On the edge of a cliff, with a steep slope, a boy was standing. He has an immature face, that of a 15-year-old. He had a puzzled look. Like he was tired of living.
Art was looking down from a cliff. Thoughts raised in heads which came in a triple,
'I should back away. I could get hurt. What if a landslide occurs? I should go back home.'
'If I jump, will I die? Dead people look so calm. Will I be calm like them?'
'Whoa, what a pleasant view. I should look down the edge to see if there is a river.'
It had started a few years ago when he was big enough to be self-conscious. All his thoughts are in triplets, with extreme differences in each of them. It has made his life a living hell. He could not focus at all and had a slow reaction speed.
Art closed his eyes and took a step forward. Feeling the ground beneath his foot, he took one more step. Next moment he was falling down the cliff feeling the cold air on his face. Hearing a rushing river, he opened his eyes. He saw the distant setting sun, beautiful green trees moving with the wind, and the city skyline in the far distance. This time again, three thoughts came to his mind.
'Ahhhhhh. I am gonna die. I am gonna die. I am gonna die. I am gonna die.'
'It will end at last. I will be peaceful again like before.'
'Whoa, it's fun. I will be alright there's a river down there.'
As three thoughts raced simultaneously in his head. He looked below to see the place where his brain would splat. But what came into view was a bearded and naked old man looking up at him.
At the last moment of the impact, Art saw the old man take out the rope he was wearing diagonally. He threw one end towards his leg. The rope caught Art's leg, the old mon swung him in reverse for three-round. He yanked him towards the river with an inhuman amount of strength.
Splash!!!
Landing in the river. Art struggled to keep himself afloat. He saw the old man swimming towards him before he lost consciousness.
With a foggy head, Art opened his eyes as he sat up. He saw the old man sitting cross-legged facing the river with both hands dangling loose on either side.
'He looks like a pervert. I should run. '
'I want to ask him why he saved me.'
'He looks so cool. I bet he is a prana master looking for a breakthrough in the wild.'
With the three simultaneous thoughts, he looked blankly in the air. At this moment, hearing a noise from behind. He turned his head and said with a smile, "Youngsters these days don't even say thanks for saving them."
Art glanced at him said, "I didn't fall."
Hearing this, the old man's eyes were wide open with astonishment.
"Why, boy? Did something happen?" asked the old man in a worried voice.
'Lie'
'Ignore him'
'Tell the truth.'
"I just wanted to know what happens after death," said Art in an annoyed voice. "What does it matter to you, old man? I am going back."
Art stood up. But before he could take a step, he staggered and fell forward. Before he could feel the pain, a firm but shivering hand stopped him midway. Balancing his body, Art thanked the old man, "Thank you."
The old man shook his head. "You're welcome. Come with me and we can have breakfast. There is a little temple nearby where we can talk about your condition."
"Sure."
The old man helped Art stand up. The two walked slowly and silently in silence. They went past the waterfall and walked through a forest of giant trees. Their leaves blocked most of the light, and only a faint yellowish glow illuminated their path.
Once outside the forest, they stopped.
"Sit down here first," said the old man, placing Art down on a rock covered in moss.
Looking around, Art noticed a small stream near the riverbank. He nodded. After taking off his shoes, he stepped out of them, leaving them neatly beside him. Looking upstream, he could see a tall rock jutting out of the water. Turning back, Art found the old man staring at him intensely. He felt uncomfortable under such scrutiny. Taking a deep breath, Art tried to calm down. "Sorry."
The old man smiled at him. "Don't be. It wasn't easy to save you."
Art shrugged his shoulders. "What do you mean?"
"You have the third thought disorder. You were trying to climb the cliffs above. When you were falling down the steep incline, my rope hit your leg and dragged you down. I tied you up, then brought you into the river. I was going to leave you alone, but I saw how much danger you were in. If I hadn't done this, you probably wouldn't have survived. So I helped."
"So I owe you my life?"
"No, you don't owe me anything. I'm just doing my job. Now eat some food. We'll talk later." Art nodded and sat down.
He watched the old man walking away. He picked up a piece of bread and ate it.