《Children of Gambit》


 False Solitude

    Monday Again


    Monday again. Monday always comes too soon.


    I never liked the start of the week¡ªtoo noisy, too rushed, too predictable in its unpleasantness. The thought of dragging myself through early classes while the world around me buzzes with energy I don''t share has never appealed to me. Some people find motivation in it, but I just see it as another cycle repeating itself, as if the days are locked in an endless loop.


    You might be wondering if I have friends¡ªsomeone to break the monotony, to make Mondays less dreadful, to pull me into the world I so often avoid. The answer is simple: I don''t. Not because I can''t, but because I choose not to. And before you misunderstand¡ªI don''t hate people. I just don''t see the appeal in being around them all the time.


    It''s strange, isn''t it? How some people thrive in social interaction, how they move from one conversation to another as if it''s the most natural thing in the world. I''ve tried it before, back when I was younger. I thought, maybe if I spoke more, if I let myself be noticed, I''d feel like I belonged somewhere. But it never felt right.


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    I learned something about myself back then¡ªI prefer distance. Solitude isn''t just a preference; it''s a necessity. Some people need an escape from loneliness, but I need an escape to loneliness. A place where I don''t have to deal with forced conversations, unwritten social rules, or the unpredictability of people.


    Because that''s the real problem¡ªpeople are complex.


    They have motives, ambitions, hidden layers of thought that can contradict everything they claim to stand for. They say one thing and mean another. They lie, sometimes without realizing it. They chase after things that might destroy them. And yet, they call it life.


    I''ve come to accept that I might finish my high school years in solitude. It doesn''t bother me as much as it should. People expect teenagers to crave friendships, to seek approval, to build lifelong connections. I suppose that''s normal. But what if I''m not? What if I''ve simply seen enough to know that forcing something unnatural will only end in disappointment?


    Still, if I''m being honest¡ªI do want to connect with people. It''s just¡­ difficult. I overthink things, I hesitate when I shouldn''t, I stop myself from saying what I actually want to say. I withdraw before I even give others the chance to understand me.


    Maybe I''m afraid.


    Afraid that if I get too close, I''ll come to rely on someone. That I''ll trust them, only to realize I was wrong about them all along. Maybe that''s why I suppress my curiosity, why I act uninterested even when something truly fascinates me. If I ask too many questions, I might care too much. And caring too much is dangerous.


    I wouldn''t recommend my way of living to anyone. It''s not as easy as it seems. But it''s what makes sense to me.


    Maybe, one day, I''ll figure it out. Maybe, one day, I won''t see people as unpredictable puzzles but as something worth figuring out.


    But for now? It''s Monday again. And I have a long week ahead of me.

 Weird Morning

    Clack. Clack. Clack.


    The soles of my shoes dragged against the cold, stone floor, my sluggish steps echoing faintly in the empty hallway. Mondays again. I hated them. If I had it my way, I''d still be buried under my blanket, far away from the dreary walls of this school.


    The building had a gothic feel¡ªtall arched ceilings, narrow corridors, and dim lighting that made everything look like a setting straight out of a detective novel. It had a certain charm, I''ll admit, but that didn''t change the fact that I didn''t want to be here.


    As I turned a corner, a girl brushed past me, her pace hurried, her brows furrowed in clear frustration. I recognized her from my class, though her name slipped my mind. She clutched her shoulder bag tightly, her knuckles white from the force.


    Huh. Someone''s not having a great morning.


    I considered asking what was wrong, but by the time I turned my head, she was already gone, disappearing into another hallway. Shrugging off the thought, I reached the door to my classroom and pushed it open, my head still half-turned in her direction.


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    Then I paused.


    Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, casting long golden streaks across the floor. Outside, the school grounds basked in the morning glow, making everything look almost... peaceful.


    Almost.


    Because then my brain caught up to something odd¡ªthe classroom was empty. Not a single student in sight.


    I frowned and stepped forward, my eyes landing on the whiteboard. Scrawled across it in marker was a message:


    "Students of Class 2-Middle, there will be no classes today."


    I blinked.


    Once.


    Twice.


    Then, before my brain could fully process the gift the universe had given me, my bag hit the floor, and I broke into an impromptu victory dance. My arms flailed. My feet shuffled. I didn''t care how ridiculous I looked¡ªI had just been granted unexpected freedom, and I was going to celebrate it.


    "Don''t stop, get it, get it¡ª"


    "Well, well. This is a sight to behold."


    I froze. Every muscle in my body went rigid as a voice, smug and undeniably amused, spoke from behind me.


    "Don''t turn around," the voice continued, a laugh laced between their words. "I''ve got your little victory dance on my phone. One wrong move, and I might just upload it to the school forum."


    My eye twitched. Wait a damn minute¡­


    I turned anyway.


    There, leaning against the doorframe with a lazy grin, was Keith. His curly black hair glistened under the morning sun, his ember-colored eyes shining with mischief.