He wanted to scream, to let out all the rage and fear that was boiling inside him. 'I didn't ask for any of this!'
Images of his past life flooded his mind—his old job, his home, his family. He had been the youngest prodigy in his profession. He finally had it all, or so he thought. Now, all of it felt like a distant dream. He could picture his parents' faces, smiling proudly at their only son. 'If I never return, what will they do? How will they live without me?'
The images in his memories shifted again as he went through the agonising period of his childhood where he was ostracised every single day at home for not being what his parents hoped him to be, at school for not being what others students could accept as their own. His entire life before he finally found his calling was full of self pessimism and a twisted alienation from people around him. He didn't know the reason, nor did he know now.
All he ever wanted was to live a normal life where his parents would be proud of him and someone who can understand him and doesn't have to hide his thoughts from everyone around him. Was it too much to ask from this world? Was it really that hard for him to finally get a normal life? Then why was this happening?
Tears threatened to break through, but none came. He was too numb to cry anymore. He glanced at Tamara in his memories, her figure glowing like a distant jewel. In the chaos, she was his only anchor, his only reminder of home. She took care of him like a child and they were going to be together forever. But, now that was a distant dream, so distant that he would rather die than go through what he already had to go through most of his life.
He wanted to go back to the corner in his room where he used to cry and sit there like a child, Never to come back again and free of this world that threatened to destroy every happiness he wanted.
He slowly crawled through his memories as he finally saw the room, his childhood room, small and empty with nothing but a simple bed, a table with few books and his PC and finally an old cupboard. The plain white walls that had paled over time gave a ghastly and gloomy vibe. There was not a single window to be seen and the only source of light was a single LED. He looked at the table, the only part of his childhood that he remembered fondly along with a corner by the bed where he would hide and cry. That corner was special because it was the only part of the room where he could cry without getting discovered by his parents that would abruptly enter the room. When they would call him, he would make excuses about finding something or doing something. His eyes never betrayed his words, somehow he had learned how to hide even his intense emotions in just a spur of moments. His parents never believing that he had anything to worry about made them abject to such a situation.
He slowly walked in the room, his legs automatically moved towards the table but he wasn't able to touch his books or the PC, he kept walking and slowly sat in the corner. The walls didn't disappear. His head hung in between his crossed legs and tried to shrink as much as possible as if he could submerge his existence in himself in the most gruesome manner. His nails clenched his hands and slowly pierced the soft skin as droplets of blood started to fall. Now, he was finally home, at peace, away from everything and everyone that would hurt him ever.
He stayed in that position for a long time, time stood still as the lonely figure in the corner seemed to be at an ethereal peace. The image of the room was slowly fading. The pale walls and the shoddy bed, the table and even the ground was lost in avast darkness. Only the corner of the room remained with an adult that was slowly losing his adult features as his stature kept getting shorter and after some time, instead of a tired adult, a weak and scared child around 10 years of his age was present in that corner. A perfectly fitting image that most adults with a childhood trauma can easily image and associate with.
While the changes slowly tool place outside, the ordeal inside the child's mind was no less.
'Why do these things happen to me?' he kept asking himself this question as more and more thoughts kept clouding his minds as if waiting to eat it up.
'Do I really not deserve any happiness or even peace?' the insecurities and self doubt hidden deep in his heart again were filling his unsettled mind.
'I tried! I tried every single day but even then no one! Not a single person wanted to be with me or act like I was normal. Even my parents never saw me the way I was. What I was even to them? I don't even know the answer. But I still love them for everything, even if it wasn't enough'
His mind was adrift between different lines of thoughts overlapping and stretching to each other. Was it really just an illusion? Or is this how he felt everyday but kept layering it with self determination which was finally destroyed to bits in this situation.
Childs rational mind kept opposing the thoughts hat tried to devour him. Was he not an exceptional child? Who survived against all odds? Isn't he much more aware than others about how the world actually works and some people are just unlucky to be the way they are?
How hard was it to accept the idea again that he just belonged to a group where either you give up your dreams or fight with the world every single day to continue your existence the way you want.
Sorken used to think that the people who do not indulge themselves in intellectual pursuit are dumb or stupid. But over time, he had realised that unlike them, he was incomplete. Because the mind was supposed to keep you hidden from the dangers of this world, in the form of ideas as well as thoughts. Why does it matter to him at this moment? Because a complete mind would have long forgotten the things that formed the foundation of his nightmare. The insults hurled at him by the people who were complete would have never been elements of his nightmare. He was trapped not in the nightmare, but in the guilt formed by his incomplete self that has turned into a nightmare worse than what he was supposed to go through.
'Do I have to fight again? Do I have to do anything? Isn't it easy to let my being fade away?' the child suddenly opened his eyes in the nightmare as his childish features again changed to that of an adult. A self deprecating laugh escaped his mouth as his hands leapt in the air.
He stood up, either slowly or abruptly, a certain charm of someone with no hope but ready to be destroyed and destroy. He felt himself going a bit crazy but he didn't want to stop or reflect on it.
He stretched his posture as he lifted one of hand in the hair, with his head looking up to it while his second hand slowly took its place behind his back. His legs one stretched back and the other in a half-sitting posture. This scene would have been something beautiful to some people if not for the person doing it, who as the reflection of his physical self was in a ragged state. The scene was uncomfortable to witness.
"La lala la lala la lalaa" Sorken, now again an adult slowly mumbled as his hands and legs moved In an disorganised manner he started to jump and laugh, imagining a beat he used to love. He kept jumping in a manner that was hard to consider dance. His hands move sometimes in sync, other times arbitrarily. His legs jumped and spun. His face exhumed a smile like no other. He felt like himself. A weird but passionate person trying to find his place in this world. Maybe he will be killed in the next few minutes. But, if he survived somehow, he will fight again and dance again.
He clenched his fists, a fire igniting within him. 'I'll survive this. I'll find a way out of this nightmare, no matter what it takes.'
Slowly he stopped his dance as he slumped on the ground as he saw the darkness engulfing his mental space slowly. He knew he would survive. So he just kept watching the enchanting scene, where everything around him was destroyed but only a small beam of light in the corner remained. A corner all for himself, in a destroyed world, even if imaginary was a romantic site to behold. A twisted love for the horror and abstract since his childhood finally came to life in this nightmare. Ironic as it may seem, it was a perfect completion of one of his dreams.
'Maybe this world, if given enough time, will be the place where I can be myself' his laugh, in his mind was shrouded in his maniacal laugh for his overall situation.
As this thought went through his mind, his eyes jerked open.