To my only and dearest Jullie,
To Adrian, my beloved brother,
And especially to Catherine, my mother, who took such good care of me,
There are no words to describe my experience living this pathetic life, totally supported by baseless lies and debts accumulated over the years.
My life was made of many misfortunes, but somehow I was lucky enough to survive the catastrophe years ago that claimed the lives of countless victims all over the world.
Cruel. The world tends to be cruel, with its large cities awash with countless seas of people and a society beset by disaster and sin.
Evolution? It is inevitable and any intelligent race is capable of achieving it. Still, what was the use of humanity moving forward when everything that was built became irrelevant to most people?
Power and wealth are concentrated in the hands of a few, who control society behind the scenes, almost as if the general population were just puppets that can have their strings manipulated and cut at any time. Vile people who do not wish to become someone better; people who think they are better than others and, therefore, act that way.
This is common in many situations and there is nothing we can do to change it. At least not anymore.
After all… There's no going back after all we've done.
We were condemned to live a worthless, monotonous, and boring life. Studying, working, and returning home was what I and many dreamed of doing, but dreams didn't always come true.
I sunk myself into debt. All I wanted was to try to live a better and more dignified life. A mediocre attempt like all the others in my weird life.
At least...
At least, if maybe the time we're living wasn't so chaotic, could we have lived a happy life together?
Despite all my hate, I don't have a chance to try anymore.
I can't blame the people in power for everything that happened, I also have a large share of the blame for all of this.
I mean, we all do.
That tragedy that erupted with war dozens of years ago has returned once again to trouble us one more time, pitting everyone against each other and leaving our minds full of futile thoughts.
I thought that I - an idiot who has never been of any use in his life since the world was fighting the war for sovereignty -, had finally found my purpose: to help you all find your true place in this miserable world.
I was wrong… I tried to act as a mediator between the races, I volunteered proactively, and in the end, I came to realize that I am nothing more than a meaningless existence in this vast universe.
The planet is filled with people with powers, possessing the ability to use and manipulate mana, and even some who have awakened supernatural gifts and abilities...
What about me? Just a 26-year-old loser who graduated from a relatively decent school and college putting in all his effort, even if it got him nowhere in his worthless life.
I mean, honestly, it took me to one place: it probably took me to death.
Well, my bad luck bothering me again, Haha! Who knew it would happen again, right?
You know I don't interact much, and on top of that, I find myself in the middle of a dangerous situation that would put you at risk of death as soon as you contact me.
All this, and my remorse for having made so many wrong decisions, ended up making it almost impossible to use conventional and technological means of contact.
Therefore, I decided in advance to write this letter as soon as my 'special day' approached.
It's a shame, definitely a shame, that this is probably the last time you'll hear from me.
I know it might sound confusing what I'm saying, but well, it's not like I'm some kind of intellectual or someone eloquent enough to be able to communicate well through a damn letter.
….
Getting straight to the point:
By the time you get this letter, I imagine I'll be dead, or maybe alive and being tortured by those sick people who claim to be in power or whatever the hell they really are.
Many people have put their trust in me, even those who have incredible abilities in their possession; but what good was it if I didn't have it at the most crucial moment?
From the bottom of my heart, I only apologize to you and I hope you can forgive me for everything I have caused for you in these many years that we have lived together.
I hope that if there is an afterlife, we can all meet again when this is all over.
…
…
And when that happens, we can get together in a restaurant and laugh at everything as if they were just funny memories of a distant past.
I really hope so…
Don't be silly like me and don't throw your lives away for anything. Become people of worth, you all have the gift, I know you do.
And when you can...
Live well.
From your beloved son, friend, and older brother,
Eternal apologies and good luck,
Garrick Cann Potter.
********************
The metallic sounds of car gears resounded through one of the busiest streets in a city famous for its tourist attractions in Europe. It was already night and the traffic was congested, several people returned from their jobs tired of exerting themselves, walking from one place to another, or commuting in their cars.
People spoke with varying tones in their voices, some excited and some sad. Still, no one on that street seemed to be aware of the presence of a boy with unkempt dark brown hair, who was watching them from the top of the tallest building built there.
He stared silently at all that movement, no emotion could be identified through the limbs on his face. Whatever it was, he didn't seem sentimental, let alone a conventional person who was returning from his job.
He walked strangely, limping and slowly, but with steady steps without interruption.
Dressed in a worn, dusty blue sweatshirt with black jeans that had some rips in the fabric at the thigh and knee area, and accompanied by strange brown shoes that looked old. His black eyes were still and cold as ice, surrounded by a thick black layer of dark circles that would have any doctor worried about his health.
The boy looked no older than 25 and no younger than 30 as he was silently watching various situations unfold below the building he was in.
Surely a normal person would look at this young man and think he was a lunatic who had escaped from a psychiatric institution. Still, even with his strange way of dressing and acting, the young man could be considered handsome, but he didn't seem to mind any of that futile thoughts.
As countless things raced through his mind at surprising speed, the roar of cars rang out once more, and an endless cycle perpetuated in this way.
He took slow steps, looking straight ahead as he got closer and closer to the edge of the building. He stopped in front of an elevated part of the building, which served as a support so that people passing by there did not fall by mistake.
It was a dangerous spot and just one misstep could cost him his life... For normal people, it would undoubtedly be something threatening and that would make them distance themselves from it instantly, but for the boy, this was his final destination.
"Fuhhh", he sighed deeply, his open mouth moving nervously. ''To think that all my efforts would lead me to this place...''
He looked down again, his eyes twitching as he felt the force of the wind hit his thin, rosy cheeks. The headlights of public transit and cars glowed a blinding yellow light, along with street lamps scattered at designated intervals along the vast, busy street.
Garrick put one foot under the gray concrete support, legs shaky that threatened to lose strength at any moment. He knew he didn't want to do that, but the boy had no choice if he wanted to preserve his family's lives and avoid the torture he would be subjected to by the loan shark who had lent him money.
He positioned himself, eyes fixed on the silhouettes that looked like tiny dots on the ground below. His body froze and once again the whole place went silent as he stopped talking; he was more scared than ever and he regretted every decision in his life, after all, even though he tried harder than anyone, where did that lead him?
To the top of a fucking building... so he could kill himself and end all the suffering that had been going on for years.
He tugged at the sleeve of the blue sweatshirt on his left wrist, revealing a silver watch with a half-cracked protective glass. The young man craned his neck and checked the time with a clear goal in mind.
''20;30'', said in a low voice to himself.
It was exactly 8:30 pm, if his calculations and his plans were correct, it had been about 10 minutes since his mother and the others had received his messages and the letter. He knew that once the three of them received it, they would try to find him and convince him to give up on this idea, saying they would get through this together.
But Garrick didn't want to get them into more trouble when their lives were finally getting better, so he purposely left his cell phone at home.
He was feeling cold, tears streaming down his face until they reached his weak shoulders. The quiet place made him feel his chest rising and falling as he breathed slowly, the sound of his breath crackling and making him even more nervous.
''I think that's it,'' Garrick said as he took a step forward and let one of his legs stick out of the concrete support. ''Fuck all this shit world.''
His slender-looking body lurched forward as the weight applied to one of his legs was released to a place with no platform to lean on. A few wisps of dust joined his tears as the boy's weight caused parts of the stand to give way.
Garrick felt the ground he was standing on, drop, and then his body followed the example as he let gravity do the rest for him.
He looked straight ahead, his body twirling nonstop as he free-falled toward the cold, tarred floor of the crowded street. Suddenly, the young man felt an invigorating sensation in his chest spread throughout his body; he didn't know what the hell that meant, but it calmed him down and erased all his thoughts about what was happening right now.
Several people looked up and pointed to a specific direction of the sky, where Garrick was falling.
And then the boy felt the breeze get stronger and the speed at which it fell faster than before, closing his eyes to avoid what was to come. He was plummeting, but no longer felt fear or despair, only freedom and a hint of hate.
''Fuck all that shit'', he thought internally, ''If only I could try in another life, I'd live a better one and value the people I love, more.''
CRAAACK! BAM!
His body came into contact with the hard floor of the street; he felt his bones being crushed and crunched at the same time, while some others protruded out of his body and pierced his flesh and organs, causing him to bleed even more and approach death faster. His eyes were dilated and bloodshot, he felt nothing but pain everywhere and his limbs no longer responded to his commands.
He was having some weird spasms in random regions of his body that made him even sorer, but he still wasn't screaming in pain. And as if none of this was a cause for concern for Garrick, he smiled oddly as he took his last heavy breath.
'I hope they live well from now onwards'
And then, like this, his body finally gave up completely as his consciousness ceased and everything went dark. In a matter of seconds, his senses shut down one after the other, following the actual situation of his figure.
November 16, 2021.
Garrick Cann Potter is dead.