5 Amson, 17, "Wayward Cog"

"Hooo-- I've got a rush from that one" Tora howled excitedly. "What about you, Amson?"

Tora and I walked from PE, steadily approaching the hall where we separated for the day. Both drenched in sweat, huffs acted as an undertone to our conversation, but she seemed much more put together than I was. As I've explained, I'm out of shape, quite out of shape, but I'm confident I could change, given the right chance.

But, for now, I'm limited to nearly falling over like a rock.

Tora smiled as she reminisced about the game we'd just played only moments before, and I struggled to reciprocate, wheezing as I responded to her question. Being that everyone had different classes, we'd mutually decided to walk together for the majority of our trips to our next classes, which were, miraculously, not far apart. By some string of fate, we were always together, and only a few days of senior year, my perspective of her had changed.

She was more chill around me, but she wasn't not herself, which I liked. Holding onto the boyish personality, she was almost like another bro like Baun and I. So, when she offered to walk together, I was always down, eventually turning into something we committed to doing every day after PE.

This was usually my last interaction with friends for the day.

"Y-Yeah, of course." I said, trying to hide my exhaustion. "...You're amazing."

Tora's face turned beet red, something exciting her even further as we spoke. I looked around, but nothing was there to get such a reaction out of her. Her breathing spiked, and as we continued to walk, something about the air changed. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. She averted her eyes, rubbing the top of her back and allowing a quivering smile span from ear to ear.

"I-I'm surprised we even won, to be honest." She laughed, falling off as she looked at me again. "I swear."

"Why so modest, Tora?" I smiled, closing my eyes for a moment. "With you and Baun on the same team, you had it in the bag from the get-go."

As I opened my eyes, for a moment, I thought I saw Tora's arms reaching towards me, maybe to comfort me, but when I blinked, they were in her pockets, something only I did. I looked up at her face, her eyes set forward, and as the words left my mouth, I think I forgot to think.

"Hey-- uh, Tora." I started. "Next Friday, did you maybe want to--"

I tried finishing my sentence, but Tora dashed the opposite direction. I looked back for a moment, my last contact with any friends for the day, but all I could see was the back of her head. I turned back around with a strange feeling pulling my gut to the ground, a nagging, guilty feeling.

'Did I say something wrong?'

///

I sat on the top of my bed, the lamp just bright enough for me to see each corner of the room. As it did most nights, it took me a while to allow myself to close my eyes, usually staring at the ceiling and thinking to myself. But tonight was a little different. I turned on my side, looking into the wood of my drawer, the one that held most of my comics and such, and sighed.

'That look...' I thought, unsure of what I was thinking.

My mind wandered, but when it settled, I slammed by face into the pillow, rolling over on my belly.

'You nasty motherfucker...' I internally screamed.

With all vision clouded by the fabric of the pillow, I tried to allow myself to sleep, eventually dosing off.

///

"For our salvation, you must heed our warnings, great one." A voice called, the voice of an older man. "Someday, you will understand the importance of this power."

I sat in a daze, unmoving with seemingly nothing around me. It was a void, consuming all of which I knew and didn't know, flashes of memories of memories presenting itself to me. I failed to make sense of any of it; these were not my memories.

I had no doubt in my mind that what I saw was some sort of weird dream, but the more I thought about changing the dream into something more favorable, the more I felt that hopeless feeling. The feeling that everything around me is and will forever be outside of my control. There was no way of panicking in this state. I couldn't run, I couldn't speak or breath, nothing was there, but I knew something was happening to me, and fear crept throughout my motionless form.

"You know not what you do." A woman said. "Your misuse of your power will be your being's dying regret, one of flesh."

My mind racing, I tried to pull myself out of this illusion, growing tired without so much as moving an inch. I heard the breathing inside my brain, but the sensation of respiration never came, and it felt like my body itself was becoming mad. Slowly, I felt my consciousness break, piece-by-piece, until there was nothing to think, nothing to feel, and nothing around me except for the memories of whoever decided to thrust this torture upon me. I was forced to listen to their useless ramblings, all of which made no sense to my failing mind, but it was almost ceremonial, the event.

Now, I was convinced that whatever I was feeling was the work of the devil, and I was getting a taste of hell.

"Have you gotten your wish?" Another voice asked, strange yet familiar in a way.

As the words entered my mind, the room went white, and I finally felt myself. My mind and body were back, and with them, I realized. There was no dream, and there was no nothing to begin with. I was everything in this space.

Still, the space would not listen to the commands of my mind, but it didn't have to, as long as I was there, and the dreadful noise was gone. I focused on the space itself, breathing in and out until the ceiling slowly came into view, painting the white of my mind.

I was awake.