Peccadillo (A Small Yet Fatal Error)

02-January-2000

We read stories, watch movies, listen to music, to live a fantasy. A fantasy created by our own mind, where we are the main character. These fantasies are desires we wanted to fulfill but couldn't, or just fantasies for their own sake. I read stories too. The bad ones feel like nightmares. The good ones... let's just say I envy the main character because I wanted to be in his place.

But what was my story? My life? A nightmare. Everything I wanted to do, I couldn't. Any person I wished to be with left me. I was afraid of being left alone, and yet I was alone all along. My fantasy wasn't that of a main character but just a normal one; the one who isn't hated.

And like every story, mine had an end too. An end that was a mystery even to me. I burned in the fire of my own soul. Maybe it was my fears that overtook my consciousness. Or maybe it was my willingness to not accept myself anymore.

+++

What I thought would be the end of my story was actually the beginning of a new volume. I witnessed the life of a helpless child before me. I could not utter a word or move by my will. It felt like being stuck in his body for a very long time, perhaps since the time of his birth. These ten years were not pleasant.

The sights I witnessed, or rather the life I saw lived during this time, were sheer agony. He was sold off by his own mother, left alone at a young age without a parent, and taken into a daily existence of extreme torture. His blood drained to the last drop, his flesh cut hideously, burned again and again. However, there was something odd.

The more he was tortured, the more his soul seemed to focus energy on a central point. Was it because of the drug he was being injected with daily? Several children passed away from the dosage of that drug right before my eyes, but this kid, his energy became dense. Denser than the one I once had. More violent and aggressive.

"So, it's… stable, at least for now. But can we really call it a success?", 

"We've never seen core compatibility at this level, not in any other subject. It's the closest we've come to a breakthrough."

You're both ignoring the risks. We've barely scratched the surface on what this awakening could trigger long-term. We don't even know if this… 'stability' will last."

The core? Awakening? Is this small concentrated ball of energy the only reason they put this child in this state? Will he ever be able to maintain his sanity after what he's been put through? I doubt it. I pity this child. I may be living in him, but I wonder: does he create his own fantasies? If so, what kind of dreams does he have? To be saved by the mother who sold him off? To escape this place and see what's outside? Or to inflict the same pain on those who are responsible for this?

Or has he just given up?

His core was a dark mass. A core is the reflection of the very soul, and a dark mass reflects... nothing.

Somehow, it felt like this core was a part of me, an extension of my very essence. I focused my will on it, pouring every ounce of my determination into that small, dark mass. If I could just make it spark - a spark powerful enough to reignite his life.

Suddenly, a flicker erupted just below the core, engulfing it in an incandescent blue flame. This was no ordinary fire; it roared to life with an intensity that was both beautiful and terrifying. The flames danced wildly, illuminating the surrounding darkness with a captivating glow. I felt the energy shift, an extreme force radiating outwards as if the very fabric of our reality was tearing apart.

The lights flickered and died, collecting us into a surreal twilight, but then a brilliant flash of light erupted and in that very moment, time seemed to stand still, and the child and I shared one final, breathtaking vision. Then, in an instant, everything exploded.

+++

04-March-2020

♪♪~ Rise up, the day is calling,

Good vibes only, no fear of falling ~♪♪

"Already?" Why does the best sleep of your life always feel like an hour of blank pause?

I brought myself to sit on the side of the bed and grabbed the water bottle from the side table, gulping down the last few drops since I'd forgotten to fill it up last night.

No notifications except the calendar and daily news. Oh? There are calls I missed last night.

^RING^RING

I put the call on speaker as I stood up, arranging the bed.

"Yes?" A sweet voice came from the other end. It's always pleasant hearing her.

"You called last night?" I asked her. She's my friend, Meloni.

"Right—I was inviting you for a game, but I think you were asleep." Her voice was kind of hoarse; she must have just woken up.

"My bad. Was it a duo?" I asked.

"Yup, you missed a big opportunity to play alone with a hot and lonely girl."

"Ouch!" Is she making me regret it or just teasing me?

"Anyway—you're probably prepared for the class test, so the seat across from you is reserved by me," she said.

"You didn't study again? No problem."

"Ahan~ See ya," she said before disconnecting the call.

I help a lot of people in tests. I guess I'm a messiah after all.

After getting ready, I stuffed a rough notebook, a barely usable pen, and a half-filled water bottle into my laptop bag, the kind you get free with a laptop. I slung it over my right shoulder, switched my phone off, took a last look in the mirror to adjust my tie, checked my brown analog wristwatch, and slightly messed up my black curly hair to avoid looking like a chump. Then, I moved out and locked the door of my house.

My school wasn't far from my house, just a five-minute walk across the sectors. The clouds today were dark and heavy right above me. It might rain heavily, but I hadn't brought an umbrella. I didn't want to go back just to get one either—I'd rather get soaked on the way home than spend an extra two minutes fetching an umbrella right now.

School starts at seven in the morning, and at this time, not many people are out of the house except for students. After a quick five-minute walk, I reached the state-run government school named Brighton State School.

Kids in brown coats and dark gray pants or skirts, with white shirts and matching brown ties bearing the Brighton State symbol, were everywhere. Almost everyone looked tired, except for those in groups. The ones arriving by bus looked half-asleep, and those being dropped off by their parents at the back gate were clutching morning snacks.

Ignoring the chatter around me, I climbed the stairs to the fourth floor and reached my classroom. I headed straight to my usual spot, a last-row seat by the window. I set my bag on the chair next to me, as it was reserved, and sat by the window.

"Dark clouds, eh? Looks like we'll have a rainy day," I looked to my side and saw a boy with red hair, a gym physique, and no formal sense of clothing. He looked like a typical delinquent at first glance, but he was actually one of my best friends.

"Guess I'll be getting really wet today," I said, looking at him.

"Of course you'll get wet if you're thinking about me," he replied with a smirk.

"My nights go sleepless without a thought of you, and if I start to dream about you, I'm afraid just the thought of it turns me on." We looked at each other in silence for a moment before bursting into laughter. This was hilarious.

"This seat's reserved? Meloni, I presume?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"When are you going to propose to her, dude? Do you want me to steal her, then break her heart just so you can console her, make her see you in a good light, and fall for you?"

"A well-devised plan, but there's no need for that. I'm confident in myself," I said, then added, "And honestly, I don't think I should be taking advice from someone with nine ex-girlfriends."

"That's even more reason to take advice from me. I'm a good fisherman—I caught nine fish in a short amount of time. Releasing them back into the water was my choice. I'm a humble guy, you know," he replied.

"Of course, very humble," I mumbled as he gave me a thumbs-up, then pointed toward the classroom door before heading to his seat in the row opposite mine.

I looked over to the door and saw a girl with light caramel skin, curly hair, a cute face, and strikingly defined features. She was Meloni.