A story.

As the minutes ticked away, the weight of time pressed upon me. The hospital's strict visiting hours policy loomed over my heart, threatening to deny me the precious moments I yearned for. The clock on my wrist displayed 18:58, a cruel reminder that I was running out of time. The second time I looked at my clock I realized I wouldn't be able to make it in time to see my mom today.

Every visit to her bedside held a bittersweet familiarity. For nearly four years, I had faithfully spoken to her, pouring my heart out in a one-sided conversation. Her unresponsive state, trapped within the confines of a coma, didn't deter my determination. I believed that somehow, my words would reach her dormant consciousness, and one day, she would awaken. The persistence within me refused to waver, propelling me forward with unwavering devotion. So, I vowed to continue visiting her, to be there when she finally opened her eyes and returned to me.

My father, a politician whose ideology I once revered, had amassed a multitude of adversaries due to his unyielding convictions. In my youthful naivety, I regarded his beliefs as righteous and just. However, as time unfolded, a different truth emerged. His approach only sowed discord, leaving a trail of animosity in his wake. Did his actions truly leave a lasting impact on the world? Regrettably, the answer is a resounding no. Instead, his life was cut short by a tragic accident, leaving my mother in a coma, a victim of the aftermath. Yet, a growing conviction within me whispered of a grander scheme at play. It was as if someone had meticulously orchestrated their demise, and I harbored the certainty that the truth lay waiting to be unveiled.

A peculiar emptiness engulfs me, an absence of the expected anger and sorrow that should accompany such a tragic loss. It leaves me feeling disoriented, disconnected from the natural rhythms of human emotions. Revenge, a concept that often consumes the minds of those wronged, seems alien to me. Instead, I traverse the days with an eerie semblance of normalcy, as if life insists on moving forward despite the void within me. Yet, amidst this hollow existence, the name of the one responsible for this tragedy etches itself into the recesses of my mind. It serves as a constant reminder, a silent promise that I will not let the truth fade into obscurity.

After that accident, I stood apart from the crowd, different from the people I encountered, but not in a way that brought admiration or praise. The absence of a phone marked me as an anomaly, a stranger to the digital realm that consumed their lives. While others found solace in games and the joy of socializing, I harbored a distaste for such pursuits. My desires were simpler, grounded in a longing to lie still, gazing upward at the ceiling, lost in the tapestry of my own imagination. Yet, this daydreaming was a luxury I couldn't afford, for the weight of responsibilities demanded my attention. Day after day, I toiled tirelessly, bound by the necessity to work incessantly, all in pursuit of basic needs like rent and sustenance.

Unable to see my mother that day, I boarded a bus in frustration. Seated next to me was an elderly man, his phone resting precariously in his hands, vulnerable and unattended. In a fleeting moment of desperation, I succumbed to temptation and swiped the device. It was a desperate act born out of my own needs, a stark reminder of my unrelenting desire to be like everyone else. But fortune did not favor me that day, as the old man stirred awake, frantically searching for his misplaced phone. I had no choice but to abandon the bus, despite the long journey still ahead to reach my home. Stranded in an unfamiliar place, I instinctively reached into my pocket, only to discover that it too had been stolen. With my house hours away, I sought solace in a nearby park, finding temporary respite as I lit a cigarette, alone in my thoughts. The phone I had taken incessantly rang, its notifications clamoring for attention. Curiosity eventually overcame me, and I discovered a multitude of news articles discussing an approaching meteor, its proximity to Earth mentioned with a sense of urgency. Yet, I found myself detached, indifferent to the impending cosmic spectacle unfolding before us.