"Cosmos Starlight... You're, you're a MONSTER." Her shrill voice rang in my ears. Those harsh words, they are something that I will remember till the day I die—not because they were the cruelest thing anyone has ever said to me, but because of how they were said. They carried pain, sadness, fear, anger, and a hint of disappointment, all packed into a few words.
I had never considered myself to be a bad person. But then again, who does? Even a murderer finds excuses for his deeds, proclaiming his righteousness to the world. But is he right or wrong? How can we say for sure? What is right or wrong, anyway? Is killing bad? Then why do we praise soldiers who kill to protect their country? They are murderers too. Is it the intention that matters?
No, that's not it. If a boy steals to feed his young siblings, he is an angel to them but a thief to the person he stole from. It's subjective. A person can be good and bad at the same time. So, am I good or evil?
I mentally took a few steps back and looked at the amalgamation of my past decisions and actions, and the potential for future feats and failures. But just looking at him—looking at myself—did not tell me enough to judge.
His name was Cosmos Starlight, a rather ironic name since nothing about him screamed cosmos. He looked like a completely normal person. Everything about him seemed ordinary. His black eyes, set in a face of indeterminate features, stood 170 cm above the ground, partially covered by thick black hair parted in the middle. His clothes, although made of the finest fabric, were a little too big for him. To an outsider, he was simply an average 17-year-old high school student. So what about him was unique? What about him was cosmic? What about him was evil?
Observing the scene, I understand why she called him a monster. He betrayed her trust and expectations. He stripped her of everything she loved and cherished, and her life was about to end, thanks to him. To her, he was a monster. But to the young man, this was just a means to the end he desired. Was he wrong to work for his dream? No. Was he wrong in the methods he chose to pursue his dreams? Certainly.
But how did I get here? What went wrong, leading me to this point? It was that day, wasn't it? If I had chosen differently then, how would things be today? The past decides the present, the present decides the future. Nothing happens without a reason. Whatever is happening now was caused by a reason my past self created. So what reason should I create now to achieve my dreams in the future while still remaining human?
But right now, at this point, I am...
"That's right, I am a MONSTER."