Disappear with the shadow.
Let the sound of the wind disguise the sound of your steps
You smell in tune with the natural foliage
Teenagers in ninja-style clothes, sitting knelt in a room with minimal lighting. At fifteen, he must be sure he is not a loser who cannot inherit the Kennedy name from his family.
"Young master, the Great Master is looking for you."
The young man held his breath. He opened his eyelids slowly. He exited his training room, passing through the bamboo forest behind his house in the remote mountains.
When he arrived at the main house, the teenager saw his Father sitting on his knees, staring at the altar. "Father," he called.
"Sit down Claud!"
Claud sat down on his Father's back. Father's Father turned. Father Claud could see a sword being thrust at him. "Name our family rules!"
"Politeness is a weapon. Manners are a shield and strength comes from a calm heart." Claud never even saw his Father's eyes when he Father him. Not out of fear but out of fear and respect. "Hmm... you are 15 years old today."
"Yes Father," said Claud.
"Cale, come in."
Claud lowered his head when he heard his brother's feet entering the room. He turned and found his older brother smiling at him. Although they were four years apart, he and his wife were close. The older brother takes too much care of the younger brother, and Claud is too proud of Cale, whom he always considered his life motivation.
"Claud, take this sword!" The Father's returns Claud from his daydreams.
"Yes, Father," replied Claud, grabbing a sword that could be said to be a legacy sword, given from generation to generation. His older brother got his sword at the same age as Claud.
"Then fight! Bring your brother's head to me."
WHAT?!
The two brothers stared at their Father.
"This Father a joke, I'm asking for your brother's head. This is an order from me and your ancestors."
"But how can?" Claud even heard his Father's orders. "Father's is the rule of our family. It is the most powerful who can inherit the Kennedy family name."
TRANG!
The door's closed. Only he and his brother remained in the ancestral altar room. "Brother..." Claud tried to be pitiful.
"Let's kill each other, Claud!" said Cale with a smile.
~G.0.D~
A boy gazes at the snow falling from the sky that fills his yard from his bedroom window. He sighed-bored he thought. He walked out of his room—into the kitchen, hoping the nanny would provide him a glass of hot chocolate. He felt his body needed to be warmed.
"Hm, no one, huh?" He asked nothing.
A voice disturbed him. "Nanny?" he called to the nanny, who also did not get an answer. A koala doll in his arms tightly to drive away the fear that felt increasingly haunting him.
A large hand smothered his mouth and held his body. He looked up and found his Father and mother, who had pale faces and cold sweat. "Mama? Papa?" he called out.
The mother only signaled to him to be quiet. The boy obeyed, letting his Father and mother find him in his room. "Marvin... look at this!" The Father hurried out a hand-written book from his pocket. The boy- Marvin, again obeyed, looking at the pages one by one as the Father flipped Fatherh the paper for him.
When the last page was finished, Marvin looked. The Father looked Father, the son. "Listen, Marvin! Whatever happens, promise me you won't forget the whole thing you saw. Show it to someone you trust. Got it, son?"
Marvin nodded, then the mother quickly pulled the boy's body into his wardrobe. "Don't let them find her and kill you, baby! Live until peace envelops this world," said the mother, closing the closet door quickly.
The sound of Marvin's bedroom door being smashed was heard. Marvin peered out of the gap of his closet, which had still a little left. Seeing and witnessing how his Father burned his Father, which was shown to him in front of several people, seemed like Marvin suspected a criminal.
"Shit! What are you doing?!" yelled one of them. "Kill the woman and bring Prof. Lawrence! We'll tell him to copy back," another command.
Marvin could see it. When the mother returned a silent gesture to her. It was the only koala he could hug. It was like he wanted to scream, save the mother who was shot with a gun that don't know what kind. "Mama?" he whispered into his own mouth. Then he heard his Father's cry. "Papa..."
~G.0.D~
"Excuse me, Excuse me," a student ran down the corridor of his faculty. His breath sounded muffled, and his heart was racing fast. For what? Who dares to turn his alarm clock to seven o'clock while he has to get in at half past eight in the morning?
"I'm so sorry sir!" he said as he opened his classroom door. The lecturer only raised his glasses, staring intently at the friendly-looking student like an angel. A smile that gave her comfort. He bowed politely. "I'm so sorry!"
"Gilbert, Stop to say Sorry! I do like it. Come in!" the lecturer orders. The student is not an outstanding student. The killer lecturer with extraordinary genius seemed to know his students well enough.
"Thanks!"
"Ok, sorry for the inconvenience earlier. Please write your thoughts on Multiple Identity Disorder."
~G.0.D~
"God... please, give me peace in this world. Have mercy on the sinners of the Earth. Your hands are always open to us and I know you are looking at us," the prayer sounded sweetly like a morning hum in one of the rooms of an orphanage for war victims in the Norwegian area.
"Andrew... are you praying again? Aren't you bored?" cursed a man when a teenager came out of the house of prayer. Andrew Miguel Roderick, a teenager who has a hobby of Praying, was smiling, showing off his dimple, which looked so handsome.
Andrew stepped into the middle of a large and reasonably beautiful orphanage yard. He took out his picture book from his bag. In the picture, a pretty woman is a caretaker of the orphanage. "Why did you draw it? Do you like it?" Andrew asked.
Smile back.
He then painted the entire parlor that he could see from his point of view. Back to asking questions to young men his age, they are still engrossed in seeing what he is doing. "Why are you—" the young man's question was cut short as Siwon began to paint a massive fire in the picture of his pants.
"I'm just describing a future that will end," Andrew said. And friends... I will never tire of asking God because he has not betrayed me."
"God killed your parents."
"It was worth it."
~G.0.D~
One of the students with reddish hair stepped into Harvard's pride auditorium. With a smile full of pride and confidence, he introduced himself.
"My name is Jesse Selafiel Lyrc. I am introducing a cancer treatment drug. Here's how it works." He pointed to the giant hologram beside him. I began to explain this and that, which everyone who was there responded to with incredulous looks.
"Genius!"
"He's the future Avicenna!"
~G.0.D~
A fat man swallowed his saliva nervously. He repeatedly prayed for her through his heart. He slowly shifted his cursor. "Hey! Calm down Mattew! You will get the correct IP according to your ability."
"Yes, I hope so," the young man said nervously. He ventured to click OK after previously entering his student identity.
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"YOU SEE! I GOT FOUR-POINT ZEROS! My scholarship!" he cried hysterically.
"I hope you're a good student in the next two years," he said as he looked at his friend. "I hope I will be able to write a new law on World Peace one day," the fat man continued with a grin.
~G.0.D~
2 years later...
"Congratulations on your success, Gilbert," a voice greeted a young blonde in her graduation dress from the stage.
The young man named Gilbert Havryll Abraham smiled, revealing a dimple on his cheek. "Thanks, prof."
"So, can I know what do you want to do? I know you are a genius student," praised the lecturer, making Gilbert display his grin. A little ashamed of the lecturer's excessive praise.
"I haven't thought about it yet," Gilbert replied later.
The professor tapped his shoulder. "If you're interested, I'll take you to a pretty big mental hospital in Wasington."
"I will consider it, Sir. May I ask why it's always crowded? I failed to do my research there while preparing my thesis, Sir."
"Hmm... many families and victims of war who entered there lately," the lecturer said, putting on his thinking face, trying to remember some of his patients.
Gilbert put on a wounded face-he didn't think it had to be like that. "So sorry to hear that."
"Sir, I think I've found my purpose."
The lecturer smiled and patted his genius student on the shoulder several times. "Then I can't force you anymore," Gilbert laughed again—he really understood.
Yeah... it reminded me of my dream before I went to college.
And it still remains the same...
World peace.
"Well, I have to find someone who can make that happen," Gilbert looked back at the lecturer. The old lecturer laughed and handed a piece of paper from his suit pocket. "I hope he can help you. Ask him what you need."
"Dexmon Sammael Anderson?"
"Yes... He is my patient in San Francisco psychiatric hospital."