Haig
As usual, I was walking down the concrete street when I noticed that the words "aligning structures" were always there, standing erect on both sides of me. Listening to my own heartbeat and counting my own footsteps, so that the tiredness will change into solace.
Everything seemed to have changed. It was quite weird, because there was no one outside their huge houses, and the doors and windows were all closed and locked. It made me think that I am the only person that's living in this place. Even the beggars that were just sitting on the street-side before, have disappeared.
I don't care what the other people will do. They have their freedom and it is their life. They are in charge of themselves. Maybe I am just thinking about this thing because I care. An emotional defense mechanism. I had learned that everyone has a responsibility to each other, their lives are adjoining, and no one can live without the others.
This question is always in my mind, 'What else I can do?' I know that I can do something in every situation. But if not, I can still hope that everything will be fine. Hope that my inference is not true and my friend will be alright soon.
Eventually, I arrived near to the gate of my friend's house. There are many people inside the gate. Some are just sitting on the green grass on their lawn. Maybe they are all France's family, friends, acquaintances, etcetera. I felt ashamed to get inside. I do not even know their acquaintance that I needed to get there. I was going to continue walking when I heard that someone was shouting.
"France, your friend was here! Tell him to get inside."
I waited for a while to see France. Time was flying, but he did not show his face to me. So I decided to go home because the sun was going down on the horizon. I knew that I did not have any right to peep at the dead. I turned to leave when someone called my name. As I turned back, I saw France jogging towards the gate.
"Haig!" France half-shouted while walking towards me.
He is wearing baggy black slacks, a printed white shirt, and white slippers. His short, curly hair was bouncing and his watch had fallen down on the grass as he jogged. He went back and picked up his watch on the grass, and then he continued walking towards me.
"Sorry bro, I made you wait too long." He wore his watch.
"No, that is just okay," I replied. Grasping the strap of my backpack. I am thinking that France is in low spirits right now, because I can see that there is a little, but not much, sadness on his face. However, I am not sure about it. I also know that pain is not always in tears, sometimes it is present in smiles.
"Do you want to get inside?" he asked.
"For what?" I asked. Though I know what he means, he must not say those words because I don't want to get inside the coffin with his mother.
"To see my mother who is lying inside the coffin?"
"Um, France, I just want to convey my condolences."
"I did not lament as what you are thinking, because I knew that this day would come, and I was ready for it. You are better than my father, because you showed your face here, but my father, I don't know if he was flirting with his other girlfriend." France was serious while saying those words.
"Oh! I am sorry to hear that." I made a sad expression on my face. I am sad and guilty for everything, but for the thing that happened to my friend's family. I don't know if what happened to France's father, but I am sure that whatever happened, he's still his father.
I can hear the loud throbbing of my own heart, as it wants to jump out from my rib cage. My inference became stronger when France said those words. I still remember the conversation between the two women who were fighting about the man. It occurred to me that the woman I had killed and the mother of France are, without a doubt, the same. I am out of courage to see the face of France's mother. I know that I cannot bear to see the person that I bruised. May that woman forgive me, and may my friend forgive me too.
"I am so sorry for what has happened to your family."
"No, you did no wrong to me. Instead, I must be thankful to you."
This time, my guilt wants to swallow me. I don't know how to get rid of it. I need to find a way so that I can pass this trial, because everything might change in just the wink of an eye.
"Sorry bro, but I need to go now because the dusk is coming."
"Don't say sorry. It was my fault because I made you wait too long, and because of that, I must accompany you to your house."
"No need, I can bring myself home, especially now that it is getting dark. You must stay here. I can drop all the ghosts in my way."
"Are you sure? You are not scared of ghosts? Haha."
"I will catch them and bring in your front if you want." I tapped the back part of his shoulder and turned to leave. "Good bye."
"Ha-ha, but seriously, beware!" he half-shouted. "The killer is just looking there!"
"They will beware of me!" I shouted. "I will broil them. ..."
While walking down the streets, there were many things and questions that crossed my brain. Firstly, how can I kill the mother of the boy who cares about me? Secondly, how can I destroy one's family? Thirdly, how can I be so merciless and numb, though I know that I am not that kind of boy? Is it right to blame the old man for everything that is—or what is—happening? I know that I also made mistakes, which is why this thing is happening to me now, but I am victimized.
The evil you do follows you; the good you do returns to you! But now I don't know what to believe, because even I do not know if what I am doing is either evil or good.
In the eyes of nature and myself, it is clear that I am the most sinful person in the whole wide world. I can do nothing about it, but to hope that everything will be alright and I can't do wrong again. I am not sure what will happen next; I am not sure if I will be able to handle things anymore or if I will just collapse. Just like the rainfalls, when the clouds can no longer handle their weight, they will fall.
After a few minutes of walking, I reached my house. My parents had locked the door again. They really thought that someone was killing the people in our place. The sun had just set, and the dusk was coming towards me. I went towards the door and knocked on it. As usual, my mother would open the door and ask where I came from. But this time, I was wrong. It was my father who opened the door. I don't care who opens the door. I am happy as long as there is a door that will open for a sinner like me.
"Motherf*cker!" my father exclaimed. "Your child was late again!"
Did I make the greatest mistake of my life that my father would scorn me like this? I really did, so I must not feel like I am innocent if my father scorns me. What a hateful child I am! What a repulsive son! Maybe it would be better if I went away from this world.
Even the moon refused to shine because it didn't want to show itself to me. The light will be defeated and darkness will reign in this world. The most painful thing is that the reason was me.
My father is not totally a heartless man. What he was doing was just a way of showing care and worry. Scolding a child is just a way of disciplining them. He still has a heart that even though I do something wrong, he won't hurt me. He was so full of love that he could recognize even a small mistake that I made, but he did not know that I had made the greatest mistake of my life. I don't know what his reaction will be if he knows that I killed someone. Will he listen to my explanation? I really need to have courage before telling it to my parents.
I am afraid of hurting and killing. I am afraid of being imprisoned, afraid of doing something unlawful, and I am afraid of myself. I am afraid of the things that my body can do. The dark magic that was given to me was just a stroke of a stray curse.
Sitting on the chair, looking at the bowl of sweet-potato-chips that I made and placed on the wooden table at my front. Sometimes I will softly squeeze my nose, catch the flies that want to perch on the table, and put them inside the small jar. If all the problems in this world are just small as flies, I have already caught and squeezed them. I won't plan to put them inside the jar because there is a chance that they can escape from it. But the problem is still a problem, even if it looks like a fly. Sometimes they are difficult to catch, as problems are difficult to solve.
Cyril started to bark. I don't know what the reason is for her barking. Until I realized that there was a swarm of flies that were approaching me, I did not realize that they were not just a few. I heard their loud chattering, however. I was thankful because they did not attack me, they just stopped at my front. They seemed to be looking at me. But after a few seconds, they formed a whirling hole. This is disgusting! There is a very strong force that came from inside the hole that pulled me.
A few seconds elapsed after I heard the barking of Cyril. I felt dizzy as if something was spinning me around. The flies brought me to a place that I did not know. After that, the flies suddenly disappeared. I realized that everything had changed in just a few seconds. What else can I do? If everything already happened, it is better to find a way to go back.
I screamed in my brain, "Is it still morning here? I knew that in our place, it was already sundown. Peculiar! Maybe I was in the other country. I was on a concrete road, and there were many tall and big trees on both sides of the road. I don't know what kind of trees these are, because I have never seen these kinds of trees before.
Maybe it was just my hallucinations. I stood up and gave myself a slight slap on the face. It was not just a slight slap because I felt a bit of pain. That kind of boy I am, if I don't want my feet to hurt, I am going to think that it was just a slight slap, though what I felt was different. Everything was really not a hallucination, it was real. I have mixed feelings. I don't know if I will be happy or cry about being in this place.
While walking on the concrete road that is covered with withered cherry blossom. Ahead, there were many huge houses and buildings. It was a city. For sure, the people that are living here are wealthy. But what am I doing here? Why do the flies bring me here without any clear reason? Those flies are so ruthless, maybe they are vassals of darkness or vassals of the bitchy old man.
My problems became more and more after that. Until now, he had not shown himself to me. Maybe he smelled that I would cut him into pieces if he showed himself to me again.
This place is so beautiful and quiet just like in a game (Sakura). But for me, the most beautiful place in the world is not in this world. Maybe that place was just an imaginary one. A place where you can see nothing but emptiness. There are just limited people who can see what is beyond that void. There are just a limited number of people that see the hidden paradise.
When I was younger, most of the evenings I would climb and lay down on my bed, with my head perched on my mother's thigh. The best part of those nights was when my mother would tell me a story, a story that until now has reverted in my mind. She will always start on the word, "Far and beyond this world, there was a place, a place where you could see nothing but a void."
After my mother said those words, I could not fight my drowsiness anymore, because it seems that everything is singing a lullaby to me. Until now, it has made me more confused about the next words that my mother would tell me before bed or when I am sleeping. Because I am not asking my mother about unimportant things, I also did not ask her about the whole story. I know that she only told me the story to make me fall asleep and nothing else.
After a few minutes of taking the concrete road, I saw that there was a park ahead. Maybe I can go there to stop for a while because I am tired of walking. So I went towards it and sat down on the white bench there. Maybe I can't go back to my parents anymore. I know that I can't survive in this place alone. I don't have any family, friends or acquaintance here. What should I do now?
In my brain I screamed, "I was lost!" Holding my head firmly, and messing with my short hair takes a year before it grows or becomes long. This thing too. I was curious about why my hair takes a long time before it grows. Nobody had cut it since I was born, but it had only grown an inch after sixteen years. My father's hair is like mine. It also takes a year before it grows. That's why we are not cutting it, or else we will become bald-headed.
Sometimes I think that I was not born in this world, that I am not a normal human, that I was born in another world, a world where abnormal people live. A place where there are no accidents and nobody dies, where everyone lives happily and peacefully forever.
There are many differences between me and the people that are living in this world, from how my hair grows to the things that are happening to me. It seemed that many of the impossible things that I witnessed were magic. I can not believe that this is how magical my life is. But alongside that magic, there was a hidden bad effect on me, effects that could not be seen by just looking at my face. It was hidden in my every smile.
But I am now in the place that I don't even know. There is no magic that will bring me back to the place where I was born. There is no magic in times of sorrow. Magic will only show up in times of happiness. It is just the same with those plastic friends that will only sense if there is something that they can get from you. Having a loyal friend from a flattering foe is preferable to having one who only became your friend for money.