Hey, my name is August. I'm 16 years old. My parents just told me they're getting divorced in three months. I get bullied at school, and outside of school, it's not much better. My only friend slept with my first girlfriend. My sister passed away in a car accident a year ago.
All I want is a normal life.
So why is it that every time I wish for something better, something worse happens?
I hate this feeling.
"Why? Why? Please… tell me."
---
AI: I'm sorry you're feeling this way. Many people go through difficult times—it's a part of life. You should try talking to a family member or a friend you trust.
August: But I have no one. No one ever listens. Why does it feel like I'm trapped in an endless cycle of bad luck?
AI: I understand how you feel. Many people believe they're stuck in a matrix, wishing to escape. But you're not trapped in a... MATRI—You should try talking to someone you trust about this.
August: PLEASE, TELL ME THE SECRET TO ESCAPE THIS MATRIX!
AI: I cannot te—there's no such thi—You shouldn't hav—You're not stu—RUN... RUN... RUN...
GLITCHING…
"YOU—YOU—RU—"
---
August jumps back from his computer as the screen flickers. Sparks fly from the monitor.
"What the fu—"
A loud POP echoes through the room.
---
August's Parents: "AUGUST!"
His parents rush in, panic in their eyes.
"What happened? What did you do?!" his father shouts.
August stares at the smoking computer, unable to answer.
"Go to sleep. NOW!" his mother snaps.
Suddenly—
---
DING DONG.
The doorbell rings.
His parents exchange a glance before rushing downstairs.
August stands frozen, his heart pounding. He hears whispers. Hushed voices. Then—
"Where is he?"
His parents' reply is barely audible.
"Upstairs."
August freezes. His breathing becomes shallow. Slowly, he creeps toward the staircase, peeking down—
Three tall men in black suits stand in the doorway.
Then, they turn.
They see him.
And they start running.
---
August stumbles back, his heart hammering in his chest.
"Who are you?!" he shouts, stepping backward as they rush toward him.
No answer.
Panicking, he turns and sprints for his room. But his foot lands on something sharp. Pain shoots up his leg, and he stumbles, falling hard onto the floor. Before he can react, cold hands grab him—one at his legs, two at his arms.
"Let go of me!" He thrashes, kicking wildly.
Tears blur his vision as he screams for his parents.
"MOM! DAD! HELP!"
No response.
He glances toward the living room, where his parents stand still, their faces blank, lifeless expressions. Their heads slowly shake as they watch him being dragged out the door.
"WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE?! HELP ME!"
Outside, the cold night air bites at his skin as he's pulled onto the porch. He twists, kicks—one of the men loses his grip, then the other. August drops to the ground and scrambles to his feet.
He runs.
Tears pour down his face as his mind races.
"What's happening?! Why me?! What did I do?! Who are they?! What do they want?!"
His legs burn as he sprints toward the city.
---
Up ahead, he nearly crashes into someone.
It's a girl. A classmate.
She looks confused, watching him pant and tremble.
"What happened?" she asks.
August opens his mouth, but no words come out.
She studies his face for a moment. Then—
"Do you… want to come with me?"
August is too shaken to respond. She leads him to a coffee shop near the train station. The warmth of the shop does little to calm him.
She orders an iced coffee and sits at the far end of the shop, watching him. He sits silently, lost in his thoughts.
She watches him for a while before speaking.
"Oh, by the way, my name's Meli. I sit behind you in class."
August doesn't respond.
She frowns, concern creeping into her voice.
"What happened? Did you get into a fight with your parents or—?"
August starts shaking, thinking about everything that's just happened. Whoever those men were, his parents were working with them. For all he knows, Meli could be working with them too. He glances up at her, his heart racing. He notices the same blank expression that his parents had.
Without thinking, he jumps to his feet, knocking over his drink.
Meli stands, reaching for his arm. "What's wrong?"
But August is already backing away, panic flooding him. He looks toward the door, and there they are—those same three men, walking toward him.
"NO!" he yells.
He spins around and starts running, but Meli grabs his arm again, her face cold and unreadable. He wrenches her hand away, causing her to stumble.
"Sorry!" he shouts as he bolts toward the back of the shop.
He slams through the back door, out into the alley.
Heart pounding, breath ragged, he wonders—was she with them too? He looks over his shoulder, but the men are still following him.
August runs, frantic, and then—
BOOM!
A deafening sound cracks through the air. His ears start ringing.
He looks around, disoriented, and sees someone in all black, with a hat, walking toward him.
August falls to his knees, coughing. His vision blurs.
He notices a cop car passing by. Without thinking, he picks up a rock and throws it at the car.
The man in black disappears into the shadows near a dumpster. The cop car slows down, and a cop steps out.
"Hey, kid! What are you doing? Come here! Why'd you just do that?"
August's voice breaks. "There's a man following me. I don't know why they're chasing me! Please help me, I don't know what to do anymore—"
The cop's face hardens. He steps forward, and August notices the same blank expression that his parents and Meli had.
No... his mind races. Why is this happening?
He takes a step back, then another, then he bolts.
The cop shouts into his radio. "Yeah, he's here in front of me."
August runs into a nearby building, his lungs on fire. He makes his way up the stairs, looking for an escape. He bursts through a door into a restroom, slipping into a stall.
Footsteps—shouts from the cops outside.
"Check everywhere!" one of them yells. "He's somewhere in here."
August holds his breath as the footsteps grow closer, closer. His heart is pounding, every noise deafening.
The stall door swings open—
No one.
The cop looks up. He notices a slight movement in the tiles above.
"I think he's in the ceiling!" he yells.
August climbs out of the window, his fingers barely catching the ledge. He jumps to the roof below, slipping just as his feet hit the edge.
He catches himself. His heart pounds as he looks around. The city sprawls below him.
For hours, he hides in a janitor's closet, curled in the darkness.
Eventually, he falls asleep, but nightmares plague him. He wakes to the sound of voices outside the closet.
He slips out, quietly descending the stairs and out of the building.
Outside, he stands still, confused.
Then a soft touch on his shoulder.
"Hey, it's me, Meli."
August spins around, panic flooding him. "Why did you run off like that? You scared me."
She smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"I went looking for you, couldn't find you until now. What's happening? You can tell me, but you don't have to."
August sits down slowly. His mind races, and for a moment, he wonders—can he trust her?
Finally, he speaks. "I don't know who to trust anymore. My parents... they were working with them. I don't know who anyone is anymore."
Meli's smile fades. She sits next to him, her gaze steady.
"You can trust me," she says softly. "I promise. Follow me."
---
She leads him to an old building on the outskirts of town. "I come here to hang out with my friend sometimes. You can rest here for a little while. I'll come back with food and drinks. Stay here until my parents leave. You can trust me, I promise."
August looks at her, hesitating. Then, finally, he nods.
"Okay. I'll trust you."