Nothing can come from nothing - it was the gruesome truth I realized as the dodgeball came hurling towards my stomach and sent me reeling to the floor. They wouldn''t have mercy at my condition, instead, they launched more projectiles towards me, inflicting injury after injury while the coach idly stood by as they pelted me.


    <h6>''Glass, Glass, Shatter, GLASS!!!''</h6>


    Whispers echoed in my head and my environment suddenly warped violently. There was ringing somewhere...


    I was in pain but no one cared, not even the ones on my side. Why would they care anyway? I''m just an insignificant nobody. Hot tears flowed from my eyes as I cried in the realization of my worthlessness. After thirty more minutes of pain, gym class ended. I could barely move and no one bothered to help me out. It was an uphill struggle to get up. My body ached all over, but they were nothing compared to the painful realization of my nothingness. I was hurting inside and outside, but the pain hadn''t ended. I went back to the locker room with my body aching all over, I suddenly felt a chill as I stepped through the door.


    I looked forward, and a group of about six people stood before me.


    <h6>''This is a setup.''</h6>


    I looked around the room; it was empty.


    <h6>''Looks like they put in some work''</h6>


    "What do you want?" I asked, breathing exhaustion through my words.


    "Well, aren''t you a cocky little bloke, having the balls to throwback, it almost hit me," He said with a wicked grin, I couldn''t bother to describe his features. Fiery chestnut hair was all I could remember.


    They surrounded me quickly. I couldn''t even be bothered to find an escape route.


    "What do you gain from all of this, to fill up your over-inflated egos, why waste your time on something so meaningless," I said with a sigh.


    "To teach losers like you to learn their place," He said, cracking his fingers.


    They closed in on me and sealed my fate, suddenly mixing into the surroundings. No shape, no forms, only a mixture of colors. A fist suddenly materialized, flying towards me, I instinctively tried to evade instead, I was greeted with a blow from my behind; They held me down immediately. The chestnut-haired ringleader suddenly flashed in the color riot with a disembodied fist forming, smashing into my face, sending my sight into disarray.


    I refused to cry, I couldn''t give them what they wanted. A kick landed in my stomach and my body went limp, my nether region wasn''t spared as he raised his knee-high into it, my body shook violently from the pain, I was on the precipice of losing consciousness, tears that I held back in were threatening to burst forth. They battered me from all angles. I tried to shield my face with my arm, but it got kicked into my mouth, dislodging a tooth. Until my breath became ragged and I was thoroughly bruised did they walk away in laughter.


    <h6>''Despair, Dead dead dead!!! DEAD!!!'' </h6>


    The whispering voice screamed. Everything rattled violently.


    <h6>''You''re dead! Killed by the lights''</h6>


    It died down again, everything immediately still.


    ''I can''t go there, not again!''


    I thought as my breath seized, contemplating it. I couldn''t risk it, I limped towards the classroom trying very hard to conceal the pain I was experiencing. Everywhere hurt, all my body parts were pelted, even the gray area was not left out. I winced as I sat down as a groan forcefully escaped me, but I quieted it down immediately. I couldn''t concentrate on the lesson, I was busy trying to deal with the raging pain. It was better than going there - I couldn''t; I had to avoid there at all costs.


    <h6>''Just endure it for now and tend to the injuries at home'' </h6>


    My face was bruised like a peach, I put my head down to avoid attention. I brought out the notebook for class. The pain wouldn''t let me concentrate, so I skipped to the back page and doodled all sorts of oblong and dimensionless monstrosities. I heard my name being called.


    "Huh", I said confused as I noticed the entire class staring at me, I could hear suppressed laughter.


    "It seems to me, you''re not following,", The scruffy-looking teacher said.


    "What? No!", I lied immediately.


    "Then why don''t you come up here and answer the question on the board."He said, looking me in the eye.


    I didn''t listen at all in class but I had already lied; I felt like I had to go forward. I stood up, my body slightly quivered, not in fright but at the excruciating pain, the process of getting up caused me. My sight rested at my feet. If I looked up now, I would expose my bluish pink face. I painstakingly avoided classmates¡¯ noticing. Not like they''d care. I just couldn''t go back there. I was so lost in thought that I didn''t notice someone had set his leg to trip me and I readily but unknowingly tripped over it.


    <h6>''Running¡­ run¡­. RUN! Time is RUN!!''</h6>


    They sent me sprawling to the ground, evoking treacherous pain all over my body, I wriggled and twitched on the floor in pain, I couldn''t even groan it was overwhelming. My teeth clenched, I curled up into a ball as the pain assaulted my senses. Everything drowned out. Sounds seemed to come from all sides, but I comprehended none.


    In the myriad of incoherent sounds, grave words erupted.


    "Take him to the school nurse"


    <h6>''No, no!!!, please no!!''</h6>


    I attempted to scream, but my mouth was sealed shut, the pain overwhelmed my mind as everything slowly faded away.

 Dreams Of Pain II

    Cold, devoid of heat - I felt cold. My nose was invaded with a strong antiseptic odor and my heart froze. There was a pain in my ribs, the pain one felt when your chest was pressed against a hard surface for an extended period. It made it hard to breathe.


    <h6>''Never stops, endless pain''</h6>


    The voice whispered.


    I felt the cuffing on my hands and feet and utter despair set in; I realized where I was. I opened my eyes and the dreadful white walls stared at me, causing my heart to quiver.


    The draft from the air-conditioning blew against my bare rear. My eyes opened wide.


    "No! no!" I screamed as tears rushed furiously. "Please, no! God no!!"


    <h5>''He''s coming, coming, no hope, soap!''</h5>


    It grew loud again and quieted.


    I struggled, it was hopeless, but I didn''t care. The sound of a door opening petrified me, I struggled more frantically. I cried and screamed, but no one heard, no one ever heard.


    "Why struggle? There''s no escape" the voice behind me said. It was deep and sinister, a memory that I shut out.


    "I swear I¡¯ll kill you one day!" I screamed as hot tears flowed down my face, mixing with the snot running down my nose.


    "You bastard!" I enraged him.


    The walls suddenly ripped themselves apart and endless darkness remained.


    A force slammed my head into the table, dazing me instantly. I heard zippers furiously undoing, and I struggled against my restraints.


    I felt a needle pierce my arm and my body and my body lost energy, going numb, despondency set in.  A sharp pain rapidly invaded my behind. Bitter tears rolled down my cheeks as I was being violated.


    <h6>''Why did I come to this world?''</h6>


    My vision went grey before fading to black.


    ¡°Bloody oaf!!¡± A voice thundered.


    A sharp pain ripped through my chest, fading slowly. Something hit me. Just as it disappeared, it hit me again with greater force, air was squeezed out of my lungs. My eyes shot open. A man stood before me; disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, and ragged clothes with a worn-out sleeping bag in his armpits; the frayed grey threads at the edges threatening to snap at the slightest mishandling and the unmistakable stench of booze. There was a disturbing bright glare coming from above and his figure was in its midst and darkness abounded in the distance. It was night. An icy wind blew against my body, eliciting an instant shiver - then it dawned on me. I was kicked out again by my father, a common occurrence when he was drunk, and honestly, I preferred it this way.


    If I stayed inside, that would mean dealing with his screaming and hollering. I stood up. My cognition was still slightly muddled from sleep.


    ¡°Oh, hey,¡± I said, blankly.


    <h6>¡®Where did I end up today?¡¯</h6>


    ¡°Get off my bench!!! Fucking little bugger!¡± He bellowed, his arm shot towards me and I stumbled away quickly from the street bench, allowing his fist to crash into the bench instead. I bolted into the street, my legs numb from sleep springing to life.


    <h6>''Go! Come? Run!''</h6>


    The whispers arose once more


    I never looked back, only going forward, my surroundings blurred around me. I finally stopped when my lungs burned with agonizing ferocity with each drawn breath. Panting, with my hands on my knees, I looked around.


    A large dark green garbage disposal stood a few meters from me, grossly overfilled with extra garbage bags lying all around it. It sandwiched around trash between two dull red apartment buildings. The glow from lonely street lights bled into the space between the buildings.


    I didn¡¯t recognize this place, nothing even had a vague resemblance to where I¡¯ve once been.


    <h6>¡®How far did I run?¡¯</h6>


    I paused, then realized that there was no way of finding my way home at this time of the night. I stood on my toes to get a view of behind the disposal, the crazy thought of sleeping behind it had formed in my imagination. Strangely, as I imagined the space behind it was spotless, save for the abundance of neatly arranged garbage bags in the corner. With a searing pain that reminded me of previous bodily trauma, I leaped over, landed on the other side. One leg gave way under the pain and I fell to the ground.


    I sighed and sat down on the ground right beside the bags, resting my back against the dumpster. I was either hallucinating or dreaming because no offensive odor graced my nose even when I was directly in contact with ¡®garbage¡¯.


    <h6>¡®Maybe I don¡¯t smell it because I¡¯m just like them, ¡¯</h6>


    I humored in thought, way too tired to consider other possibilities. Drowsiness had steadily crept in and soon my body huddled together in slumber. My body had eased up as the cold gust roared past.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    <h6>''No sleep, not done! Wake wake up!!!''</h6>


    A loud bang suddenly erupted! My body agitated in fright. I tried to make sense of the situation in my blear vision. Two figures, one towering over the other, stood then the smaller one slumped to the ground, a thick viscous liquid spreading across the floor. The other figure slid something inside its coat and opened a door, probably a fire exit,  I had not noticed and entered the apartment building briskly. Whoever it was didn¡¯t seem to notice me, must have mistaken me for one of the trash bags.


    It didn¡¯t require Einstein to figure out what just occurred. I had just witnessed a murder! I froze, not making a single sound until I heard the door slam shut. Terrified to the bone, I enclosed my mouth with my hand, fearful of emitting any sound. A long while passed as I stared at the body, the moment recurring incessantly. The blood puddle had slowly enlarged, creating dark splotches on the figure¡¯s clothing.


    ''River of red, falling despair, river of red...''


    I finally summoned the courage to check out the body. The moon was high in the sky tonight, creating a visceral glow over the body. My vision landed on the body and my heart skipped in terror, my stomach suddenly frosty. Hot liquid flowed out of my nose, scorching as I regurgitated my lunch onto the floor.


    <h6>''Miquel Chan!''</h6>


    He was the kid that stood beside me in gym class. Ashen faced, square jaw and roman lips with silver bobbed hair and now in between rested a deep gaping bullet hole. I still remembered his listless look as we awaited our massacre. Even now his expression was the same, listless.


    Indignation welled inside me. It just wasn¡¯t fair, if anyone deserved to die it should have been me. Unlike me, he had potential, his computational skills were overwhelming and never ceased to amaze me in class. Now it was gone, forever. My gaze settled on the door the killer had passed through, I reached into my pocket for my phone-I¡¯d left it home.


    <h6>¡®Fuck¡¯</h6>


    An image snapped into my mind, and I reached my hands into his trouser pockets. My fingers met with a familiar smooth obstruction, my fingers gripped around its flat surface and pulled it out. I hoped as I turned it on that it would be one of those models that didn¡¯t need to be unlocked to access the camera.


    <h6>¡®Bingo!¡¯</h6>


    It was. I checked the night quality - pristine, at least way better than mine. Fear gripped me as I contemplated what I was about to do. Rage welled up in me once more and I steeled my resolve. Drawing in breath, I arose and walked towards the fire exit door. Placing my ear next to the door, I quietly listened. A furious pound erupted, startling me. I removed my head from the door in fright. It ensued again in spasmodic bursts.


    It sounded like punching, I could faintly hear grunts along with each pound. Those grunts¡­ something about them was familiar. Somewhere buried deep in the etches of reminiscence. I immediately grasped it and my stomach sunk lower, caressing the edges of the abyss. It was that¡­


    <h6>¡®That bastard!!¡¯</h6>


    I always suspected I wasn¡¯t the only one he laid his filthy hands on others. I dialed back my temper and waited. The batter ceased. I ambled towards the rusted iron door. For a moment there was a wide seemingly insurmountable chasm I had to cross and every time I stared into it my worst nightmares would emerge, devouring me instantly. I set the camera to record and pushed down the handle slowly.


    My pupils painfully constricted as the intensity of light exploded. I opened the door ever so slightly, afraid of possibly alerting the beast that lurked within. I had to face my fears, even so, it terrified every fiber of my being. Tension in my chest restricted my breathing, reducing it to silent gasps. The door was finally wide open. Behind lay all the interconnecting stairways, illuminated with the old incandescent pale orange light bulbs. Then my eyes landed on him, his back rather. His back faced me; a thick black leather coat


    <h6>¡®How cliche¡¯</h6>


    I set the camera to record, but there was no way I¡¯d record him without his notice, so only the audio would suffice. I had also secretly dialed 911 and keyed in the special numbers I learned at summer camp to alert the police silently. There was no going back now.


    ''No!! Don''t, Metal! Hot!, Flames!''


    The voice cried.


    I shut it out and called out his full name in a clear voice.


    ¡°Mr. Bo Samuels¡±


    He flinched and stopped his pounding, his object of torture obscured by his enormous body, and turned around slowly, his hand reaching into his coat. Our eyes finally met.  I noticed his tense posture had eased up when he saw me. He was afraid in the slightest. A grin slowly formed on his face, followed by a quiet sneer. He had even refrained his hands from the inside of his coat.


    ¡°You killed Miquel Chan! I saw you¡± I blurted in pretense accusation.


    ¡°Yes I did, what are you going to do about it? The truth of the matter is, soon, you¡¯re going to join him,¡± He laughed with a deep scowl.


    My body trembled and swayed feverishly.


    ¡°Let me guess, you¡¯re probably here to threaten me with your so-called witnessing of the event, or better yet you¡¯re recording this conversation right now, am I right?¡± He laid strong emphasis on the word¡¯ conversation, which seemed to directly assault me.


    I gulped, hoping he hadn¡¯t figured out the rest already.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make you an offer based on our special relationship together, drop the recording device you have on you and I¡¯ll let you walk away from all this, hell maybe I would finally leave you,¡± He said, his expression smug.


    <h6>¡®Bullshit!!!¡¯</h6>


    I lowered my head to convince him I was contemplating the lies he was feeding me. A beep erupted from the device in my pocket, I fished out the device from my pocket, glanced at it with feigned reluctance, and finally stretched my hands forward. His smug expression morphed into a wicked grin as he reached to collect the phone.


    I suddenly retracted my hand. A murderous glint flashed through his eyes.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked, my voice shaking. I heard a faint movement coming from behind.


    ¡°Do you have another choice?¡±


    I smiled and stared him down.


    <h6>¡®It¡¯s over for you, devil¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡°Yes¡±. I said as the police sirens suddenly rendered the air.</h6>


    His eyes opened wide in disbelief. He stared at my face, hatred seeping through his gaze, and lunged toward me. A violent burst of pain ripped through my head as the surrounding space got sucked into infinitesimal nothingness.

 Guilt

    She remembered him. He had this mysteriousness about him, impossible to predict, always aloof about his surroundings. They had first bumped into each other during orientation.


    ¡°Hey! Watch where you¡¯re going!!¡± She shoved him.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± He said lifelessly. ¡°My head¡¯s in the clouds again, always trying to escape from the shackles of my existence¡±.


    He flashed a short, uneasy smile and walked away briskly.


    It left something in her, she couldn¡¯t tell what it was. The way he talked? His body language? There was just something about him that left an impression. They¡¯d met a few other times because as it ¡®conveniently¡¯ happens, he studies under the same faculty. Their eyes would lock for a few seconds before he would seem to recall something, then walk away coldly. And there was the inexplicable feeling she felt each time. You wouldn¡¯t call it love or attraction, that simply wasn¡¯t it. It was novel to her and no matter how hard she tried to understand it, she just couldn¡¯t.


    Of course, she shared this with Mia, and her not knowing his name led them to tag him ¡®the quiet guy¡¯ in their conversations about him. She had eventually approached him head-on, wanting to clear up whatever that feeling was.


    ¡°Hey¡± She had called out to him as he walked down the corridor. At the time, they were in the second building belonging to the Faculty of Science.


    He stopped in his tracks, the resounding echo of footsteps abruptly ceasing. He looked so imaginary like he would fade away the moment if she turned her eyes away for just a second. He turned, his gaze seemed to bore into her soul leaving no stone unturned but something fatigued his expression like he was constantly exhausted. He became startled as soon as he recognized her and turned to leave.


    ¡°Hey stop!¡± She called, her voice reverberating around the walls.


    ¡°Why?¡± She finally heard him say in an almost whisper.


    ¡°What?¡± it confused her


    ¡®Why what?¡¯


    ¡°Why are you talking to someone like me? I¡¯m a nobody,¡±. He whispered again.


    She was taken aback.


    <h6>¡®Why¡¯</h6>


    Her thoughts had flashed on her lifestyle then. Truly, in her context, he was a nobody. Apart from their encounters, she¡¯d only seen him at presentations where attendance was compulsory. They lived in different worlds. People surrounded and liked her, and he was avoided and shunned. A barrier though it was subtle, it still existed. And yet there she had broken the barrier to approach him.


    <h6>¡®Why?¡¯</h6>


    She lowered her head, her mind racing for answers, but by the time she looked up, he was gone, almost as if she¡¯d imagined him.


    She shook her vigorously to dispel her thoughts.


    It was now the day after the accident and he laid comatose in the hospital. And since then thoughts of him crept up constantly like a never-ending dream. She was walking down her usual route to her class. The university had offered her leave to recuperate from the trauma, but she vehemently refused. Weakening her status further was not an option.


    She had headphones on, blaring her favorite tunes to distract her from thinking about him, but it was of no use. The music had turned into background noise. She forcefully shifted her thoughts of him to the revenge plan on Jamie. Up till now, Nothing.


    <h6>¡®There has to be someway¡¯</h6>


    The class building came into sight with a flurry of students entering. She took off her headphones. How was she going to handle it, their looks of pity and sympathy? some would be happy, happy at her misfortune.


    ¡°Just ignore, Sarah,¡± She told herself


    A distant voice rang from behind.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°Sarah!¡±


    She cringed instantly and dashed towards the class building, hoping she would make it and avoid being pulled into a conversation with him. Some people wouldn¡¯t take the hint. Even when he knew she was dating someone else, he still insisted. Her body froze as a palm grabbed her shoulder from behind.


    ¡°I was¡­ yelling¡­ your¡­. name¡­. Didn¡¯t you hear?¡±. Hot breath being forced through his mouth in rapid bursts.


    ¡°Get your hands off me, Allen Horton¡± She stressed the last two words without turning back.


    ¡°Spelling out my full name? Mama must be mad,¡± He teased with a chuckle and removed his hand.


    ¡°What do you want? My class is about to start, ¡± She said, detached. Irritation slowly rising.


    ¡°Calm down mama¡± He replied in his thick British accent.


    She finally turned to face him. Her heart fluttered a little as she gazed upon him. Jet black hair, glittering arctic blue eyes, a rare sight for ebony skin types. Saying he was God¡¯s gift to women would be a gross understatement.


    "I heard you were involved in an accident, came to see how you were holding up" His voice had dialed down, brimming with concern.


    She avoided staring into his eyes or risk becoming one of his numerous victims by his enchanting eyes. "As you can see, I''m holding up just fine." She replied curtly.


    He held her hands in his, taking her by surprise. Another ripple surfaced in her heart.


    "Are you sure?" He asked, rubbing her hands softly.


    Her thoughts conflicted at those words.


    <h6>¡®Am I sure?  Can I be sure?  What¡¯s stopping me?¡¯</h6>


    The heat from his hands seared all the way to her toes and her whole body tingled with electric desire.


    ¡®What about love?¡¯


    A decision slowly took root in her mind. She looked into his beautiful eyes but she wasn¡¯t enthralled. Only pity existed in her heart now, pity for what she was going to do. So nice, caring, and not forgetting he was smitten with her but he was about to become nothing but a vent for the frustrations she¡¯d bottled up.


    She stepped forward and embraced him, his body flinched slightly in surprise before accommodating her. She took in his deep masculine scent and let go.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I can attend classes today,¡± She said nestling deep into his embrace.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, which hostel do you stay in?¡±


    ¡°I live in the area of the private apartment¡± She muttered softly.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go then, don¡¯t worry I¡¯ll get someone to do your notes,¡± He said softly, pulling her gently away from his embrace, his eyes never leaving hers and they walked together towards her apartment hand in hand.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Sarah said as her crib came into view.


    ¡°Guess, this is where part ways,¡± He said unhappily, his hand gripping hers tighter.


    ¡°Guess so¡± She replied


    ¡°You¡¯ll be alright, don¡¯t worry¡± He reassured with his hands on her face. She noticed the reluctance in his eyes, reluctance that covered up the ache in his heart. Now was the crucial moment, if she let it slide he would walk away, and no way she was letting her vent slip through her fingers. This was something she¡¯d done several times.


    He turned to leave, it was now or never. She grabbed his arm


    ¡°No, wait! Please stay with me for a little while¡± She said coquettishly.


    He stared into her eyes for a moment, the longer it lasted the sicker she felt on the inside.


    ¡°Okay,¡± He said softly and stood quietly as she made a show of fumbling with her keys before opening the door. The door opened finally and two figures walked in closing the door behind them.


    His mouth opened, words beginning to form but she silenced them with her lips. His hands ran over her body igniting desire. More, she needed more to forget to move past the pain. They landed on the bed. Clothes, quickly undone. Their lips separated for air before locking again. His warmth, his passion she wanted it all.


    His thickness engulfed her suddenly and she melted into his embrace. His warm breath brushed against her skin with every stroke, making her gasp each time. She pushed deeper into him wanting more. She whispered into his ears


    ¡°Faster, please¡±


    And suddenly the wave of passion rose, crashing harder each time, faster each moment. She trembled as he filled her again and again. He came out, bent her over and hotness rushed through her filling her emptiness.


    <h6>¡®More, more more¡¯ </h6>


    There was nothing else on her mind as they collided passionately.


    He smiled at her as they laid in she laid in his embrace, the aftermath of passion.   They would never be together but now he was hopelessly ensnared, something she would have to painfully deal with. He came up again, his lost expression. The last time she saw him. The breakup with Jamie had just happened. She¡¯d stormed off his hotel room, her anger mixed with the pain of betrayal billowing. Coincidentally, she ran into him, he wanted to help but her reply


    ¡°Leave me alone, weirdo!!!¡± and only a week later he tried to kill himself.


    It killed her inside, she should have never said those words to him, she should have apologized but she didn¡¯t, she should have reached out more, tried harder. She buried her head into Allen¡¯s bosom, tears rushing forth

 Restitution

    Bubbles surfaced on the grease-stained plates; a yellow sponge whisked across them, carrying food remnants to their watery grave. The plates then rinsed under tap water before being placed in a rack. He glanced at the heap of plates that formed a small mountain and the three other piles behind it. He sighed.


    ¡°Overtime it is.¡±


    It was the only job he could get while his case of domestic violence rested in the court. Even though Lara refused to press any charges, the evidence was too glaring.


    <h6>¡®Where did it all go wrong?¡¯</h6>


    His son lay hooked up to machines in a hospital, fighting for his life; a son he never paid any attention to. Blinded by his own pain, he refused to consider the effects of his actions. Now it all came crashing, a broken wife, comatose son, and a dead-end job doing dishes at a Chinese restaurant. A girl walked into the kitchen, the Probably early twenties, her face obscured by the pile of dishes she carried; some of her black hair was sprawled around the plates.


    He gently dropped the plates, and they clinked softly against the concrete. He watched her glance at the dishes, and her face flushed with sympathy. He smiled and gave her a ¡®don¡¯t worry about me look.¡¯ She nodded and left. It was going to be a long day.  The image came back to him, the bandages and casts, he was mummified beyond recognition, The decompressor slowly filling his lungs with air.


    The doctor¡¯s report was even grimmer¡ªspinal damage, broken bones, punctured lungs, head trauma, internal bleeding, and organ trauma. Chances of survival were slim, the doctor told them. Lara broke down the moment she laid eyes on their son. He couldn¡¯t console her because it was all his damn fault. His son had called him about a month ago soliciting that he needed money for an upcoming project, but he hung up straight and never gave it another thought.


    A loud shatter suddenly echoed and snapped him out of self-loathing. A plate had fallen - again. He sighed and quickly but carefully picked up the pieces and hid them under the rubbish in the trash can.


    <h6>¡®I NEED this job! I can¡¯t let Mr. Wen find out I broke another one.¡¯</h6>


    He picked up the trash can and followed the back to throw out its content into the disposal behind the building, erasing all evidence of the grave atrocity, according to Mr. Wen at least.


    ¡°Another atrocity, eh?¡± A voice sounded from behind.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± He replied with a sigh. A burly man in chef uniform appeared from behind. Zhang Yahzu. The master chef¡¯s apprentice/work slave. He worked unreasonable hours; he knew Zhang barely got up to two hours of sleep daily. While his chore was optional,  Zhang had no choice. When he asked Zhang, all he got was ¡®Yakuza shit don¡¯t bother,¡¯ and that killed his curiosity instantly.


    ¡°Why do you put up with it even when you know you could just quit?¡± Zhang asked.


    ¡°Money,¡± He replied slowly after pondering.


    ¡°Ah, I see,¡± Zhang said thoughtfully. ¡°Well, I best return inside before my short absence becomes the catalyst for human extinction,¡± Zhang said, flashing a smile.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Zhang moved quickly into the door, his toque Blanche disappearing out of view. He hoisted the can above the disposal and cringed slightly as the sound of ceramic erupted as they passed into the chute. He walked back in and beheld the mountain that he had to move. His MBA meant nothing here. Where the food was being prepared was a door ahead. And here, where the plates were washed was just a small section before the auxiliary exit meant for staff only.


    Tomorrow would be his shift for deliveries. He preferred it than to stay cooped up here having to deal with these plates. He picked up the sponge and dove right back in. Quitting alcohol was the most challenging; he would stay up nights with withdrawal symptoms. The therapist had suggested finding something that would distract him from it. Working here sure did take up his time. A pair of slender hands with another sponge slipped into the sink. He turned: it was the girl from before.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say a word, just deal with it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°I said not to say anything, I¡¯ve chosen to do it, and that¡¯s it¡±


    He smiled helplessly as he turned towards the heap behind him and chopped off a small portion, and lobbed it gently into the sink; it was then split between four hands.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have tables to attend to?¡± He asked, rinsing a plate and dropping it in the rack on the left smoothly.


    ¡°Lunch break.¡±


    ¡°You guys get lunch breaks here?¡± He asked incredulously


    ¡°No, Zhen Bi covers for me, and I cover for her too,¡± she answered in her Chinese infused English.


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°So why do you work here? I¡¯ve just been too busy to ask; you seem like you could get a job in a better place.¡±


    ¡°Issues,¡± He said quickly.


    ¡°What kind?¡± She asked. It was supposed to be nosey. But somehow, it wasn¡¯t.


    ¡°My Son¡¯s sick, and I need the money, and right now, this is the best job I can find¡± It was more or less the same.


    ¡°I see.¡±


    Silence ensued. About an hour later, half of the first pile was finished.


    ¡°And your wife?¡± She asked, trying to dispel the awkwardness.


    ¡°She hasn¡¯t been taking it so well lately. What about you? Why do you work here?¡± He asked, moving away from the topic.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing important¡± She avoided his gaze.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s not fair; I told you mine,¡± he said, trying to meet her gaze.


    ¡°Fine... want to be a dancer. Auditions are coming up, registrations cost money, so I¡¯m here, and so is Zhen Bi.¡±


    ¡°Zhen Bi?¡± He didn¡¯t recall anyone by that name.


    ¡°You must not have seen her, eh, short; all-black¡± Her hands sprung into lively animation as she tried to describe Zhen Bi.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± He had nothing to say. ¡°Good luck with that,¡± he eventually managed to say.


    She nodded and focused on the dishes. Someone walked into the kitchen: black hair, black dress, black eyes; it was like she just attended a funeral. Everything was black and in stark contrast to her milky porcelain features. Zhen Bi. She came over, spoke something in Chinese, and left.


    She put on the faucet and rinsed her hands swiftly. ¡°Lunch break¡¯s over.¡± She turned back to me. ¡°My name is Li Na.¡±


    ¡°Mark,¡± He replied as her figure disappeared.


    The room soon became lonely.


    All of this was his fault. Would it even matter what he did now? Would it be enough? All his effort to become a better person, A better father¡­


    His vision became misty as lather mixed with plates.

 Ballad of The Courtroom

    He frowned at his ruffled sleeve as he approached the door of his soon-to-be repossessed car, a luxury brand financed by his former corporation as an incentive. His career, all he had worked so hard for, was brought crashing by his own hands. Years of ass-kissing and bootlicking just to climb the corporate ladder, the number of people estranged because of it, it was nothing now. A tender voice came from behind.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna be fine.¡±


    Laura. She was still supportive even through all of this. He had actually dared to maltreat her when all she ever did was love and support him. He didn¡¯t deserve her. Her arms wrapped around his waist, her strawberry scent filling his nose.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, this is all my fault¡± He sighed as he held her hands.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t,¡± She whispered into his ears. ¡°I had a part to play too.¡±


    ¡°But if I had just¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s already happened. All we can do now is move forward so we can be better for him...when he wakes up.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, or we¡¯ll be late,¡± He said after seconds of silence had passed.


    ¡°Ok.¡±


    He patted down his sleeve, clasping the door handle. Today was the day, the court hearing of his case. Anxiety gnawed at the back of his mind, even though she refused to testify, and he hired a good lawyer, uncertainty still remained. What if he was convicted? What if he had to leave Laura all alone to cater for their comatose son


    <h6>¡®No! Positive thoughts¡¯</h6>


    ¡°Mark?¡± She called from inside, her neck stretched towards the driver seat.


    ¡°Right,¡± He replied and entered the car; he inserted the key into the ignition. Her hand covered his. Their eyes locked briefly as she offered him support in that moment of silence. He nodded and twisted the key.


    ¡°Tie,¡± She reminded, pointing to his naked neck.


    ¡°Can¡¯t believe I forgot,¡± He said, quickly rushing into the house.


    <h6>¡®Where is it?¡¯</h6>


    His eyes darted around, scrutinizing every inch of the bedroom.


    ¡°Yes,¡± He exclaimed as he spotted it lying on the dresser. He darted back out, furiously knotting as he entered the car.


    ¡°Does it look okay?¡± He asked after tying it.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± She replied with a smile.


    He nodded and hit the accelerator. Today could be the end or a new beginning. He couldn¡¯t count on luck; it never failed in failing him. But his chances of getting out from this were very slim. His stomach twisted, contemplating it as he drove. He looked at Laura. She seemed so calm like she knew the outcome.


    <h6>¡®How can she be so calm?¡¯</h6>


    She caught him staring.


    ¡°Hey, focus on the road,¡± She reprimanded.


    ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± He said and faced the windshield. A small white car was a few meters ahead of them, but that was it. Nothing else, the road was lonely this morning.


    <h6>¡®Strange¡¯</h6>


    It seemed like the world was somehow in sync with his misery, but what did the white car ahead represent? The road was his journey in life, once filled with people, now utterly deserted.


    <h6>¡®Hope?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®No, there¡¯s none, for me at least.¡¯</h6>


    Either outcome would bring new challenges. If he was acquitted, the bills still remained; finding another job at his age was incredibly hard. Insurance could only cover so much. Finger-shaped depression surfaced on the side of the steering wheel, evidence of his anxiety. He made a left turn, and the courthouse came into view. He gulped as he stared at it before going to find parking.


    The car parked, the engine turned off. He froze in the car, not wanting to go forward.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do this,¡± he sobbed, his head on the steering. Standing in front of those judgemental eyes as his sins were laid bare - an alcoholic wife-beater. He Imagined their looks of disdain and disgust as the image of a vile criminal filled their heads.


    ¡°No, no, no. Be strong, for our son.¡± Her voice reassured him. ¡°We¡¯ll get through this.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± He said, pulling himself together.


    They walked outside towards the courthouse. A stream of people walked out with different expressions. It was always this way, no matter the outcome of a court judgment there would always be those who were in favor of it and those against it. His lawyer Richard was waiting for him in the public seating area amongst many others.


    There was a trial currently being held, so he would have to wait his turn. Right behind the short swinging doors with railings on each side stood a man at the defendants¡¯ table. The witnesses against were all injured policemen, no less than twenty of them. A chill went down his spine, this was a hardened criminal with no remorse for whatever he¡¯d done. But, there was no difference between them in the eyes of his neighbors, the eyes of the jury, the eyes of the law.


    The proceedings had begun. He noticed the look on the judge¡¯s face, tired. She was tired. He couldn¡¯t tell why. Troubles at home, the everyday hassle of her job, or this specific case. Maybe this wasn¡¯t her first time seeing that man and each time he got away with it. It sounded plausible because the man seemed pretty confident along with his lawyer.


    The court was deathly quiet. Wayward glances were thrown around. And he swore that he heard the judge muttering under her breath as she rearranged the files before her.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with¡±


    The prosecutor stood up. Hardly any tension amongst the jury. His voice came forth murdering the silence. He said a few words to the judge but it suddenly fizzled, Mark saw the prosecutor¡¯s lips moving but there was no sound. Soon it was replaced by an indistinct tune. The more he strained to listen, the fainter the sound became. His gaze moved over to the witness stand.


    He saw the fury in their eyes. The hatred ran deeper than those injuries. The man¡¯s lawyer stood. His lips moved quickly and the prosecutor¡¯s lips moved in response. They were in some sort of mini argument of which he heard not a single word. The tune was louder but yet Mark couldn¡¯t still make it out.


    Soon, the atmosphere became animated and arms flew around in protests. It seemed the tune had reached a high point with short bursts of rhythm. The gavel shot down bringing the music and commotion to an abrupt halt.


    The eerie silence lasted for only but a moment, soon a chord was raised- the unlocking of a steel briefcase. Rays of light bounced around it highlighting it in the courtroom. Something wrapped tightly in cloth was the center of the show. All eyes were drawn to the mysterious gray cloth. The prosecutor¡¯s hand unwrapped it slowly, and as the object revealed itself, the defendant turned to stone.


    It was a dainty little thing, a USB stick. Why it was wrapped so dramatically would remain a mystery to Mark. A deep humming arose amongst the soul-stirring symphony of instruments. Abloom in the life of the slow arrangements as the humming became ever-increasing. The smirk on the prosecutor''s face, the uneasy look of the lawyer, the icy gaze of the defendant, and the curious stares of the jury. Words flowing, scales tipping things turning.


    The defendant¡¯s gaze fixated on the prosecutor as the silver USB was inserted and the contents bared for the world to see. Everything now abstracted to blurry shapes and forms. Little feet, he remembered little feet running across the soft white sand. Smiles and peals of laughter, sand caught in between her little fingers and the ever so gentle breeze. It was three days before she died.


    He remembered that day, she came running to him just as the sun began to dim


    ¡°Daddy!!! Come play with us, mom¡¯s signing a peace treaty with big brother¡¯s fort¡± She said, tugging him.


    ¡°Is that so?¡± He asked at the time.


    ¡°Yes, they¡¯re forming an alliance to take down my fort, Rosara.¡± She said with a sense of urgency in her little voice.


    ¡°We can¡¯t have that now, can we?¡± He replied, lifting her onto his shoulders. ¡°To war!¡± He declared and charged towards two figures and a sandcastle in the distance.


    ¡°War!¡± She squealed in response.


    It happened in a flash. There was the sound of her crying rushing to report another mistreatment by her brother followed by a scream and a loud thud. He only rushed to find her at the base of the stairs in a pool of blood. The ambulance arrived in minutes but it was too late. She was declared dead moments after their arrival.


    His beautiful daughter, full of so much joy but the cruelty of this world had caught up to her. Her voice, her smile, her laughter now distant, only to be found etched in the depth of memories.


    The music slowly came to an end. Leaving lonely barren emptiness behind. He heard a voice somewhere from the corner.


    ¡°The song was playing out all this while? Stupid phone¡± Followed by a grumble of obscenity.


    Detail returned to his vision. It was a kid around the same age as his son. He was a fledgling reporter at least that¡¯s what the notes and recorder he had implied.


    The kid packed up his stuff in a school bag, his eyes telling he was ready to leave. Then another voice erupted.


    ¡°Court Dismissed!¡±


    And people left in droves passing by with a great deal of chatter.


    ¡°Mark¡± Laura called from the side. ¡°You''re crying¡±


    ¡°I am?¡± He asked, touching his face.


    A gruff voice spoke from behind with a hand placed on his shoulder. It was Richard.


    ¡°Mark, it¡¯s time.¡±

 Stress

    He was drenched by rain as he made his way up the hill. The glossy asphalt made him fear he would slip as he trudged upwards. He made sure he was in contact with the numerous trees that lined up both sides of the road. He would dash across the gaps between each tree, his heart skipping each time.


    <h6>¡®Damn weather report, sunny skies they said¡¯</h6>


    His face scrunched as the wind blew more water droplets into his face.  He checked the bag slung over his shoulder if water had leaked through. He let out a sigh of relief as he moved on forward. If anything happened to the documents inside, he was screwed, and more importantly, the Harry Potter novel was inside the only thing keeping his sanity intact from all those stares he received daily. He just reached the second book. He wanted to be lost again in the world of wizardry and wonder instead of the myriad of dangerous orange.


    He already missed his wife, not her hollering of course. It seemed no matter how long he was gone she would still scream at him when she got the chance. But behind closed doors, she was still the best. His body warmed up at the thought. Now it was back to this dreadful place and his dreadful post.  The wind suddenly sped up, no it was his body, his legs had lost their grip. His vision tilted as his face smashed into the road.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± He cursed, picking his smudged body back up. He spat dirt out of his mouth. If he had a car this would be easier except he did, his wife had taken ¡®possession¡¯ of it.


    Checking the state of the contents he moved quickly and a few grueling minutes later he had reached his destination-where he was to spend the next six months; his place of work. He went to the radio attached to the wall.


    ¡°Requesting entry,¡± He said quickly.


    ¡°Entry for who?¡± A voice responded after a few seconds.


    ¡°Let me the fuck in! It¡¯s cold out here¡± He responded in fury as his face still burned from the fall.


    ¡°You know I can¡¯t without a proper ID¡± The voice responded with a snicker.


    ¡°Colin Berg,¡± He said after a sigh. There was a loud buzzer before the monolith gray gates parted ways for him. He made sure to give the middle finger to the watchtower on the left. Before proceeding through an open field riddled with hidden sentries towards the main entrance.


    Colin fished out his access card from his bag. He sighed before swiping it down the slot. He pushed open the heavy doors revealing dull gray walls with a counter a few feet away and a guard standing idly by.


    He walked up to the counter reluctantly and dropped the bag on the counter to be inspected while the idle guard came to frisk him.


    ¡°Enjoy your break?¡± The guard asked as he searched Colin.


    ¡°Mostly, In between all the screaming and hollering, yeah¡± Colin replied with a smile.


    ¡°And you¡¯re¡­ clear,¡± The guard said getting up. ¡°Welcome back.¡±


    He faced the counter once more where the documents were being leafed through. And then the novel was unearthed. The guy at the counter gave him a queer look.


    ¡°Move on, Bill¡± Colin hissed.


    Bill turned away, flipped through the book carefully, and went on to search the rest of the bag.


    He set aside the documents and returned the bag and its contents to Colin.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°Enjoy your er¡­ book¡± Bill mocked.


    ¡°Piss off mudblood¡± Colin responded and left through the hallway door. His spirits sank as he walked through the unfortunately familiar hall. A door lay at the end amidst flickering fluorescent lights.


    He heard noises coming through the door as he made his way towards the distant door.


    ¡°Should have gotten the audiobook¡±


    Finally, the door revealed its contents. Countless rows of metal bars extended to seeming infinity both upwards and below, with evenly spaced, heavily-armed guards, easily defendable.  It was also meticulously clean and smelled sharply metallic with the faint underlying rot of unwashed armpits.  Voices echoed, reminding Colin of crowded underground metros, except the din held pain and anger, hatred, and the promise of instant violence.  Colin shook his head, clearing out the odd sense of vertigo.  How long would it take him to get used to this mausoleum?


    He descended down the flight of stairs on the right. He always remembered to take it slowly as the last time he rushed the descent he was exhausted before he had reached his destination. Even though the air conditioning worked fine it only got stuffier the lower he went.


    The stares had already begun, it seemed like one day, one of these oranges would pounce out and that would be the last he ever saw, he would never feel Aubrey¡¯s warmth again. The thought terrified him. He quickly shook it off.


    His destination was still further down, around five minutes had passed. It suddenly became cold, he was getting closer. After what seemed like forever he finally reached his destination-rock bottom. Colin felt uneasy as he walked as sauntered across the row of oranges in cages.


    <h6>¡®Just get to the other side and you¡¯re home free¡¯</h6>


    The goal was in sight but the chasm seemed impregnable. Colin tried hard not to flinch as he walked past them quickly. It was so close. He was going to make it, and then it would be over with.


    <h6>¡®Just a few more steps¡¯</h6>


    His body froze and his chest tightened as he heard a voice from behind.


    ¡°Hey, Colin was it?¡±


    Colin fought back his fright and turned his head swiftly.


    ¡°Yeah¡±  He replied hoping his body hadn¡¯t given off any clues yet.


    ¡°My term is already ended, I¡¯m supposed to be out of here,¡± The voice said solemnly.


    Colin gazed at those black bulging muscles and gulped. He forced a smile and replied. ¡°Yeah, there were some issues at the higher-ups, so there will be no releases till at least six months from now especially with your kind.


    ¡°The man I used to be.'''' The man countered calmly. And to everyone, it seemed so everyone except Colin. He was the only one who would catch the murderous glint in this man¡¯s eyes.  He had them deceived, put up exceptionally good behavior but Colin had seen it, the first time was dumb luck but ever since then he was always catching that look.


    Colin smiled and said, ¡°Yeah¡­ I have to go now¡±. He walked quickly towards the door nodding to the guard at the side who nodded in return as he passed through the door. His back was drenched with sweat as he walked towards his office where he would resume his duty as a prison instructor. He stepped into the classroom. The tables were always so perfectly ordered that it sometimes scared him. He also had nightmares about some random inmate lunging forward and stabbing him to death with a shiv. Even though he had been assured that everyone coming to his class was verified to be non-violent it did nothing to allay his fears. Luckily there was a week before he would resume duty. Now it was only the ¡®joy¡¯ of settling in that had to be dealt with. The door beside the board led to his living quarters where he would stay once again for six months with occasional breaks before the holiday leave.


    He jumped into the bed and quickly took off his shirt and threw it to the side without care and fished the book out greedily. He stared at the cover and smiled at how his wife would read books with him silently with her faint scent of cinnamon. He was always the slower one, forcing her to wait a few more seconds more to flip the next page. At first, it was infuriating for her but after two years, she was now used to it and would wait the extra seconds quietly.


    Colin had also tried to increase his reading speed just to please her. But it was futile as she had noticed the discomfort on his face each time he tried and eventually told him that she would wait as long as it was both of them reading. Even now, it was easy to picture her by his side as he was about to take the dive to a world that would keep him from mental breakdown due to unnecessary but relatable paranoia of his workplace.


    ¡°Now, shall we begin?¡± He said to himself as he opened the book ¡°Harry Potter and The Order of The Phoenix.¡±

 Red Tape

    Laura stared at the notebook, exasperated. She chewed the pen cap furiously as she stared at the mess of inky numbers across the open pages.


    ¡®Still not enough!¡¯


    The mail just came in, and with it, more bills and warnings. Laura ran her hands through her hair in frustration; it had become her habit these past few weeks. Mortgagers were ringing her day and night, and the hospital bills to keep her son alive were piling up already near the limits of their health insurance. Problems were just raining down from the sky. At least Mark had been acquitted, He hadn¡¯t actually done anything. He was acquitted from the false allegations thrown at him, but the bad press still prevented him from returning to his job. When she said that she should look for work as well, Mark had insisted that she should remain a housewife. However, that was weeks ago. Something needed to change.


    And so, the grueling endeavor of working out job possibilities with her job coach began. Checking the web on her laptop, she applied for three online jobs with potential, as well as a part-time job as a technical assistant. Whenever she felt she was going to be overwhelmed the image of her son flashed and rekindled the flame.


    ¡®Not yet¡¯


    She moved through the mess of crumpled and half-torn pieces of paper everywhere to the window sill, her blue coffee mug staring at her silently from the window¡¯s edge, cold from camping out there since morning. Her sad eyes gazed at the big orange sun with all its fury simmered to a tender glow. Her son was a curious child, not just the one that came naturally at that age. It was exceedingly abundant, bordering on totally annoying but adorable nonetheless.


    Even though it seemed like everything was Mark¡¯s fault, it wasn¡¯t true. She had watched silently when her son was tormented, and every time her son would stare at her with the same questions.


    Why?


    Why was it happening to him?


    Why was she allowing it?


    She had been so blinded by pain from her daughter that she didn¡¯t notice¡ªNo she had ignored it. She had stuck her head in the sand and pretended it didn¡¯t happen. Until it was too late. He had been drowning. Her son was drowning and was so accustomed to being ignored that he stopped fighting; and sank


    ¡®I should have said something, done something.¡¯


    The door opened behind her¡ªher husband. He usually came back at the dead of night.


    ¡°Hey,¡± She said as she walked up to him, her hands spread out for a hug. His hands shot up to hers and held them in place in the air. It confused her


    ¡°What''s wro¡ª¡± She mumbled


    ¡°Don¡¯t. I¡¯m all sweaty,¡± He finally said.


    He hastily walked in the direction of the shower and closed the door. She heard him turn the knob and the rush of water. She picked up a framed picture of her daughter Ellie that stood on one of the sofa chairs and she slumped down into the coach. She missed her little angel. Too young to see the world for it was, with a smile so bright it could light it up


    If Ellie was here, she could cheer her right up with that smile. A dull ache surfaced in her chest as memories of her daughter appeared. Something wet touched her from behind. She flinched slightly and turned back. It was Mark with a towel wrapped around him. It was his hand on her shoulder.


    ¡°You scared me!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± He said, his voice low as he hugged her.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "Augh! You''re all wet!" Laura complained.


    She noticed him staring listlessly at the papers on the floor. His expression pained her, but she couldn¡¯t find the words. Just as she wanted to speak, he walked around and sat beside her.


    ¡°Need some help with that?¡± He asked, gesturing to the papers as he walked around and sat beside her.


    She watched him sigh as he reviewed the figures, his countenance sinking by the second. Her hand met his shoulder.


    She looked down on the papers. She blew out a deep breath.


    ¡°I- Yes. Yes I do- but.¡±¡°


    ¡°But?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t seem to find the energy. But I need to find it because our son is in the hospital and-¡±


    ¡°I know it¡¯s hard,¡± He whispered into her ears, his soft breath caressing them. ¡°You need a break or you¡¯ll crash and burn, I¡¯m sure our son wouldn¡¯t want that.¡±


    She wanted to talk; they hadn¡¯t spoken in weeks now, barely seeing much of each other during the day. Just as she wanted to snap back that he should do the same, she heard his voice, barely audible.


    ¡°I remember when he used to sing around the house all the time. ¡±


    ¡°Yeah, his voice, so beautiful but he¡¯d turned it into a disturbance, we could never seem to get him to stop,¡± She replied, her dry throat burning with emotions.


    ¡°...and when you asked him why he sang so much, remember what he said?¡±


    ¡°To stop would be to die, I cannot keep this music inside me or it¡¯ll explode,¡± She replied as his memories of him filled her vision.


    The smug grin on his face as he said those words, her chest felt heavy, She''d lost their son a long time ago, long before this incident.


    "We have to be strong, for him,¡± Mark said to her. "He wouldn''t want this."


    Suddenly anger rose inside of her. Anger towards him, anger towards herself.


    ¡°How would you know!?¡± She said coldly.


    ¡°What?¡± He asked, confused as she pushed herself away from him. ¡°...I mean he wouldn¡¯t want to see his mother break down.¡± He replied


    ¡°How do you know he doesn¡¯t hate us for all we¡¯ve put him through¡± She finally broke down, falling to her knees in tears;


    ¡°I¡­¡± That was the only thing Mark could say in response; there was no way of knowing.


    ¡°...I¡¯m sorry,¡± He said simply.


    They weren¡¯t meant for them but for their child, who attempted to take his own life. She had gone wrong in so many things.


    ¡°Remember we have to be better for him, you said those words,¡± He said.


    ¡°And I die a little more each time, how can we be better? How? What could we possibly do? I¡¯m not even sure he¡¯ll wake up. It¡¯s been three months!¡± She wailed at the top of her lungs, the pain and despair threatening to swallow her.


    ¡°I always wondered how you could be strong and press on, honestly it seemed like to you all that happened was only a minor setback but you¡¯re holding it all in¡±


    ¡°How can you stand there and talk so calmly! You abused our son and I watched!¡± She sobbed into her knees.


    ¡°I... know,¡± He said as she noticed his eyes welled up with tears.¡°...and no matter I do it will never make up for what I¡¯ve done but If I¡ª¡± His voice cracked as he tried to hold back the tide; to calm himself, he cleared his throat.


    ¡°But if we don¡¯t try, doesn¡¯t it mean we don¡¯t care? That all we did to him was okay.¡±


    She became mute, the emotions were overwhelming. She wished this was all a bad dream and that her only child being on the brink of death was only a nightmare and if she woke up, he would be there to tell her about how he was okay.


    ¡®Why?¡¯


    ¡®Why did this have to happen to us.¡¯


    ¡®God, please bring him back to me, to us, please let me have the chance to at least try.¡¯


    She pleaded as she wept.


    ¡°Please, stop. I¡ªI can¡¯t bear to see you like this, I just can¡¯t,¡± Mark said, embracing her tighter.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± She finally said after a while.


    ¡°What are you apologizing for?¡± He asked with a tender voice and silently sniffed.


    ¡°I just wish¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± He interrupted, he heaved her up into his arms into a princess carry, and lifted her off to her bedroom.


    After laying her on the bed properly.


    ¡°You rest.¡± He kissed her forehead, ¡±I¡¯m gonna stay up for a bit. I will be with you in a moment.¡±


    He tiptoed to the living room and sat before the papers she was working on. He sighed as he picked up the stack of papers, and continued where she had left off.


    ¡®Please be okay for us, son.¡¯

 Awakening

    ¡°It¡¯s all your fault!¡±


    <h6>¡®No!¡¯ </h6>


    ¡°It¡¯s all because of you!¡±


    <h6>¡®I didn¡¯t know, please...¡¯</h6>


    Darkness. Something soft was in my hands. I heard a little angry voice.


    ¡°Gimme back my Dollie!!!¡±.


    There was a slight tugging force on the soft object in my hands followed by a loud rip. Light instantly filled my vision. And in its wake severe blurriness. A little figure ran forward.


    ¡°Wait!!!¡± I tried to scream but the words seemed to vanish as they came out. I screamed at the top of my lungs but the feet continued forward. I wanted to run forward to grab her¡ªto save her¡ªtell her I was sorry. But it felt like I was wading through viscous liquid. My chest burned as I struggled to move forward but no matter how hard I tried, I wasn¡¯t fast enough. She moved around a corner swiftly and then the scream came. The scream that haunted the depths of my heart, tore my soul to pieces.


    Darkness enveloped my vision, all was lost. Sensations, sanity, soul¡­


    <h6>¡®I killed her and that is the truth¡¯</h6>


    There was no other truth, I was a murderer.


    <h6>¡®I¡¯m evil¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Can¡¯t do anything right!!!¡¯</h6>


    A small hope arose in the corner


    <h6>¡®But it wasn¡¯t¡ª¡¯</h6>


    I dashed it immediately.


    <h6>¡®No! She¡¯s dead because of me¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®She died because of a worthless piece of shit like me!!!¡¯</h6>


    I am nothing but a vile murderer, the air that I breathed was wasted on me. My parents were only acting that way because of me. I killed the joy of their life and for that reason alone I deserve the worst things. Ripping my flesh is insufficient, breaking my bones is not enough, giving my life would never atone for sins I committed. Beyond the sin of existing, the greatest of all was causing the death of another with my existence.


    Every good thing I got meant someone more important didn¡¯t have it. I killed her! I killed her I killed her I killed her! As worthless as I am I had the guts to kill another, one unfortunate to be related to the waste of space that I am.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The image played again, I, as the worst of the worst ripped a doll of another, another whose worth I could never measure up to. I as the cruelest taunted her by my cursed lips. I, as a useless existence, watched her fall and caused the death of another. I as trash was too scared to take my life.


    <h6>¡®Stupid stupid stupid STUPID!¡¯</h6>


    Pity, I don¡¯t deserve it! Family, I don¡¯t deserve it! Friends, I don¡¯t deserve them! The love I don¡¯t deserve! Life, I don¡¯t deserve it!!! That I received any of these was a grave error in accordance with my existence.


    I stupidly tried to hope, greedily tried to want, and desperately tried to believe¡­ in things I do not deserve.


    Suddenly the darkness faded away. I saw the look on their faces, the hatred they bore. I wanted to run, to hide away from it but it latched itself onto me and bore deep into my soul.


    <h6>¡®Is this what death feels like?¡¯</h6>


    It was cold, so cold it hurt on the outside and deep within my bones. There was a faint piercing odor of something I couldn¡¯t remember. Something crawled beneath my skin ripping muscle and tissue part, I was not afforded the luxury of a scream, only able to tremble in silent agony.


    I wasn¡¯t the victim, I was the villain. And due to my negligence, another lost his life.  Miquel Chan. Because I wallowed in self-pity, I refused to do something, hoping that maybe if others were suffering the same fate then I was not all that useless. Tugging¡­ something was tugging at me.


    Each time my focus shifted to it vanished instantly leaving confusion and emptiness then frustration. When I least expected it, it would suddenly materialize.


    A myriad of voices erupted suddenly filling every- whatever I was in.


    <h6>¡®You killed her¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®You killed her¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Murderer¡­¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Murderer¡­¡¯</h6>


    ¡°Shut up! Stop !¡±


    <h6>¡®Murderer¡­¡¯</h6>


    ¡°I already know that!¡± I screamed, I had no mouth but the words formed either way.


    <h6>¡®You accept your punishment. Yes?¡¯</h6>


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    And then it descended. Indescribable pain. All was pain. The smell from before, I suddenly could remember. It was antiseptic. The myriad of voices began to fade as I realized where I felt the pain.


    A whisper arose, barely audible.


    <h6>¡®Here is your penance¡¯</h6>


    Before I could comprehend the words another voice arose


    ¡°Stirring¡­ He¡¯s stirring!¡±


    It faded into faint mutters. There was a distant sound of Air rushing¡­ A vent.


    I suddenly felt my body, fingers, face head, legs all of it. And the excruciating pain in each part. There was something bright, bringing me discomfort. My eyes slowly fluttered open. A light bulb on an Immaculate white ceiling, the sound of footsteps scurrying about.


    <h6>¡®Why?!¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Why!!¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Why didn¡¯t I die!!!¡¯</h6>

 Why?

    I could breathe... I could see... I could smell¡­ I can feel¡­


    Pain, there was so much pain, all over everywhere each breath like heavy weightlifting. The pain in my head was so intense I could barely keep my eyes open.


    <h6>¡®Why?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Why am I alive?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®What kind of sick joke is this?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®I should be dead, I jumped out of a fucking skyscraper!!!¡¯ </h6>


    Forcefully, I shifted my gaze to my body. Beyond the oxygen mask, both legs were wrapped in bandages and hoisted in the air with metal supports. My mummified right hand was also hoisted up in the air and the bed was surrounded by numerous monitors. I felt everything, the pain made sure of it, I was more aware of my body than I had ever been.


    A nurse walked up to me. She seemed enthusiastic about something tapping repeatedly on a notepad. And then walked off without a single word. A while later, a doctor came in; brown hair, glasses, and the white coat¡ªthe usual. He gazed at the monitors around me and noted them down his hands repeatedly tapping the bedside counter.


    <h6>¡®What¡¯s going on?¡¯</h6>


    Tap. Tap. Tap tap tap tap.


    It sped up and suddenly slowed down until the taps had transformed into thuds. A warning beep erupted somewhere. I noticed the doctor turn swiftly before he seemed to call out something in a panic. It was only then I realized I had l lost my sense of hearing. Something sharp pierced my chest and suddenly my vision clouded over.


    <h6>¡®What¡¯s¡­ happening¡­¡¯</h6>


    It suddenly became black once more.


    It was cold. So cold it hurt. Painful cold ran through my chest, It was aiming for my heart. Slowly it closed in, nothing would stop its advance, nothing could. Finally, It reached me, gripped me, and pain with no words to truly describe tormented me. My eyes shot open, ripping me away from the pain. I noticed two flat pads being lifted off my chest¡ªA defibrillator.


    A needle passed through my arm, I felt it but I had no idea how they got past the cast. The raging headache resumed as they wheeled me out of the OR.


    I was now alone in an empty ward tucked away silently in the corner with only my thoughts. I guess even the doctors could instinctively sense my worth because after that, a nurse only came to check on me once a day and she always seemed eager to leave each visit. There was hardly any difference between day or night in this room and the pain kept me awake most of the time.


    The nurse walked in again, this time with two figures in tow¡ªMy parents. Somehow they remembered me enough to visit, another error. I saw tears in my mom¡¯s eyes.


    <h6>¡®Why?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Why is she crying?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®For me? No that¡¯s impossible!¡¯</h6>


    The questions bothered me so much I wanted to scream it and I did try but the pipe down my throat had other plans, hence only a weak whistle came out. she trembled as she approached me, Dad was staring at me emotionlessly. Now that was a proper reaction.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Her hand touched mine.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± She said.


    <h6>¡®What?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Why is she apologizing?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Oh, I see¡­¡¯</h6>


    It made sense. I had just been suddenly moved to a desolate ward where I was barely attended to, which meant the bills had probably overwhelmed them and they came here to let me know they¡¯ve abandoned me. I turned my eyes away from her. They had all the right to, all I¡¯d ever been to them was a burden. Finally, after a few minutes, the nurse ushered them out to let me rest. And I was all alone again. The thought came again.


    <h6>¡®Why didn¡¯t I just die¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®I couldn¡¯t even do that right.¡¯</h6>


    I¡¯d been in a coma for six months. I learned that from a conversation between the nurse and the doctor in charge of my care. I rarely ever saw them together in this desolate ward.


    Due to the boredom, I played a game of some sort with myself. I tried to predict when next I would hear footsteps pass by and as a bonus which one would be the nurses. I failed countlessly, if only I was smarter¡­


    My mind suddenly drifted to her.


    <h6>¡®She probably knows by now¡¯</h6>


    Basically, everyone on campus knew that Jamie was cheating, well everyone except Sarah. I could¡¯ve told her but no one would believe the words of a loser like me, instead, it would probably backfire.


    I couldn¡¯t really say I knew her but, she probably wouldn¡¯t take it well. No one ever does. Maybe at that moment, they felt like me, worthless, so worthless that their partners had to look for better alternatives.


    No one else deserved to feel like that, no one else...but me.


    <h6>¡®I hope she gets through it¡¯</h6>


    I might probably die here. Either way, it¡¯s fine. They at least tried to foot the bills and insurance covered as much as it could anyways. Considering the constant pain I felt, a lot of stuff must be broken inside. I only wanted freedom, yet I managed to burden them even more. If I died, they wouldn¡¯t have to worry about a waste of space like me, they could live their lives happily and freely.


    Thankfully, dying here meant no miraculous comebacks. I¡¯d finally win. Now it was only a numbers game before organs start to fail and I would be finally free and maybe get a chance to apologize to my sister. The chance was extremely slim but it still existed.


    I am a mistake, even so¡­ I¡­


    <h6>¡®Don¡¯t be conceited¡¯</h6>


    There was no justifying it. I was allowed to have dreams and a family who cared at least long enough before they realized what I was. I tried. They say if you try hard enough, you¡¯ll achieve your goals you¡¯ll get what you worked for. I guess that only applies to non-anomalies.


    <h6>¡®Why was I born?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®I¡¯m a mistake, then why didn¡¯t I die then?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Why all this suffering?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®What was the point of all this?¡¯</h6>


    There was no point in living. There was no going back, If I somehow survived this, I would try again the first chance I got. The project I worked so hard for was already way past the due date¡ªautomatic fail. Efforts invalid. It¡¯s fine.


    Dying like a martyr would sound nice, that by dying all the pain in this world would suddenly disappear. It would be so easy to delude myself into thinking that. If I took on all the suffering, all the pain, no one else would have to face it. If it was me then it would be okay. A convenient escape.


    But the cold hard truth was that no matter what, this world would still bleed like it always did. My existence only aggravates the wounds further. Redemption for me is only a drunk fool¡¯s dream.


    <h6>¡®If so..¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Why¡­¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®I have already accepted my fate.¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Then...why?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®Why am I crying?¡¯</h6>


    <h6>¡®I¡¯m so hopeless¡­¡¯</h6>

 Need

    The days. I could''ve counted them If I needed to but it seemed other people counted them for me. Doctors and personnel would walk in like clockwork. They also mounted a TV to the edge of the room. I couldn''t see it, but I''m sure it looked nice. It has since that moment been turned on in the morning and every day, a radio voice would cut through all the noise of the hospital equipment. I wouldn''t have known a month had passed if not for the daily dose of his obnoxiously happy voice, like every day before.


    "Good morning everyone, it''s a brisk 3rd of July and I hear everyone is gearing up for the big event! I hear it might be a brisk day today of rain, bring an umbrella. For more on that business, I direct you to my colleague with the weather, Janet?"


    My body had started to ache, and my parents hadn''t seen me for a month as far as I could remember. While still subdued, the pain medication was noticeably less than before. They even removed the oxygen tube when they realized that I was able to breathe on my own, and when they were sure I wouldn''t try to bite my tongue off when doing so. Instead of following my innermost wishes, my health wasn''t declining, my condition was improving. The good news was that the probability of sudden heart failure was still incredibly high.


    Also, the ward I was in wasn''t desolate any longer. Someone else had been shoved into the pile of rejects. I couldn¡¯t tell what was wrong with him but for him to be here meant that it was just as serious as my predicament with low chances of survival.


    His eyes were always open and unfocused. They never shut, not even once. If not for his chest fluctuations, he could have easily passed off as dead. There were the occasional hand twitches and the very rare and by rare I meant I''d only seen it happen twice in a month where he turns his head ever so slightly.


    And his eyes lay emptiness and despair so deep, My feelings felt like hypocrisy, maybe they are¡­ The nurse before was pregnant and now was on maternity leave. How could I possibly know this you say? I got assigned a new nurse who for some reason thought it was sane to converse with me or rather a one-sided blasting of all her life problems, she first tried talking to Larry (have no idea what his real name is) but I guess she got creeped out by his unblinking gaze.


    And so every day she would come to my bedside and vent about her day, problems at work, her toxic parents, and her crush. At first, I wondered why she would pick me out of literally everyone in the universe but after a while, I got used to it and listened wholeheartedly. Either that or madness due to boredom and currently semi-isolation.


    <h6>''I guess she''s not coming, oh well¡­''</h6>


    Today, it had been far too long not that I could tell the time in this wretched place. I heard hurried footsteps towards the door eventually, and the familiar shadow in between the hinges. She walked in, her gait shifting restlessly¡ªsomething was wrong.


    "Hey," She whispered while adjusting the perfectly fine bun on her head.


    I slowly blinked in response. She sat down beside me, the familiar smell of peppermint.


    "How are you holding up?"


    I stared at her.


    <h6>¡®I''m a freaking mummy¡¯</h6>


    "Of course, you can''t answer that."Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    She paused and stared at the ceiling for a while. Now I knew something was wrong.


    "I''m getting transferred" She dropped it quietly.


    <h6>''Oh, of course, why not?''</h6>


    The only thing left to take was my sanity, well looks like that''s going soon.


    "Each time, I look into your eyes, I don''t say it but you''ve lost all hope, haven''t you?"


    <h6>''Close enough''</h6>


    "I don''t know what you''ve been through but I know you should never give up, I know you''ll come out of this, just believe."


    <h6>''Don''t curse me please''</h6>


    She reached out intending to touch my hand but eventually withdrew and left. Now it was only a time game, the countdown to isolation insanity. Her image popped into my head, my sister, her smile haunting me. I shut it out immediately. I wasn''t even worthy of being haunted by her.


    <h6>''Why didn''t I die?''</h6>


    A thought that came every time I opened my eyes and saw the fluorescent lights above. I also wondered what happened to my phone, most likely shattered into a million pieces but I was still curious. It was weird, I was lying here on the verge of death, paying penance, not enough for my sins and my phone was on my mind. It wasn''t only that, I had been replaced by now at my old job. Probably better at it than I was, best of luck dealing with the employer though. I imagined the guy who was to replace the glass, staring agape at a human-shaped hole in the glass. like in the cartoons. In reality, it would be a shapeless hole with dried blood at its edges, a gory sight. And then maybe, if they actually noticed me, a random employee there would say "Oh, poor thing, he was such a gloomy kid, maybe I could have tried to get to know him".


    But again, the only thing they probably remembered was the gore, not the guy who jumped, no he didn''t matter, what mattered was that the guy jumped, right in front of them and it was an incident that their workplace would now be permanently associated with. Bummer. Now they have to fill out those statements because of me. And then there were the students at my university, especially the ones in my faculty, who might be interrogated because suicide can be caused by several factors and blackmail is a crime, I think. Never got to look that up. Now, if things turn out well I won''t get that chance. I didn''t care, okay maybe a little.


    <h6>''It''s so uncomfortable in this cast''</h6>


    It itched a lot too, and there was nothing I could do about it, another parameter that is going to be greatly responsible for the loss of my sanity. That''s what I get for breaking out of prison, I receive an even stricter sentence. If I made it out of here, I wouldn''t be able to face anyone with those insincere looks of pity, people I''m not important to would try to make a ''connection''. If it was the old me, I might''ve welcomed it finally, an avenue to cling to the hope that I am important. But I have since learnt the wisdom in the words, ''Abandon all hope¡­''


    <h6>''What the hell did I land on?''</h6>


    <h6>''Wasn''t it the concrete floor?''</h6>


    <h6>''How the f did I survive?''</h6>


    The questions plagued me, it was impossible at least from my perspective, I should be nothing more than a splat scooped off the sidewalk¡­


    I felt something inside, so little it was negligible. Suddenly the fluorescent lights switched off, which meant it was already nighttime. The time of witches and whatnot. The teammates I had online may notice my absence then again going AFK for weeks was not uncommon, and I was only a minor player. They would be on right now, getting ready to slaughter unsuspecting players, I''d be at the rear for support or the recon as cannon fodder to attract enemy fire¡­. good times¡­ I could have made it to the gold ranks by now, not that it would matter to anyone.


    It''s so quiet in here, even though I had no real friends, sometimes overhearing their conversations would make me feel like I was involved¡ªnot that I ever did this intentionally but ambient noise was far better than this dead silence, I couldn''t even hear the air-conditioning or maybe because eardrums were busted along with the rest of my body.


    <h6>''I don''t deserve to die, to be free''</h6>


    Yet, living was a pointless waste of resources


    <h6>''I just...want to feel okay for once''</h6>


    <h6>''I''m tired...and hungry''</h6>