"Tonight's news on April thirteenth: Over the past week, the conflicts between the East and West have reached an all-time high."
"We have reports that the cause is the rising tension and terrorist attacks that have occurred over the past weeks. These conflicts are expected to lead to an all-time low in trade and production. It has been more than five years since the great strike that crippled all digital currency, leading to a great fall and recession."
"We have reports that, sooner or later, a cold war is rising between the great powers. Many nations have deployed their armies, securing their borders and protecting weak spots. These signs do not mark the end, for we know this is only the beginning of something more something vicious."
Turning off the TV, I hoped for something more calming to the mind, but instead, I got something that gave me a headache.
Lying down on the couch, I tried to get up. But before I could stand, I felt like my stomach had been hammered, and my throat was as dry as sand. As gravity pulled me back down, I sat once again and checked my phone. It was three o'clock. I still had two more hours. I remembered I had taken my pain relief pill late, and I had one more hour before it kicked in.
Setting an hour alarm on my phone, I decided to take a nap. Even though I had only woken up a couple of hours ago, I wanted my body to be in the best shape for the trip that could lead me to a job.
Falling into sleep, a tiny feeling crawled into my mind. The uncertainty of what was to come gave me the illusion of an idea forming as I slept. I wasn't speaking, but my mind was.
The body is strange, taking control like a father to a son, knowing what is best. The father looked at the son, watching him play in the garden of darkness. The garden was dark and grim, with dead grass, but in that death, there stood a tree of life.
In the center of the garden, the tree stood. It was not of the son's world, but of the father's world—grim, dark, and black—yet its skin was gold, absorbing all the light of the garden.
The boy played with a butterfly, chasing it, wanting to catch it. But each time the boy tried, the butterfly phased out as if it didn't exist, like it was never there.
"Stop!" the boy said, looking at the butterfly that mocked him, staring back.
"This isn't fair. Is this not a game?" the boy asked, falling to the ground, tired and angered by the butterfly.
"Then what do you wish to be fair?" the butterfly asked.
"For you to show me your path," the boy said.
"But if I showed you the path, would that not lead to my death?" the butterfly replied, closing in and questioning the boy.
"I never said I would kill you. All I want is a chance, a chance to see you. Is that not fair? Are you even real? How can I catch something that isn't real, something that isn't there, as if it was all a dream and nothing more?"
"To catch me, you need to know me before my existence. Then let's play," the butterfly said. No sign of fear could be seen in the butterfly.
Once the boy got up, he saw the garden as if it were waves, moving between the past and present.
"There is a beginning to everything, and it all starts with a thought," the boy said, running toward the butterfly.
The boy reached for the butterfly, seeing the path to the right, left, above, and below. He saw the path curve like the light of time—clear but bright. The garden shook as he reached for the butterfly of the past and present.
Closing his hands, "I got you now..." But opening his hands, the boy saw nothing but his flesh.
"What? How is this possible?" the boy asked, only to find the butterfly behind his feet.
"I never said I had a beginning or an end. For some existences, they do not breathe, do not hide—they are silent and born from nothingness. I am that of nothingness. I was born of nothing, and in it, I have no beginning."
"But how can you be born of nothing, as if wind had no force, as if rain had no father of its own?"
"Yes, I am that of rain and wind. I was born only to be nothing, just like you," the butterfly said, vanishing into the darkness.
"Game over," the boy said, looking at the garden of darkness before falling back into nothingness.