Ah, where am I? Why am I crying? Am I laughing? Hahahaha. I think I'm going crazy.
He looked at himself in the figure-size mirror and saw an ugly face crying and laughing at the same time.
What an ugly face if others saw me like this! I would surely be ashamed to show myself off in front of everyone again.
In the end, this is just a dream. A dream that I don't like. Since I'm already in this shop where no one can see nor understand my existence. I might as well try on some clothes before the scene changes places. Enjoy~
His somewhat crazy expression slowly receded as he regained his usual calm. Much more calm than a deep, dark green, cold pool. Among the many stylish suits around, he picked a black blazer, a white t-shirt, a silver dog tag necklace, long black pants, and a dull black pair of shoes.
Somehow, as he looked at the mirror. Some kind of evil feeling suddenly surged out of his heart, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. Who cares?
I'm actually showing no expression on my face right now, huh? Did I break? Looking at his dull and expressionless face. Those dull eyes that have lost all motivation and goals in life.
Ah, I can't even laugh anymore. Then he found a black watch and a pair of sunglasses with him, and he wore them both. "Perfect."
With a last look, the whole scenery turned dark. What appeared next was him being underwater, where small bubbles floated up around him. A small ball of white filled with colorful hues was suspended just above him, not far from away.
Right now, at this moment, he doesn't know what to do anymore. All he was feeling now was to just stay put and see the happening to him to the end of where it would take him.
As for thinking, how can he still breathe in this bright and deep ocean? That wasn't important to him anymore. It might be an illusion that isn't real this time.
Then a fantasy-like scenario appeared. Am I seeing things? He took a deep breath and exhaled deeply. Bubbles came out of his mouth as his mind cleared upon noticing something horrifying.
It's real, I can see it with my eyes. There is a dark blue shark with eight wings slowly flapping its fin wings towards himself. if his gut was telling him that it was going to kill him. Then it must be an enemy.
His eyes turn dimmer and duller. He remembered those times when he was left out of every school event. He remembered his friends, who were protagonists in every moment.
It's always like this or like that. If they got pissed, they would turn angry at him. In the opposite situation, even if he got angry or was mocked, he could only laugh it off. In order to not be left out of the circle. He had to be humble at all times and apologize when necessary.
That was the life of the weak. It is how school has always been. It was a matter of social survival.
All those feelings he had been bottling in his heart during those days he had been keeping so deeply that he had almost forgotten them were it not for this time. He didn't even bother to explain why he was remembering it now.
Because, at that moment, the strange eight-winged shark arrived in front of him with its wide-open serrated teeth ready to bite him to pieces. Instead of feeling fear like how he should.
He suddenly felt, that, since he was hopeless anyway. Why not make do with this strange monster in front of him before dying? Why not fight to death with it? Instead of just standing there and dying in a gruesome way. At least I wanted to experience fighting this monster once.
He felt angry. The fury that started to burn within him was being fueled by his negativity. Kill this ugly beast! Kill it like I want to kill him! I want it dead—die, die, die, die, die, die, die! DIE!
He lifted up his arms and clenched his palms into fists. It was the first time he used all the muscles he can muster in his body without care. All his focus was on what was in front of him.
And then he punched. Bang!
A right hook!
The eight-winged shark was punched to the side as its slippery skin turned red from the force of his fist. Weak!
Naturally, how could he stop with just a punch?
At this moment, when his first fist landed, his reason had already flown away. What followed was punch after punch, fist after fist, that continued to barrage the unlucky shark's face into bruises.
However, he didn't stop. Instead, he went even madder. He suddenly targeted its eyes as he punched a hole in it. He trembled, but he didn't stop.
He pushed his fist in and crushed the eight-winged shark's brain to mush before withdrawing his bloody arms. He felt his bloody hand go numb and was shaking. He shook that feeling that was crawling in his heart as he once again punched a hole in its body.
He only stopped when he finally tore the monster into pieces using his hands and teeth. He just stood by the side, looking dazedly at the red water around him.
He shook his dirty hands to clean himself before swimming away. Remembering what he had just done, he felt his heart twitch with an emotion he didn't like. Is it moral? Or guilt?
He didn't know, but what he could understand was that he didn't want to experience what the monster in front of him had felt. Nor do he wants to do it again.
He was afraid, but he was also hopeless. He can only stand there, dazed.
What was life actually like? This thought would always appear in his mind, questioning his very existence. No, it was the very existence of why we still live when we were going to die anyway.
Am I still sane? I am... I'm clearly sane right now. Rationality finally took over his mind after he blew out all of his bottled-up emotions. The feeling of emptiness and coldness made him calm but not comfortable. "Its cold."
It felt lacking, no matter what he wanted to think. In the end, this was what he was. A psychopath murderer and a coward deep down. He had to be thankful that he grew up restrained by the morals and laws of modern societies.
If not, he might not take it and might have committed sins he can't take back.
He closed his eyes, feeling somewhat tired and sleepy. He was sleepy. Am I not in a dream? Strange...
He was closing his eyes and was about to go to sleep. He felt the water around him, and the red part plus those broken pieces of flesh of the monster swirled before turning into a red crescent moon symbol flashing a dim, evil red glow.
Then his vision turned black. The next thing that he saw was a clear, familiar underwater The sun's piercing sunlight coming from above, the already cloudless sky, and the rundown, holed mud house not far away
So, it's a dream after all. What a strange dream! He stood up and came out of the water feeling refreshed. He was suddenly surprised to feel that all the discomfort he was feeling a while ago had suddenly disappeared, like it never even existed. He looked at the pond and felt it was no simple pond.
It might have some healing properties. It might be why he was still alive after what happened back on earth. The reason he suddenly turned young
"It looks like I don't need to worry about getting sick anymore." Somehow, he wanted to smile at knowing this event. He suddenly felt like he forgot how to do it. How do I smile again?
He turned silent, lifted both hands, and used his fingers to bend the edges of his lips upwards. "I forgot to smile anymore. All because of that dream. Sigh."
"Forget it; it's not important anymore." That's right, whether you smile or not. What was important was the peace found in carefreeness. Without trouble, all things will be calm for one to enjoy."
Without problems or obstacles, there will be no pain to endure.
That's just how he wants to live.
He walked back to his shelter and wore the already dry inner clothes and the suit pants part as well as the pair of booths.
After some stretches, he let the wet branches dry too. As he forgot to dry them when he was drying his clothes before. Fever would turn all beings into fools.
So he started working once again. This time, he planned to hunt another animal not far away. He might need to throw out the meat he had smoked and stored after it got wet from the rain if it started turning bad.
"I might as well use it to lure the prey I'm going to target this time." He made up his mind.