Behind the Camera

Another old post, ah the nostalgia...

I take a step back from life, and survey the world I live in. My world. My only world. This blue green mass in the dark expanse of space. This blue-green mass is the only thing in thousands of miles that supports life. Oh. I live there. That blue green mass. Where do you live? That blue green mass. That blue-green ugly, ugly mass. To be the person behind the camera, behind the camera, behind the camera is quite a pleasant feeling. You see the world as an ironically beautiful place. Where the ugliness of both the planet and human nature paints a Picasso right in front of your eyes. A dash of ethnic cleansing, a splash of genocide, a sprinkle of rape, a dab of manslaughter, the fine brush strokes of torture paint a breathtaking, bittersweet, lovely, lovely picture. Blood and gore do make good paints, and the world is like a never-ending canvas.

The detachment from the world only serves to remind you of the beautiful ugliness of us. The warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you see the picture painted for you is only amplified by watching us. We, the ones who deforest at a rate of football fields every second. We, the ones who would stick a blade in someone just for pieces of paper. We, the ones who butcher animals just to fill our stomachs. We, the ones who cause the deaths of millions of people every year because someone, somewhere doesn’t like something. To kill is human, does it make it a humane thing to do? For what we are, face the fact that we delight in the suffering of others. Face the fact that we yearn for blood and gore. Movie makers know that if they don’t portray sex, blood, violence or conflict, their movie will never, ever sell. We crave chaos. We crave the beauty of a blood-soaked battlefield. We crave the clash and conflict of human beings. We yearn for conflict and disaster. The worse someone’s plight is, the more interested people will be. That’s why we have reality TV, we have survivor wherever and Fear factor. The TV is just a box where you can satisfy your lust for chaos. That’s what makes it so interesting. Welcome to humanity, I’m sorry we don’t accept second-hand lives.

We were all brought up to go against our nature. We were brought up to know that we are all god’s little children. What if god doesn’t like you? What if gods abhors your ugly face? What if god never did want you? What if god just wanted to appreciate the beautiful ugliness of human nature? Let chaos reign I say. If god doesn’t like us, let it be. Why do we always have to do things to please him when he has never done anything for us? We did not ask to be born into this ugly world. I’m sorry, the gift of life is non-transferable. Shatter the Ten Commandments, denounce the 13 apostles, throw the crucifix out the window, assassinate the pope. We are not bounded by rules. We were born. And being born gives you the right to shine. And our ugly ugly selves will shine like a beacon in the blood-tainted sky. The picture we paint will be appreciated by all. Let us face who we really are. We are human, addicted to chaos, pain and suffering. We are human. We were born with the right to shine. Shine like a beacon. The beacon of fear power and absolute chaos. Absolution is our solution, none shall be spared. Let us walk the street with lust in our heart and blood on our hands. For we are humans, and humans we shall be.

Your being small does not serve the world. Rise from your obedient selves and be what you were meant to be. Original sin shows that we really are. When Adam ate the apple, he knew it was wrong but disobedience of a higher power delighted him. He was invigorated by the experience. As we are like Adam, we want to break free. Your adherence to rules only serves to remind you of your invisible leash around your neck – like a dog. Break free. Disregard authority and do what you were meant to do. We are god’s unwanted children, start acting like it. We shall burn our name on the skies and carve our name on the earth. You are not a part of the rat race. You do not do a 9-5 job till your 95. You are human, you were born free, not a slave to anyone. Do what you were meant to do. Taint the streets with blood. Make those who are less than human scream for mercy. Empower yourself with their cries. Power does not come to you easy. You must snatch it from those who cradle their soul and pacifies it with materialistic possessions and that paper you always see changing hands. Rip out their soul and trample it beneath your feet. Power means control. And control means the ability to destroy. We shall never be slaves to paper or plastic or metal. Take what you need from this world. It is your playground. We are human after all.

Emotions are distractions, conscience is nothing. To feel is a privilege we must compromise. The inability to feel sets you apart to become what you really are. To succumb to your feelings is a weakness displayed by all who have abandoned their humanity. They are slaves to feeling, slaves to conscience, slave to authority. We shall not be tainted by emotions or conscience. Conscience only promotes procrastination. With someone’s head in your left hand and a knife in your right hand, conscience should be the last thing on your mind. The world would not stop for you. You are a runner competing with the world. The world does not like you. The world will do whatever it takes to beat you. You are its enemy. Therefore you must control the world and reign. Nobody owes you a living. Forge a path for yourself or die trying. You are invincible. You are human. Paint the picture you were meant to paint. You are the artist. The world is your canvas. The palette is for your choosing. Paint, and produce your masterpiece. The requiem of souls will be played in your favour, the painter who painted the human race.

Bittersweet...

This is an old old post from a blog which is covered in dust... Since i've not updated for a while, let's put it here.

This is no dream. Neither is it a nightmare. But it happened. Through some sick, ironical act of god, it happened. My past was unceremoniously uprooted and played back in my mind. It was mildly pleasant, in a very warped way. I dreamt about my lost love. What did I do to deserve this? I have moved on with my life and you hit me with this? What kind of sadistic maniac are you? I won’t say I regretted it, in some bittersweet way. But neither would I say I wished it happened.

There was this girl, me, and I was chased by this man in a suit. I escaped from him time and time again, but he still persists, never giving up. I feared being caught and built myself a fortress. This fortress was like a cross between Toys R Us and a scene from SAW. Corpses were strewn all over the floor. Blood was splattered upon the pink wallpaper. The floor was strewn with a jumble of candies, lollipops, beautiful photo frames, syringes, flowers, black boxes and corpses. It filled the room till the door was half covered. I found myself on a contraption that looked like it came from kid sport. The room was half finished and yet the man burst in and demanded audience. And then I cried. I looked like Frankenstein’s bride. Scars covered my face like a white blanket. My eyes were large, round and full of sorrow. Blue. Hair was long and black like those ghosts back for revenge. I wore a white dress which swept the floor. My whole body was covered in scars; from my head to my heel; bruises and wounds from a long time ago. As I cried, black tears like those gaudy women who put too much mascara ran down my face. My tears, were black. They were as black as the velvet blanket covering the sky. They ran down my face leaving little streams of black ink which stained my face the blackest black you have ever seen. Little did I realize that the girl wasn’t me.

I was transported back in time. I am the man with the suit. I was in a scientific facility that looked like it came from some science fiction movie, with those cool wall panels and sliding doors that only serve to remind me of the synthetic nature of myself. We were involved in manufacture. We manufactured dolls. We manufactured dolls which I designed. They were my heart and soul. They were delightful. They looked exactly like the girl from before. I loved them. They had a sad smile on their face which made them look so mysterious. It’s like the dolls have been to heaven, hell and back to live through a second life on earth, knowing how their lives will end. Then suddenly, the manufacturing machine malfunctioned. One of my darling dolls slipped into the machinery and was being ripped apart by the gears. My heart dropped to my stomach. I prayed that it will be all right. I prayed that my darling would be saved from the horrors within. I tried to track its destruction from a monitor in my office which showed my doll with a bright red dot. I clasped and unclasped my hands. Needles of the pistons punctured its flawless skin repeatedly. I uttered a prayer as my doll finally came out and was sent to the reconstruction facility. Screams resounded from within and I panicked. I threw the door open and saw a scientist standing, looking shocked at the doll in the chair. Through some unknown reason, the doll had grown life size and was flawless. No puncture marks could be seen on her skin, no cuts or imperfections. All that was found was soft skin, as smooth as a baby’s. Her hair was a lustrous dark brown. She was wearing a white T-shirt and blue shorts. A little like those athletes you see from the girl schools. She had a gorgeous figure and when she looked at me, I cried. I drew rattling breaths and sobbed my heart out. She smiled at me with that angelic face and said, “I forgive you”. I fell to my knees and cried. That girl was my namesake, the love of my life. If only I could forgive myself.

Flashback, the doll in the Toys R Us cum room of torture. That lovely girl had turned into the abomination I saw right in front of me. I was desperate to change her back to that lovely girl. Rework the magic that made her the lovely girl I knew. My doing had caused her to become like this. It’s as though I was the machine, ripping her apart. Time is a coin you can only spend once. Time waits for no man. Time is our enemy. Although in my heart I knew I could never have her back, I prayed for a miracle. I prayed that she could come back to me just for a moment. I did whatever I could, but the damage was done. She was gone. All that remains is the remains of my destruction. A beautiful doll destroyed by me. Then I woke up, and cried my eyes out. My life forever tainted by this haunting dream. It was neither a dream or a nightmare, it was a reminder of what I was and what I will always be. A destroyer of lives unworthy and incapable of love. May she forgive me and my ugly ugly soul. And now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord my soul to keep, if I die before I wake, I pray the lord my soul to take. Please kill me.

Frustration

Sitting on the sit up benches near the squash courts, looking back at the previous lesson, perspective struck me. Perhaps I should have noticed this ages ago, perhaps I should have learnt it when I was a kid, but you do know people like me never do learn, they never do really grow up. It’s something like a modern world Peter Pan, just without the happily ever after which so often seems to elude us, until we do realize that it is impossible in the society we live in. As a particular someone was busy ogling at the judo coach and it just so happened to catch my eye, I realized the world has moved on. Years have gone by, I guess I’m still living in the year 2000, and I still, believe that I’ll always be a child, that I’ll never have to grow up. People mature as they grow older, I just become more obtuse. They say old people retard as they grow older, I’m not even old yet.

I keep harping on history, that I should change and all that bullshit that I never seem to take seriously, and I still don’t by the way. Truth is, I say it only because it sounds good. That penance only works when somebody is watching; that I lament only when there are ears around. I’m king of drama, and I like making a big deal out of my own stuff, while not usually caring about the troubles of others. I think the world owes me a living, and I’ve taken advantage of every single person that has come my way. And today what happened during some particular lesson, good old teacher reality gave me a big smack on the head.

Truth of the matter is, I’m a hunter, I like the chase, and once I’ve caught it, it loses its appeal. Problem with that is, I’ve burnt so many bridges, made so many enemies that, I’ve hardly any friends, or rather, I just don’t see them. And with that came so many consequences. I thought the supply was limitless, I thought they’ll just keep on coming, but what I realized was that the damage once done, cannot be made undone; that trust once lost, cannot be gained easily. What I’m saying is like duh…obviously, but I forget. I’ve got to stop thinking I’m the centre of the universe that nobody can compare to me. I’ve got to stop thinking that I can take advantage of trust. I’ve got to stop thinking that peoples’ feelings are toys. I have a certain tendency to make enemies out of friends. I should stop that too.

Nice speech made there, but I guess most of you have realized that it’s all talk no action. Come to think of it, I think I’ll make an excellent politician. My actions have brought me here, and I have to look up to see what a nice deep hole I’ve dug myself into. Sigh, I wish, I wish, I wish… Maybe you were right, maybe I’m just a little immature kid that just doesn’t wish to grow up. Reality’s slowly wearing down my life, showing me the bare bones of what’s really happening to me.

Argh, what am I saying, it’s not like you haven’t heard this before, it’s not like it’s the first time I’m writing this. It just goes into some viscous cycle that I write this, feel shitty and because I feel shitty go back to doing more shitty things that lead to me feeling more shitty and do more shitty things to make myself feel better. Stupid.

Learning about soliloquies, I think I might just have one of my own:

In retrospect, messages ignored will come back to haunt,

The past shall become the present,

Which becomes the future,

Man’s destiny is but an illusion of the inevitable,

But the hands of fate are our own.

Words fade in the presence of concrete actions.

And concrete once set, may succumb to wind and rain,

But till then lies there obtuse and stubborn,

Till time wears it away,

To nothingness which we may once again build,

The pillars of trust and love.

But really is there, nothingness which it seems?

The rubble strewn, wreckage lies,

Like the ghost of times once past,

A reminder of that which caused its fall.

What’s done cannot be undone,

Scars made, cannot be removed.

The wheel of time is on a downward slope,

And the laws of gravity cannot be broken.

What I’ve done I will live with,

For there is no other way.

KI

Little something i wrote for KI...

‘…no part of my consciousness will survive my death.’

To say that no part of one’s consciousness will survive upon death is the thinking of a cynic. As consciousness can be defined as the thoughts and feelings, collectively, of an individual or of an aggregate of people, we cannot deny the fact that we have been granted insight into the “consciousness” of many great thinkers such as Plato, Socrates and Aristotle due to the fact that their “consciousness” have been immortalized through books and word of mouth and their ideas are still alive today. Is this not an example of consciousness transgressing the boundaries of death?

However, it’s not just on the superficial level of books and text that consciousness may survive the inevitable phenomena of death. There are many of life’s mysteries that cannot be answered as of yet, and one of which is the question of the human soul. There has been no proof that the human soul does or does not exist; thus could it be that the human soul does survive the phenomena of death and proceeds to exist in a separate dimension? Or could it be that as stated in the bible, although the Garden of Eden has been closed to mortal man, our souls, after passing judgment are allowed to live a life of eternal bliss in the garden originally made for us? Anything can be said about the phenomena of death, everything is a possibility. We would never know the answer, until the day we die.

However, on the flip side, it may also be true that death is the end of the road for the human consciousness. Once we die, we no longer exist as a living, breathing, thinking human being and whatever mysteries we keep in our head die along with us. When we bid goodbye to the world, and sink into that eternal slumber, that vast oblivion, is it really possible that the chapter of our book ends there? Again, we would never know, until the day we die.

The mystery of death has never been unraveled. Multitudes of hypotheses have been proposed and none can be debunked, due to the enigmatic nature of the whole question of death. Thus, we cannot really say that “no part of our consciousness will survive our death” nor can we say that “part of our consciousness will survive our death” because that question simply cannot be answered.

Dead

As I stared at the 2 digits on my economics test paper, a very, very cold, human chill ran down my spine. My last trump card has been played. My credibility is in tatters. The elitist, hubristic boy is nothing more than a bad joke. For all the time, he looked down on who he thought were lesser beings, for all the time that he turned his nose up at people with that holier-than-thou attitude, for all the time that he smirked thinking that he knew what he did not know, it just adds mark after mark to his name in the hall of shame. And as he thinks about his humanity, his increasing average ness, he is afraid. Minute by minute, as the seconds tick by, every stroke of the clock is against him, slowly rendering him obsolete, the black oblivion of being left behind swallowing him up, bit by bit.

He fears being rendered obsolete. He fears being part of the majority which sickens him. He fears being like one of them. He fears failure. He fears being the peak in the bell curve. But most of all, he fears that all the things he said, all the actions he took, were all just full of hot air, that he does not practice what he preaches, that he is becoming something he hates with every cell of his being – hypocrite. He hates the two-faces they portray just to fit in, or to be popular. He hates when they speak so strongly about their principles, when they would just shatter them five minutes later. He hates the way they would put people down, just to make themselves look good. And bit by bit, he’s becoming like them, and once again he is afraid.

As Satan had fallen because of his pride, he will fall the same way. Held back for two years, he dares to be arrogant. Being a playboy, he dares to preach on fidelity. Being two-faced himself, he dares to hate hypocrites. His wall of credibility falls slowly brick by brick. With the school stacked against him with their rumours, gossips and trivialities, he fights a losing battle. Their impression of him would not change, and neither would what they say. His reputation, already tainted by his actions from the past, are once again brought back to haunt him in the form of backstabbers and rumour-mongers. He retreats into his solitude where he feels safe and protected. He promised many things, he promised upright behavior, he promised smiles, he promised fidelity, but bit by bit, the burden of his promises weigh down on him, and soon his nose is nearly touching the floor, his back bent double by the judgments and stigmatization placed on him.

Nobody remembers who came in second. “Be on top, or who cares?” he fears being second. As he looks at the average people around him and he remembers where he came from, he feels that he has let himself down. He has the potential to do so much more, and yet he squandered it away. His hubris, his elitism had all been for nothing. His promises to prove himself have all turned out to be hot air. Relegated to an average college, with average people around him, he drowns in his aspirations, like the distant stars that even he cannot reach. Every new test paper he receives, every stumble moves his further and further away from his already impossible goal. The label of “good-for-nothing” is slowly becoming more and more permanent. With no exceptional talents, with no unique abilities, he’s just another one of them, another one of the majority. Regret is the only thing on his mind now - If he had not squandered away his years in his CCA, if he had not wasted his time in school, he would not end up in this state now.

A lack of discipline, a lack of will, affinity to failure is the qualities he has. None of which has ever served him well. “If only” do come up from time to time. He looks at himself and he sees more weaknesses than strengths. Without skills, without abilities, he sees so many people above him on the ladder he must climb to the top. Pilots, musicians, degree holders, university graduates all line up on top of him like millions of obstacles. And he thinks, they have so much more right to be arrogant than me, and yet they’re not. His skills that he prides himself the most on, writing and speaking have waned through years of atrophy. His essays are a shadow of what they used to be. His words, once used to move people to tears, can only elicit an eyebrow raise from most. Pride comes before the fall. He thinks he is so great, that his intelligence would carry him through the day that practice was for losers. Now his retribution has come, in the form of marks.

He wishes he could go back in time, to remedy the mistakes he has made in the past. That he could go back to primary school and relive the life he so misses now. That he could redo his secondary school, and not be held back by 2 years. He wishes that he had exercised a little more self restraint, and the rumours would not come. He wishes that he had listened when people told him he was digging his own grave. But stubborn as he is, arrogant as he is, he did not listen, and now he has fallen. But those years are gone now; he can never get them back. He is ancient, even in that 18 year old body of his. A dinosaur in modern standards, forever holding on to his obsolete beliefs, forever thinking that he is right, forever thinking that he is the best. And as the tests come rolling in, it’s one coffin nail after the other…moving him closer and closer to his grave. In other words, he’s screwed.

Victor Vampire

Victor is a vampire. He isn’t that sort of vampire that turns into a bat and is afraid of sunlight etc etc. He still has superhuman strength, inhuman speed and is immortal. But it’s not the superficial aspects that we want to focus on. Victor rejects his existence. Victor yearns to be normal and a geek and an outcast in school is as close to normal as he can get.

Victor’s parents were outcasts. They had the taboo union of a Vampire and a human. Victor’s mother was beaten to death by her very own race for having a child with a Vampire right in front of Victor’s eyes. Victor’s father was killed for betraying his race. Through some miracle, Victor survived and continued living on. He remembers the last thing his father said before he died, “Don’t blame the humans, they don’t know anything. Live with compassion; don’t hurt them like we did,” and Victor’s father left this world. Victor has always lived honoring his father’s dying words, but he has never forgiven them for killing his mother. Since Victor is half human, he’s invulnerable to sunlight, though he’s stronger at night. He’s not immortal and is vulnerable to physical attacks. However he does possess the strength and speed of a vampire.

“SPLAT” a tissue soaked with water landed on Victor’s face. Victor sighed and wiped away the muck. “This is going to be another typical day,” thought Victor.

“Hey loser, can’t even take a wet tissue? Boy you’re a drip,” Luke shouted after him.

Luke. He’s your typical high school hottie. Good looking, always with the popular crowd, girls worship the ground he steps on etc etc. However, god was fair. He’s an obnoxious, arrogant, absolutely detestable…thing that walks this planet. He also picks on geeks and nerds...

“…which makes me public enemy number 1 of the school naturally,” sighed Victor. Victor trudges up the stairs to class knowing that this day could not be any different from any other day in school. Little did he know the surprise which was in store for him.

Victor put his bag down in the usual spot in class, which was usually the furthest away from the popular crowd. He sat down, made himself as unnoticeable as possible, and buried himself in his work.

Luke swaggers into class and like Moses parts the red sea, the students automatically shifted to give way to him.

“God here it comes,” Victor thought.

“Hey loser, you’re sitting in my seat…” Luke says halfway when he notices a new girl sitting alone in class calmly reading a book.

“Hey, looks like there’s a new girl in class, I think I’ll go introduce myself, everyone needs a friend,” Luke comments as he slicks up his hair and moves over to the new girl.

New girl? Victor looks surprised. He even forgets that he was about to receive a barrage of abuse from Luke. Victor perks up and tries to take a look at the new girl. It was love at first sight. It was as though an angel has descended from the heavens to bless this class with her beauty. Her hair was a lustrous black. Her features were subtle but clearly defined. She had a demure aura around her, and it was as if everything around her complimented her beauty. Well. That was until Victor caught sight of lecherous Luke leaning over to make her acquaintance and maybe even more than that.

But what is this? It’s as though Luke’s a different person altogether!

“Hello, my name is Luke, welcome to 07S03. I saw you sitting here alone and thought that you might need an introduction to the class…” Luke says. As the conversation trails off from there, “Sigh. It’s for the best anyway, after all, a vampire and a human is taboo, not that anyone realizes we exist anyway.” Victor thought to himself bitterly. Victor continues doing his work. At the corner of his eye, Victor spies Luke and Cassie in animated conversation. Little did he know...

“Look thank you for your hospitality but I just want to read!” Cassie almost screams in exasperation.

“Oh all right, well you know you have a friend in me, if you need any help you can always approach me,” Luke replies, subdued.

“Yes thank you very much, your efforts are appreciated,” Cassie thanks Luke with a sigh of relief.

As Luke returns to his seat, Victor can only imagine that the new girl, has already fallen for Luke. As Victor started to daydream about the new girl, the teacher walks in.

“Good morning class!” Mr. Loke beams with a cheery smile.

“Good morning Mr. Loke,” groaned the class.

“I have a few matters to address this morning. Firstly it’s about your class test. I have to say, you made marking easy,” Mr. Loke said, grinning from ear to ear. “Secondly, it’s about a new student in class. I’m sure you’ve already noticed her, this is Cassie from Hong Kong,”

Cassie stood up and walk to the front of the class. Victor was once again stunned by her beauty. She looked more beautiful than before, and the moment she opened her mouth…

“Hi! My name’s Cassie and I’m from Hong Kong, I love Chinese music and acting. I hope to be able to make friends with all of you. I recently just moved in from my hometown and would be staying here for quite a while,” Cassie announced cheerfully. Victor thought he heard the song of angels. He sat there, building castles in the air as he heard the last note linger, then fade. However, reality is a cruel alarm clock. Deep inside he knew, that not only will he always be an outcast of the school, he knew that people will never accept him for who he is, and anybody he gets close to, he will lose her, because the people around him will never be able to accept a vampire and a human together. The thought of that filled him with sorrow, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The rest of the day went by slowly and painfully, there was not a time in class that he could look at Cassie and not be hurt by the cruel reality. The pain weighed heavy in his heart. As he walked home, he thought, “This will be over soon, after all it’s just a crush,” “Anyway as long as I keep myself buried in my work, I think I’ll be fine,” he laughed sardonically. It seems ironic that he found refuge in his work when it is the activity he so abhors. Victor hates the education system. He feels that its futile to work for something that would be useless to people in the future. “It’s just a piece of paper, it’s not like we use integration or thermal physics in the workplace next time,” Victor rants angrily inside. Victor sighs, “But still it’s the only thing right now that might distract me from…” Victor stops abruptly. Once again, god sure has a sense of humor - right before him, as he turned the corner, stood Cassie.

“Oh, hey,” Victor stutters.

“Erm, do I know you?” Cassie says awkwardly.

“Oh I’m sorry. I’m from your class. I’m Victor,” Victor blushes. He averts his eyes and says “I’m sorry, I guess I should get going now.” As Victor turns to walk away, Cassie suddenly calls him back.

“Hey! I remember you! You’re the guy that’s always sitting in a corner buried in your work. Wow, what a coincidence. Do you live in this area too?”

That cheery reply, though so simple, filled Victor’s heart with joy. It filled him with hope, this mad hope, that maybe, it was possible, maybe one day, a geek could be with an angel, a union between a human and a vampire could happen. He smiled.

“Yeah, I am. I do live here, just two blocks away from here,” Victor points.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home, I just live over there, 5 blocks away,” Cassie smiles cheerily.

Victor could not believe his ears. First he met this angel on his way home, now she’s walking him home? But he reminded himself, I am a vampire, in no position to be with a human being. “Reality sure is cruel,” he thought.

As Cassie walked with Victor that day, it was as though they had known each other for eternity. They clicked wonderfully. They were like bread and butter, one incomplete without the other. Victor even forgot himself, he just lost himself in that innocent conversation with Cassie. Cassie was taken aback by his honesty and simplicity. All her life she has been wooed, degraded and chased by those arrogant pricks that are found everywhere. This is the first time that she has been able to talk to someone who didn’t need anything more from her than her company. She was impressed, and little did she know, she was in love. The more they talked, the slower they walked. And when they parted company, it was already night. They had talked for 4 hours and not once did either of them look at the time.

“So I’ll see you in school tomorrow?” Cassie quipped.

“Erm, yeah I’ll see you around,” Victor replied uncertainly.

“Hey, you all right? You don’t look right. Is something on your mind?” Cassie asks, concerned.

“No I’m fine,” Victor flashes a smile. “I’ll see you in school tomorrow then,”

When Victor walked home that night, there was a slight lilt in his step. For once, he felt happy. Now it was time for his duty, his responsibility to mankind, his promise to his father. And once again, his heart weighed heavy on him.

As Victor stood on the rooftop of a building, he surveyed what he saw beneath him. “Why am I doing this?” he thought bitterly. He thought about what Luke has been tormenting him everyday, he thought about how his mother was killed by the same people he has to protect. Victor clenches his fist. “Father, why? Why do I have to protect the race which have hunted our race for ages?” Then he thought about Cassie and her beautiful smile. “That makes it easier I guess,” Victor thought to himself as he spied a couple of thieves trying to steal a car. Within a blink of an eye, he was gone.

“Quick Jeff I got a bad feeling about this,” Nick urged his partner who was trying to use a coat hanger to open the car door.

“Look I can only do things this fast all right? So just hold on to your balls and stop irritating me,” Jeff shot back, irritated.

Victor smiles in the darkness. He walks towards them. His footsteps echo clear into the night.

“Who’s that?” Nick whispers, panicky.

“What? I didn’t hear no nothing. Shut up and let me finish,” Jeff replies.

“No seriously, I heard footsteps,” Nick defends himself.

“It must be the marbles rolling around in your head,” Jeff laughed.

“That’s not very nice,” Nick shot back.

When the footsteps rang again, both Jeff and Nick heard them. They turned towards the direction of the footsteps, petrified. Victor appeared from the shadows and whispered softly, “Evening gents, lovely night isn’t it?” In his full superhero garb, Victor was an awesome sight. Black aviator shades like those that you see in the Matrix. He was clad in black entirely finished with black half gloves. He looked as though he was the wrath of the night itself. Victor laughed, his cold laughter pierced the night air, ringing loud and clear. It sent shivers down the two felons’ spines.

Jeff got the locking mechanism open and was about to get into the car when Victor commented, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, not only will they get you for stealing, they’ll get you for destruction of property as well, since I seriously doubt you two have your driving license,” of course, they did not heed any of Victor’s warnings and got into the car, starting it and hitting the accelerator. They braced themselves for the crash but it never happened, for Victor was no where to be seen.

“So where are we going boys?” Victor smiled as he draped his shoulders over the two of them. They fainted. Victor sighed. “I always hate when this happens, it’s so boring,” Victor dragged the two of them out of the car and suddenly he thought about him mother. His fists clenched tighter. He looked at the two felons. He shook his head, “No I can’t hurt them,” he reminded himself and just left them on the floor.

As Victor stood in the lamp light, a voice rang from behind him, appalled. “My god, what have you done?” A figure clothed entirely in white stepped out from the darkness. She wore a white mask across her eyes, as well as a piece of cloth across her mouth. She wore knee high boots and a short miniskirt, making her look amazingly attractive. In her hand she carried a wooden stake, the mark of a slayer.

Victor was caught by surprised. He took one look at her and ran. The slayer gave chase. Many thoughts went through his mind as he made his escape. How did they find out who I was? Who is this person? There have never been slayers in Singapore before. Why now? That wooden stake, that slayer wants to kill me! The more Victor thought, the more confused he became and the more fearful he was. He took a look behind and saw the slayer hot in pursuit. Victor gave one last spurt of speed and the slayer was left far behind.

The slayer stopped the pursuit. She thought to herself, “I don’t know who you are vampire, but if you’re the one who murdered my family, I promise you there’ll be hell to pay,” the slayer walked off into the night, her hands tightly clutching the wooden stake with determination.

By the time the slayer gave up chasing Victor, he was already home lying on the bed with all the questions running through his head. The last word that went through his head before he went to sleep was “why?” He closed his eyes, and fell into a fitful slumber just as a hint of orange appeared far over the horizon.

Victor trudged to school, enduring the verbal abuses that Luke threw at him as he walked past him. Actually he didn’t hear anything at all; he was lost in his own thoughts, too busy to even realize that Cassie was calling him from the far side of the canteen.

“VICTOR! Why didn’t you answer me?” Cassie shouted as she stood in front of him, blocking his way.

“Huh? Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Victor explained with a dejected look in his eye.

“Hey, is anything the matter? Anything you would like to tell me?” Cassie asked, concerned about his welfare.

By this time, many of Victor’s classmates were staring at the both of them wondering how this could be possible. That included Luke, standing at the far side of the canteen, with a facial expression as black as night. Luke could not believe his eyes. He had never imagined that Victor was able to best him with Cassie. “He stole Cassie from me,” Luke thought. “He won’t get away with this,”

Victor started to notice that half the canteen was staring at them. “It’s nothing, really,” Victor mumbled as he brushed past her, leaving her stranded. Victor turned his back on her, and walked away. Cassie was confused and upset, but she was determined to get to the bottom of this. Luke watched the events unfold getting angrier and angrier by the second. He turned away and stormed off, muttering under his breath that Victor will pay.

Victor slowly walked up the stairs to his tutorial class and settled himself down in his usual place. He took out his books nonchalantly and started to immerse himself in the world of chemistry, not realizing that there were 2 pairs of eyes fixated on him. One filled with anger, the other filled with sorrow.

The bell rang, and like clockwork, Mr. Loke walked into class, his usual cheery self and announced that today there would be an OBT, much to the disappointment of the class. Victor just pretended nothing has happened and did the OBT without skipping a beat, finishing it in less than 5 minutes. However, it was not the OBT he was thinking about, but what happened last night.

“Am I really that hateful?” Victor questioned himself. “Do people really want me dead?” “Stupid human beings, no matter what I do for them, they’ll never accept me, I’m destined to be an outcast, destined to be hated by all. Why father, why do you help these human beings that you know killed mother?” Victor brooded. “Am I really worth what Cassie sees me as?” “No, I’m a monster; people should stay away from monsters.”

As these questions swam through Victor’s head, little did he know that the absolute opposite of these questions swam through Cassie’s. While the class was absolutely absorbed in their OBT, there were three individuals who were thinking of something totally irrelevant. The bell rang, Victor walked up to the teacher’s desk with his head bowed low and placed a single sheet of paper on his desk, after that he grabbed his bag and left without a word. Mr. Loke looked at him, confused about what brought about that sudden change in personality. “He may be unusually quiet in class, but he looks as though the weight of the world lies on his shoulders today,” Mr. Loke thought to himself.

Victor walked down to the canteen and sat alone, his head in his hands. Not too long later, Cassie sits down in front of him. They’re both silent for a while, then Cassie breaks the silence.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Cassie asks, almost close to tears.

Victor doesn’t reply, he just sits there, quiet and brooding.

“I don’t think I can be your friend Cassie,” Victor says quietly. “I’m sorry,” Victor takes his bag and stands up about to leave.

“Wait! Victor!” Cassie calls after him tears already flowing from her eyes. “Why can’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Victor just walks off, without looking back at Cassie. He walks past Luke who saw the entire thing. Luke stares at Victor with hatred in his eyes swearing to himself that he’ll make Victor pay for what he did to Cassie. “But right now, I think Cassie’s more important,” Luke thinks to himself. He walks over to where Cassie is sitting and sits in front of her.

“Hey…” Luke whispers tenderly.

“I’m fine,” Cassie replies, sobbing slightly.

“I know,” Luke says, handing her a piece of tissue.

Cassie looks up and smiles, she thanks Luke for the tissue and apologizes to him for the way she looks and wipes her tears away, rearranges the smile on her face again and walks off into the crowd.

“What a girl,” Luke thinks, and smiles to himself. “Not like all those chicks that fall head over heels over me with no backbone,” Luke runs his hands through his hair, “And I hate it when girls cry, especially when I’m helpless to do anything about it.” He suddenly thinks about Victor. “I don’t know what he did that made Cassie cry, but I can be sure that he’ll pay for it,”

Victor was in the library studying when he looked at his watch. 5 pm it told him. “Time to go, I guess” Victor thought to himself. He packed up his books and walked out of the library. He didn’t notice Luke nearby doing the same.

Victor was walking through a secluded corridor when someone tapped him on the shoulder. As he turned to look who it was, a punch flew out of no where and caught him on the cheek. He fell to the ground in a heap clutching his cheek. He looked up and saw Luke towering over him, hatred in his eyes.

“That’s for making Cassie cry!” Luke shouted at him, spitting out every word. “You jerk! Whatever did she do to you?” Luke grabbed Victor by the collar and raised him up. “Answer me!”

Victor just raised his head calmly and looked straight into Luke’s eyes. “You would never understand,”

“Why you arrogant geek!” Luke shouted and threw another punch. This time Victor dodges it and his fist contacts with the wall.

“Argh!” Luke cries out in pain and crumples to the floor. Victor stands over him, wanting to help him up.

“Hey look, I’m sorry…” Victor starts trying to help him up.

“Get away you geek!” Luke shouts as he throws another punch.

This time Victor is prepared, he grabs Luke, but just as he does, he is reminded of his mother, who was killed by the same kind of people who are tormenting him now. His fists clench and in one moment he loses control of himself and throws him against the wall, just as Cassie turns the corner. She sees Luke crashing against the wall, face bloody. She turns to look at who did this and sees Victor standing over him, fist raised. Cassie can’t believe her eyes. She runs over and shouts, “Stop it! Stop it! Get away Victor, I thought you were a nice guy. I was so wrong,”

Victor looks at her with a bewildered expression on his face. He looks at her and sees the hurt and hatred that she has for him and realizes that there is nothing that he is able to say that would change the present situation. He bows his head and leaves.

As Victor walked home that day, he thought to himself, “Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe if I hurt instead of her, she’ll be happy,” “Anyway, there’s nothing I can do about it now. She hates me. I hope she’ll be happy with Luke, he seems to care a lot about her,” As he thought about these issues, his brain assured him that everything would be fine, but his heart just weighed heavier, and heavier on him.

Victor stood at the edge of the rooftop, questioning his identity. Who was he? What was his place in society? If his existence is hated by so many, wouldn’t it be better if he just left? But he remembered the promise to his father and has sworn to honor that promise. He sat down at the edge of the rooftop, brooding. He thought about Cassie and the look that she gave him today. “Sigh, I’ve lost a friend, perhaps the only friend I ever will have. At least we were friends for that time we spent together. To me, that’s more than enough,” Victor sighed. A tear ran down his cheek.

“It’s not fair to sneak up on someone from behind,” Victor said to no one in particular.

A figure in white appears from the shadows. “I wasn’t intending on doing anything, I just came for the night air. You however, ruined everything.” The Slayer spat.

“I apologize for ruining your night. I guess now that I’m here, you would want to kill me. I won’t let you, but I will not fight with you tonight,” Victor states resolutely.

“It’s not your choice!” the Slayer shouts as she rushes up to Victor. Victor parries every blow but never returns a hit.

“Why don’t you fight back?!” The Slayer shouts, emphasizing every syllable with a blow.

“Firstly, I don’t fight girls,” Victor grunts, trying to parry each of the Slayer’s blow. “Secondly, you’re a good guy, I don’t want to hurt you,” and he thought to himself, “we ought to have been killed off ages ago anyway,”

The slayer suddenly stops her attacks. “My family was killed because of your KIND!” the Slayer swings her fist at Victor’s face. Victor just dodges it and has a shocked and guilty look on his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”

“Of course you don’t, you’re just a…” the slayer continues when suddenly a piercing scream fills the air. Victor hears the scream and runs towards the railing of the rooftop.

“I’m sorry, I have to go now,” Victor apologizes.

“Don’t try to escape!” the slayer shouts after him and gives chase.

“I’m not, I promise we’ll finish this later, but now I really have to go,” Victor vaults over the railing and disappears. The slayer gives chase and spots Victor defending an old lady against a snatch thief with a knife.

Victor grabbed the thief by the arm and tried to pin him down. The thief fought back and slashed Victor with his knife opening up a deep gash in his arm. Victor yelped in pain and growled. He jumped on the thief and they both went crashing onto the floor. He had the thief in an arm lock when suddenly the image of his mom appeared in his mind. The more he thought about it the angrier he became. He didn’t hear the thief crying in pain. Suddenly he remembered his father’s words. He was brought back to reality and immediately released his grip. The thief ran off, cradling his arm in his hand. He was shocked at himself. “I’m sorry…” he told to no one in particular, looking at his hands. “I’m sorry.” He ran off, shocked at what he just did.

The Slayer walked over and returned the bag to the old lady. After that she helped the old lady to the lift. As the slayer was about to walk away, the old lady said to her, “Thank your friend for me, he saved my life. Bless you too, whoever you are.” The slayer stood there, stunned.

The slayer went to the same rooftop she saw Victor. She was right, he was sitting on the rooftop with his head in his hands. “What did you do that for?” the slayer called out.

“I don’t know…I just lost…,” Victor whispered, his thoughts elsewhere.

“I meant when you helped the old lady, that man deserved justice…” the slayer said.

“He may have deserved justice, but i’m no killer…” Victor trailed on.

That was when the slayer snapped. “I don’t believe you!” the Slayer shouted at him. “Do you know what your kind did to me? They killed my family in front of me and made me watch!” the Slayer went on her knees and wept. “I’ll never forgive your kind!”

Victor just slowly backed away and said, “I’m sorry,” before disappearing into the night.

Victor sighs as he gets into bed thinking once again about the pain he’s causing people around him. He asks himself whether whatever he’s doing does pay for the pain his ancestors have caused. “I just want people to be happy around me, to be able to accept me for who I am and not what I am. If that happiness can only be achieved if I wasn’t around, I shouldn’t be around,” sighed Victor. He thinks about the students in NYJC and he thinks to himself, “Sigh, if only they knew that being normal is a privilege I would give anything to have,” he closes his eyes and falls asleep.

Once again Victor finds himself in school again. He thinks to himself, everyday I do the same thing day in day out. What am I doing this for? He shakes the feeling out of his head. Suddenly, he spots Cassie hanging out with Luke. He suddenly collapses on the floor clutching his heart. “I didn’t know it would hurt me that much,” he mutters to himself as he tries to catch his breath and picks himself up. He walks up the stairs to class. Little did he know that when he turned his back on them, Cassie looked at him go with sorrow written all over her face and tears welled up in her eyes. She fought back feelings to call him back and just sat quietly in front of Luke.

“Hey, don’t cry, it’s not worth it crying over him,” Luke said softly.

Cassie nods and dried her eyes. “I’m fine,” Cassie said, “he just seemed so different the other day,” she thought to herself.

Luke is silent. Cassie suddenly thought of something.

“Luke?,” Cassie raises her head.

“Yes Cassie?” Luke looks curious.

“Why do you hate Victor so much?” Cassie asks.

Luke falls silent for a while.

“Hey if you don’t want to tell me it’s all right you know, I just want to know why you always treat him so bad,” Cassie says.

“Victor and I go way back. He was in my class in secondary 4. Our school had this program where a person has to excel in sports, project work and academics to be able to qualify for a scholarship to our affiliated school, Hwachong Junior College. I was placed in a group with Victor for the project work segment of my scholarship application. It was terrible. He was unable to communicate with us, he always looked like he didn’t receive enough sleep and he always didn’t finish his allotted parts. Because of that, our group failed the project work segment and I didn’t get the scholarship. When the o level results came out, I was unable to get to Hwachong on my own merit. That’s why I’m in NYJC now. I lost my scholarship because of him.” Luke answered coldly.

Cassie fell silent for a while. “Come on let’s go to class, we’ll be late,” Cassie said as she stood up to walk to class.

Victor was already in class when the two of them arrived, as usual buried in his books. Just as Cassie and Luke stepped into class, Mr. Loke arrived, this time in place of that cheery expression he has on his face, this face is as black as storm clouds.

“What happened to all of you? I may have expected poor results because of the surprise test but this is appalling! Those of you which I expected more from just disappointed me. I’ve got nothing to say. Take back your scripts.” Mr. Loke sighed as he sat down heavily on his chair. “Victor, see me after class,” Mr Loke said curtly as he buried his head in his hands.

“I guess it’s not the first time he has called me up,” Victor sighs. The lesson ended quickly and Victor went to see Mr. Loke after class.

“Care to explain this?” Mr Loke said quietly as he placed Victor’s script on the table. Victor took one look at it and bowed his head. “Your work has been steadily declining Victor, what has been happening to you?” Mr. Loke scolded.

“I was busy…” Victor murmured.

“Busy? What can be more important than school work?” Mr. Loke shouted as he starts to lose his temper.

“Trying to make something out of my life!” Victor shouts back. “All my life, I have been doing the same thing over and over again. Everyday I come to school, get laughed at, get ignored, act like wallpaper and then go back home to an empty house! It’s as though I’m the only one left on this planet! I just want to be accepted. Sometimes I think whether this is how my life ought to be. Sometimes it gets so lonely at home I look forward to coming to this godforsaken school. For when people laugh at me, at least there’ll be laughter around me…” Victor trails off, he places his head between his arms and draws heavy breaths. He didn’t realize that Cassie was standing at the door, looking at him cry in front of Mr. Loke. But all Cassie could do, was cry with him. She never realized the pain that Victor held inside and wanted to kill herself for the way she treated Victor that day. She desperately wanted Victor to forgive her, but she just didn’t know how.

As Victor stood up to go, Mr Loke told him, “Ask yourself this, who are you, what is your purpose here?”

That day, Victor walked in the park before going home. He just wanted to clear his head about certain things. He thought about the question Mr. Loke asked him. “Who am I?” Victor asked himself. Suddenly he heard a scream from the far side of the park. He looked into his bag and cursed, his superhero garb was not in his bag. He ran.

When he reached the scene, he saw Luke lying bloody on the floor and Cassie was being attacked by 4 gangsters. Victor cried, “No!” and rushed to attack them, fangs bared and eyes full of rage. Cassie watched, her eyes full of surprise. “Victor is a vampire?” As Victor was getting slashed up by the knives, he shouted to Cassie, “What are you doing? Take Luke and run!” Victor was bleeding profusely from multiple wounds over his arms. Then, Cassie did something very unexpected. From her bag she pulled out a wooden stake. Victor’s eyes went wide with surprise. Distracted, the gangsters took their chance and plunged their knives deep into Victor’s chest. “No! Victor!” Cassie cried as he fell to the floor. Cassie looked at the gangsters with hatred, “How dare you,” she hissed, her words full of venom. “How dare you do that to my FRIEND!” At the last word, she rushed at them, movements full of grace, but attacks full of fury. She was controlling herself, as she was not meant to kill, but that did not stop her from inflicting the worst pain this gangsters have ever felt in their life. Cassie wasn’t as merciful as Victor in that aspect.

Luke was appalled that the stories his mother told him about vampires were true. Luke summoned up all the courage left in him and dragged himself over to where Victor lay. “Hey man,” Luke said, a little guilty and a whole lot of scared.

“If you’re going to insult me again, please don’t, at least let me have my last moments in peace,” Victor struggled to reply.

“I just want to say, I’m sorry for how I treated you. I never did forgive you for how you lost my scholarship for me, but I guess I was wrong to act like that…” Luke trailed on.

“I lost it on purpose. I knew about your scholarship thing and I knew how the teachers pushed up your marks so you could get good grades. Do you think a geek like me can actually fail something? I did it for you, I knew you would not be able to make it in HCJC, your grades have never been good. Do you want to get kicked out after the first year?” Victor replied. His eyes closed and he went limp.

“VICTOR! VICTOR!” Luke cried as he tried to shake Victor awake. Luke remembered what his mother told him about vampires. He never really thought it was true. But he knew what to do anyway.

Luke took out a pen knife from his bag when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He turned to look, it was Cassie. She took the pen knife from him as Luke started to protest. Cassie just silenced him and whispered, “I owe him this, for misjudging him,” I’m a slayer, and because of that, I nearly lost a friend. “He must have been thinking about how I have been hunting him all this time and it must have broken his heart to think that someone out there wants him dead, I’m sorry Victor, I really am.”

Luke was silent. Cassie made a slight cut on her wrist and brought it to Victor’s mouth. The blood flowed, drip by drip into Victor’s mouth. After a while, Victor coughed and fluttered his eyes open.

“Cassie,” Victor said weakly. “You’re a slayer, why did you do this? You should have just let me die, after all, I’m a freak of nature. Everybody would look at me with hatred…”

Cassie shakes her head, “No Victor, you’re a friend to me. The best one I have ever known for a very long time. And it doesn’t matter what you are. I just accept you for who you are. And you’re Victor Sefuro Tan. Don’t you ever die on me.”

Victor was stunned. After that he bowed his head down and said, “Yes Cassie,”

Luke put his hand up, “Dude, sorry for all I did this year. You didn’t deserve it. Friends?”

Victor looks apprehensive, Luke continues, “for life?”

Victor looks at Luke and smiles, takes his hand and says, “For life.”

All of them stood up and walked away, each with a different path of fate, each with a different destiny, but all of them entwined, inseparable.

Victor stands on rooftop. “It doesn’t matter who people think I am, I know who I am. I know my purpose in life. I’m to live, mostly to protect those who love me but also those that don’t. I have to respect my father’s wish but I’ve realized why now. View people for who they are and not what they did to you. The people who killed my mom were fearful. My parents never blamed them and I should not as well. Make people happy wherever I go, not whenever I go. People may want me dead. But I would live for those who want me alive, those I have to protect, those in need of protection. What do I want in life? To live, nothing else. Who am I? I’m Victor, VAMPIRE”

A piercing scream fills the air. A voice from behind Victor says, “Let’s rock and roll,” The voice came from Cassie, dressed in her white superhero costume. “Yeah, let’s,” another voice calls out. It was Luke, dressed all black in a sweeping cloak. Victor smiles.

“I’m Victor, vampire,”

Boy

There was a boy.

When he first saw the light of day, he was surrounded by happiness, joy and celebration. As he took in his first breath in the arms of the doctor, many could see the sparkle of life in his mother’s eyes. She saw the result of 9 months of effort; 9 months of worrying whether the baby will be okay; 9 months of waking up in the morning and vomiting into the toilet; 9 months of back ache, cramps and aches all over her body. 9 months.

As she held the baby in her arms, she was oblivious to everything. The only thing that mattered right now, was the bundle of joy in her arms; so frail, so cute, so innocent. Even the cacophony of noises her family made fell on deaf ears. The baby cried, and like magic, the whole room fell silent as the sound of the baby’s feeble cries filled the room.

There was a toddler.

Laughter filled the room as he ran around the room with an extremely exhausted mother chasing him. He ran over chairs, under tables and into cupboards. The exhausted mother catches him and he laughs and laughs; innocent, ecstatic, joyous. The mother smiles. She washes him tenderly, lovingly, carefully as the kid laughs and plays in the small tub, a lively twinkle in his eyes.

The kid lies on the bed, his face a deathly pallor. His eyes are closed. His mother sits beside him, worry written all over her face. She wrings a small cloth dry in her hands, folds it, and places it on the kid’s head. The kid groans slightly, his eyes open a crack. He sees his mother. He smiles meekly, as though embarrassed to have his mother take care of him such. His eyes sparkle. His mother smiles and kisses the kid’s forehead.

There was a child.

He puts on his new school uniform, excited about his first day in school. He can’t wait to meet new people. He’s so eager to rush out of the door and meet this new world laid in front of him. He hugs his mother and then rushes out the door and onto the school bus waiting outside for him. As he walks up the steps of the school bus, he turns back and sees his mother waving back at him. He waves back and smiles. His mother smiles back, but her eyes show worry, apprehension and concern. She wipes away a tear in her eye and sighs, returning to her housework.

He gets off the school bus. So many sights! So many sounds! So much activity! He can hardly contain his excitement. He swings his head left, right, up, down just to take everything in. There’s a big smile on his face as he wanders around the school looking at an educational institute for the first time. He’s a fearless adventurer exploring the world beyond his own.

There was a kid.

He sits at the desk, a pencil in his hand. The pencil scurries across the paper, leaving black lines all across the white expanse. He feels a sharp pain on the back of his head. He hears a barrage of coarse words and harsh language. He doesn’t understand. His paper is crumpled and thrown away. His mother storms out of the room in a huff. There are tears in his eyes. He walks over to the dustbin and picks up the crumpled piece of paper. He stares at the drawing of the 3 stick figures. Below the picture were the words "mom, dad and me".

He hears them again. They shout and shout, never for once wanting to give way, never for once coming to a compromise. He cowers under his blanket, afraid. Afraid of what has happened to mommy and daddy who once ruffled his hair and pat him on the back. Afraid of this evil noise he was hearing. He hugged his legs for comfort. He was in his bed, in his room, in a house where he was afraid. He was at home, and he was afraid. He closed his eyes, and slept, wishing that this was a dream, wishing that he would wake up, and everything would be all right again.

There was a youth.

He sat within a sea of white and blue. He was just another number, another statistic, another marking on the attendance roster. He had no identity, no singularity, no individuality. He gazes at the scenery outside. He saw blue, white and a tinge of yellow. A bird flew past the window, singing its cheerful song. He saw freedom; he saw the futility of being stuck in this place where he had no place. He wanted to escape, he wanted to be free, he was sick of being stuck in this place, this room, this prison day after day, hour after hour, minute after minute, second after second listening to an old fart drone on.

The bell rings. He walks to the bus stop. He walks up the bus. He holds on to the pole and stares blankly ahead. The bus stops. He gets off. He walks back to his apartment. With mechanical precision, he inserts the key into the lock and walks into an empty house. The empty house he shares with his ghosts of parents. His parents whose back he only sees when he’s just about to fall asleep and they’re standing at the door raining abuses at one another. He can hardly remember their faces anymore. Every night, he sees only their back, over and over again, day after day, hour after hour, minute after minute, second after second.

There was a teenager.

His hair is a stark electric blue, styled to points. His face looks like a locksmith cabinet. He’s clothed entirely in black. There’s more metal on his body than one can see in a junkyard. A girl hangs on his right arm like a rag doll. He doesn’t even notice her. His face is in a permanent sneer. His eyes look dead, and yet one can see the deep sorrow of a person longing to be loved. He just stands along a corridor. Hundreds of people walk past him, yet he stands alone.

The cool breeze blows on his face. The sky is a myriad of colours. White clouds prance like sheep on a meadow of blue. Birds sing and dance across the sky. His eyes are closed, his mind at peace with his surroundings. His arms are outstretched, embracing the beauty of nature, of the world around him. He smiles and takes a step. He feels the rush of the wind one last time.

There was a boy.