《Stories From the Beginning》


 First Stop

    Sten glanced subtly over her shoulder. Good, that bonehead clerk still had her eyes glued to that soccer game on the television. In a flash, Sten quietly turned around the corner of the snack aisle and came to the refrigerated drinks. She only needed three plastic water bottles of Fresh Frobands. Swipe them and head out the door - easy enough, right? Her fingers already rested on the cold handle of the refrigerator. She wanted to pry it open, but her arm betrayed her and froze in place. Of all the times for her stupid conscience to finally kick in, why did it have to be now?


    Some hoarse yelling came from the cashier, shaking Sten back into focus. People who do not make decisions die on the field, she muttered. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed two cold, nippy bottles. As soon as she closed the fridge, she snapped in the opposite direction and briskly walked towards the door. Was she being a little hasty? Yes, her shoes clicked on the ground as if she were going down a fashion runway. The cashier needed to stay fixed on that screen. Remembering her training, Sten forcefully slowed herself till she was completely inaudible, gliding forward on the white tiles.


    Looking up at the corner, she saw the cashier through the convex mirror. Whichever team the clerk was rooting for was winning; her eyes were locked only a few centimeters from the screen. This was perfect. She probably wouldn¡¯t even notice Sten leaving.


    The exit was right there! No one was going to stop her, even if they tried.


    Sten made a quick peek around the edge of the aisle. Summoning all her wits and strength, she walked as quickly as possible while remaining inconspicuous. It is harder than it looks, making muted long strides, and holding your breath for minutes But it was certainly worth it - Sten¡¯s cold fingertips finally wrapped around the metal handle of the door. She began to slowly push it, being careful not to ring the tiny doorbell hanging at the top. The cool summer evening breeze blew around her cheeks and played with her hair, beckoning her to come outside.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    As if a spirit suddenly possessed her, Sten suddenly reached into her coat pocket, pushing past the crumpled pieces of paper and lint, and found some coins at the bottom. She suddenly froze, about three-fourths of the way out the door. Looking now at the silver coins at the center of her hand, Sten¡¯s brows furrowed as she noted that there was just enough to pay for all the bottles. A small grumble escaped her lips: ¡°Tenebrific.¡±


    ***


    Sten woke up to the hot morning sun stinging her face through her thin blanket. Throwing off the sheet, she saw the sky was a bright, clear, cloudless blue above the flat grassy plains and fields. After months of rain and thunder, there was finally some good weather. Sten stood up, dusted her clothes, and stood under the sun. The sun must be relished for as long as possible.


    It was also a good morning to continue her road trip. Sten reached into her pockets again and pulled out a crumpled paper, full of written addresses. She had been to most of them, but at each one, she did not find who she was looking for. There were still two more addresses left, but they were also the furthest away from the orphanage she had ever been. But the right address is out there, in one of those places. Anyway, a cross-country road trip was better than any day in that rotting orphanage - even if it meant she did not have money left for a decent breakfast.


    Thinking about food made Sten¡¯s stomach suddenly growl. Folding the paper back into her pocket, Sten plucked a water bottle and took a controlled gulp. It was not much, but she needed a distraction from her hunger. Was using the money she was saving for breakfast a bad decision? And when did she care enough to do the morally right thing? Perhaps she was not thinking straight because of the hunger. No, there was something else¡­


    ¡°People who do not make decisions die on the field¡±, muttered her father, ¡°and those who make the wrong decision die regardless.¡±


    Perhaps it is better not to think about it too much.


    She then walked over to the rusty scooter she hid under some tarpaulins, and threw them off. Sten started the engine, causing the whole scooter to violently shake and creak. She hopped on the leather seat, put on her goggles, and took off down the long, dusty road to her next destination.

 Broken Chain

    I knelt, feeling the summer heat rising from the pavement against my legs. I examined my bike''s chain - It hung limp on the gear, again. Perhaps I strained it again going uphill? I could only scratch my sun-scorched hair in frustration. I took the greasy chain in my fingers and attempted to jam it back in place on the gear. Slowly I hooked each groove in the chain against the gear teeth and turned the bike pedal after each successful hook. Suddenly the whole chain slipped off violently again and hung limp once more. I put my hand to my forehead, accidentally wiping some of the green-black grease on me.


    Suddenly I felt something burning hotter than the heat of the sun on my nape  - the glare of my younger brother, Rennard. He stood straight and stiff like a shadowy stone pillar, his arms crossed tightly and a frown scrawled across his face. I knew why he was not in a good mood; this was about the third time this problem happened this week, inconveniently happening in the middle of the road. I decided not to mind him and try again with the chain, but I could feel Ren¡¯s patience wearing thin. He probably had half a mind to start biking away by himself.


    Ten minutes later, I still had yet to fix the chain. In frustration, we decided to take a moment to rest under the cover of a nearby fig tree to escape the sun. I put my heavy backpack and violin case to my side carefully, forgetting that I still had grease on my hands and getting them dirty. I then looked over my right shoulder to see Ren reading one of his favorite books, A Confounding Undertaking. I tried to keep count of how many times he completed it, but I resigned after his 87th reading last year. This time, however, I noticed that his eyes were not even scanning the pages, but staring straight into them. I shook my head, knowing that he was probably more frustrated now than earlier.


    I turned to ask him if he was alright - but he sharply exhaled to stop me. ¡°I¡¯d prefer if you just don¡¯t. You¡¯re being very distracting.¡±


    Honestly, this kid was this close to being told on. Patience, Reisender. Patience for your brother. I wiped my palms on the long, scratchy grass, grabbed Ren¡¯s book from his hold, and set it down beside him. I noticed he was still staring forward.


    ¡°Hey, Ren,¡± I said, trying to coax him into a conversation. ¡°I know you¡¯re not having a good time right now, especially because we¡¯re kind of stuck here for the time being. Sorry that I broke the bike again, by the way-¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re sorry you should be back working on the bike,¡± Rennard muttered loudly, not even looking at me. ¡°If we took the time to find a quicker way around here, our bikes wouldn''t always break down.¡±


    I scoffed, crossing my arms. What was his problem? ¡°Look, it¡¯s not my fault you had to come with me to violin practice. Besides, Mom said to stick with this route because it was the safest. And for the record: if I had things my way, I would have left you at home instead. Do I have to keep bringing this up?¡±


    Ren tilted his head back, gazing upwards in exasperation. ¡°I¡¯m 10 years old. I can take care of myself at home without the parents there.¡±


    ¡°After your last stunt in the kitchen? I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    Ren then snapped his eyes in my direction, brimming with anger. He opened his mouth as if he were going to retaliate - but slowly closed it. Looking away, he snatched his book from the ground and opened it by flicking his wrist forward. I shook my head; perhaps I pushed too hard this time. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    We sat in an irritated silence, trying to avoid each other mentally. I wanted to say something to him, I genuinely did. But Ren¡¯s mind and heart were always as unbreakable as nails, and he often only wanted to hear what he wanted to. I clenched my fists, trying to think how I could correct him. Was correction what he needed? No, there was something deeper. Maybe some words of comfort? Perhaps, but he often hated those more. Besides, what could have put him in such a mood in the first place?


    I looked back at Ren, though he completely changed - he clutched his book tighter and closer to his face, his nails digging into the leather covering. There was a faint sound of sniffling from behind the pages as well. There must be something that was hurting him then, and it must be horrendously terrible if he was hurting this badly. But what should I say to him?


    No, you can¡¯t leave him hanging here, said my quiet inside voice. Just be there for him.


    I shuffled slowly beside Rennard, careful not to look at him. I was still unsure what to say, but I knew he needed to hear something. I took a deep breath - and I mustered up the courage to speak.


    ¡°Ren-¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for you to speak,¡± Renna stammered, glancing in my direction. ¡°Can you just get back to fixing the bike-¡±


    Gently, I put my hand on his shoulder, quieting him. ¡°Listen, please. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re going through, or what is making you hurt. But I know you¡¯re hurting, and I feel you. I know you feel angry about it. And yes, you don¡¯t want to be here at this moment. And right now that¡¯s ok.¡±


    I look at him intently, seeing the pain in his eyes. I put my arm around his shoulder, offering some comfort. He was as stiff as a rock, though I felt him tilt slightly into my hug. We stayed like this for a long while, for as long as he needed it.


    After a while, he pulled away and picked up his book. He still looked sullen, however. ¡°Do you want to talk about it, Ren?¡± I asked him quietly.


    Ren looked down at the book, stained with tears. He wiped the pages carefully with his palm, then slammed the cover shut. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it right now if that¡¯s okay,¡± he said with a wavering but more confident voice. ¡°It¡¯s just complicated right now.¡±


    I nodded, giving him some space. At least we were back on good terms - for now.


    We slowly began packing our bags again and slinging them over our shoulders when we realized my bike chain wasn¡¯t fixed yet. Scratching my hair, I threw my backpack off again and made ready to make another attempt at it. Before I could even touch the chain, Rennard walked over and held the bike upright and the pedals still for me. He looked at me and gave me a small nod. Was he trying to repay the favor? Or is he trying to get this over with? I was not certain, but I was glad for the assistance.


    A good fifteen minutes later full of sweat and greasy fingers, we finally slipped the chain back on the gear. In a show of satisfaction, Rennard slapped the pedal down, making it spin with a melody of satisfying clicking and creaking.


    ¡°Fixed for now,¡± muttered Ren quietly. I could tell from his tone that he was happier, at least.


    We then hopped back on our bikes and began pushing uphill once more above the roasting pavement and under the unrelenting blasting sun. Ren and I did not exchange words, focusing only on pumping our legs up and down and maintaining our breath. I could tell he was still frustrated with what happened earlier, but I think we had the same thoughts running through our minds: we were somewhat glad that I was with him, and he was with me. Besides, I would not want him anywhere else - especially not in the kitchen again.

 Ardmas

    Neline watched the small raindrops slide across her window til the rushing wind whisked them away. The gray skies above reflected her mood after her last day at basketball tryouts was cut short. She had a genuine chance at making it into the team; she might as well have been in it already. But her mother had to step in and pull her as she was in the middle of the final shooting drills.


    ¡°You told me you would hang out with a friend, not go to the basketball tryouts.¡± her mother had snapped at her daughter at the gym parking lot earlier.


    The young teen shrugged as she crossed her arms. ¡°I mean, I did hang out with my friend Jasmine. At the basketball tryouts.¡±


    And that was how Neline got herself confined to the house for the entire weekend.


    Both mother and daughter barely talked for the rest of the trip home. As they pulled into the driveway, Neline rushed inside, threw her jersey into the laundry bin, tripped up the stairs, and slammed the bedroom door. She dropped herself on her messy bed, threw her bed sheets on herself, and curled up.


    And there it goes, she thought to herself. The one dream I wanted for myself. Gone in a flash.


    Neline blinked, then stared blankly into the dark corner of her room. Normally, the afternoon light lit her room from corner to corner brilliantly, shining off the fuchsia-painted walls. This was not the case today, with everything from the top down washed in a dreary, sickening purple.


    For the first time, she had no tears or screams to offer; only an ear-ringing silence remained. For once, she felt numb to the unreasonable demands and indirect insults of her mother. She shook her head, trying to throw out all the thoughts in her head, not wanting to think about anything. But she could not stop the waves of anger, frustration, and loss from invading her mind. The young teen was reduced to nothing more than a hopeless mess.


    A hopeless mess? Neline frowned, disappointed with herself. That was the first time she had ever had such a thought. Was her situation so hopeless that she let these depressing thoughts dominate her mind?


    No, she should not surrender too easily to her mother''s demands. Neline scanned around her room for ideas, a solution to get her back into basketball. Her eyes then settled on the laptop, on the table opposite her bed. She shrugged; there was a mostly foolproof solution in it, but it was also the most frustrating.


    She snatched the laptop from the tabletop and flicked it open. Her eyes squinted, trying to adjust to the screen''s bright light. A document appeared, covered with thousands of words, photographs, numbers, and statistics. The first page of the document showed the title in bold capital letters: ¡°A Thorough Study on the Study of Socioeconomic Impacts of Left-Handed Rats on Right-Handed Public Workers in Restrooms.¡±


    This paper was originally a simple summer school assignment; a research paper discussing a local economic issue of her choice. It was going to be a breeze, taking three days to complete. Until her mother learned about it and pushed her to take it more seriously. Now, because of her mother¡¯s persuasions, she had to alter the topic to accommodate the section for rats (to make it sound more complex). To make it worse, she also needed it printed and submitted to the mayor¡¯s office in three weeks.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be serving the community,¡± Neline repeated her mother¡¯s words. ¡°Also, you could be rich and famous on the side. Sure, like anyone cares about left-handed rats.¡±


    Regrettably, this was the best solution Neline could think of on short notice. The sooner she finished the paper and had it squared away on the mayor¡¯s desk, the earlier she could be freed from this horrid assignment. But more importantly, she could use it as leverage to convince her mother to get back into basketball. As much as she hated the thought, there was no other alternative.


    And so that is what Neline did. She lost herself in the repetitive cycle of researching rats online, jotting her notes, and typing the results in the document. Now and then she would take a tiny nibble at the half-melted chocolate she kept hidden in her pockets, but never once did she look away from the screen. Her whole future hinged on this research paper.


    Over time, she slowly felt her eyes straining from behind their sockets. She noticed also a persisting ringing in her ears and her lips had begun to dry and crack. The strange symptoms only grew more intense the longer she kept working, now accompanied by feeling lightheaded and seeing spirals.


    But no, she could not succumb now! Neline shook her head and kept typing, using every bit of energy she had left in her body, pounding each key on her laptop. Whatever it took, she needed to finish as much as she could before evening. Now was the time to show her mother what she could do!


    Her anger and grit certainly gave her the boost she needed, her body fully awakened. She felt a hundred-ton load lifted off her back. Neline felt more focused on the screen, getting closer to it till the white light filled her vision - as if she was in the screen itself! The world around her was filled with bright light and spiraling black letters, spinning faster than her eyes could keep up with.


    There was something in the whirlwind of light, trying to grab her. Neline was blinded, but she felt something large and cold grab her from the back of her skull. Suddenly she was yanked forward and pulled closer and deeper into the freezing light.


    Neline then shot up, her forehead covered in a cold sweat and her breathing heavy. She rubbed her eyes and looked around; she was back in her dark bedroom. It was only a fever dream¡ªperhaps all the writing and worrying fatigued her more than she thought.


    The paper! Neline furiously smashed the on button of her laptop and opened the document. She scanned each line carefully, hoping that nothing was ruined while she fell asleep. Thankfully, the autosave feature saved her this time. Everything is still in its proper place.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    But wait, there was still something wrong. Sitting back up, she glanced at the tiny number that indicated how many pages she had, about forty-three. She shoved her palms into her face, frustrated. In the time spent writing, she only completed a third of the required amount of pages.


    ***


    Around this time, the sun had almost completely set, indicating that dinner was halfway through. Neline barely made it downstairs before her mother decided to put the food away. She sat at the opposite end of the table from her mother, looking down at the sticky, lukewarm macaroni. The two did not speak a word, though an aura of disdain and resentment circled the dining area.


    Neline then returned upstairs for a quick bath, jumped into her pajamas, and again flopped on her bed. She stared upwards at her white ceiling, unable to sleep. Her mind still wandered to the overbearing weight of the research paper, unable to shake it off. At this rate, there would be no time and strength for any personal activities.


    She might as well give up on the basketball dream. Thanks a lot, Mom.


    There was nothing she could do about it right now. She began to distract herself and think about other things, such as that cute boy from school, the results of the basketball tryouts, and what her friends Rennard and Reisender were up to. Of course, there was that strange dream she had earlier. Thinking about it brought back the spine-tingling cold that made her headache. If it were not for that disgusting paper of hers, she would not be stressing so much that it would give her nightmares. Perhaps that is why she could not sleep; she was afraid of having to think about her work.


    Neline sat up in bed, resting her chin on her knees. ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯m going to sleep like this.¡± She then glanced at her laptop. ¡°There¡¯s no way either that I¡¯m continuing that paper the way I am.¡±


    She grabbed her laptop and opened the document one more time, staring at the painfully endless lines of words. There had to be a better way of writing this besides cheating. What she needed was a way to find and organize information faster.


    There may be a solution online. Neline typed the keywords ¡°something to help me find and organize information faster¡± on the search bar, and began scrolling through the results. Unfortunately, between the self-help articles and AI-generating tools, there was not much to go on.


    ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± sighed Neline. She slammed her head down on the keyboard, typing a long line of F''s on the search bar.


    Just as the laptop reached its 117th F, it let out a notification bell chime. A small red dot appeared in her email. Neline tilted her head, perplexed. Why would someone email her this late at night?


    She clicked on the small envelope symbol, opening the mail she had received. It was from Bright Minds Initiatives, a company she had never heard of before. The letter, though technically an advertisement, seemed mysteriously personalized to her:


    ¡°Dear Neline:


    Hello! Have you ever had difficulties with your schoolwork? Are you looking for something to help you find and organize information faster? Look no further!


    Our latest tool, Ardmas, is a browser extension that helps you locate resources for your project! Just type in your research topic and Ardmas will automatically search and suggest any closely related information 97.55555% faster and more accurately than any existing search engine.


    With a premium subscription, you can also put down your notes and Ardmas will assist in keeping all your content tidy and organized, all at the push of a button.


    Try premium with a 28-day free trial! We hope you become astonished and absorbed by our product!


    Sincerely,


    The Bright Minds Team¡±


    Below the letter was an installation link, highlighted within an embossed orange rectangle.


    Neline narrowed her eyes, reading the email again for the third time. ¡°Right, totally not suspicious. these search engine corporations really need to stop spying on user data for better suggestions. Nevertheless, it¡¯s an interesting suggestion¡­¡±


    She clicked on the link, which immediately redirected her to the website, and installed the extension on her web browser. Afterward, she opened the document containing her paper, unsure what to expect next. But nothing occurred on the document; no changes, alterations, or fancy technical stuff. In hindsight, she may have hit that install button too enthusiastically. She should have thought it through a bit more; the tool might be a scam or malware.


    As soon as this thought entered her mind, a small white chatbox appeared on the right of her screen. There was a tiny icon of an anthropomorphic lightbulb on the top right of the box. A cartoony speech bubble floated above the lightbulb, saying ¡°Hello, I am Ardmas! What are we searching for today?¡±


    Neline lightly tilted her head to the right again in curiosity. ¡°Well, since we made it this far, we might as well try it out.¡±


    To test, she typed down a single line into the chatbox: ¡°Looking for research papers related to left-handed rats¡±. She then hit enter, and sat back, watching the throbber spiral as potential results loaded in. However, in her mind, she knew that there was no logical way this was going to work. Besides, who would want to do a research paper on left-handed rats anyway?


    Proving her wrong again, the chatbox opened to a window that displayed hundreds of documents related to left-handed rats. The documents at the top were organized to be the most relevant to the research paper topic. Each also had a textbox under it that contained individual quick summaries and information about how relevant it was to the research.


    Neline was at a complete loss for words, dumbfounded why someone would want to research left-handed rats. But also, she was surprised that she found them at all, complete with summaries and notes. This was too good to be true. All the information she ever needed now lay before her like magic. Hundreds of hours intended for needless research were saved by Ardmas in mere seconds. The only thing left now was to organize and write all the information into her paper, and it would be wrapped in a pretty box on the mayor¡¯s desk in no time. It was nothing short of a miracle.


    Returning to her document, Neline began listing the names and summaries so that she could begin researching and writing down the information. She laughed to herself, thinking about all that had happened. Sure, there was no denying the absurdity of the tool suspiciously catered to her, but all she wanted right now was to get this dumb project over with and get back into basketball. She would show her mother who would trump this time around.


    ***


    Having been able to get a large amount of work completed smoothly, Neline was able to retire for the night peacefully with a light smile on her face. A long, frustrating day came to a somewhat happy ending. There were no strange dreams this time of cold light and monsters. She was finally able to rest and recover for the big day tomorrow. But for now, Neline snuggled deep under her blanket, enjoying the dark, quiet night.


    Her laptop was squared away on her desk, still warm from all the work Neline put into it earlier. Its black screen reflected the rising and falling of the blanket and the mumblings of its owner as she slowly drifted off to sleep. Just like her, it could finally be laid to rest and cool off for the night. Its fans quieted, and its systems began shutting themselves off.


    Though for another, the night was not over quite yet. The laptop¡¯s fans quietly whirred again, bringing it back to life. Its monitor flashed on, displaying blinking red and white colors on all thousands of pixels. The white pixels grew and clawed across the screen, spreading like a virus. It continued to spread till it covered everything, bursting intense blinding light across the room. The laptop was completely out of control, as the squealing whirr of the fans pierced the thick air. The keys typed themselves; black-green letters scrawled across the screen, with the words ¡°research paper¡± ¡°left-handed rats¡± and ¡°public workers¡±.


    Just as quickly as the laptop came to life, its fans suddenly stopped dead and its monitor closed. It shut down completely, filling the room with darkness and silence. Neline was unbothered as she turned over in her sleep, having the sweetest of dreams.