Author's Note: The following is a work of
fiction. Any resemblance to persons living
or dead is purely "coincidental".
...Especially myself
...For real!
Leaning towards the wall, he threw another glance across the room, to the bed which once was his
safe haven, but now... Nothing but the deathbed of his sufferings. He pulled out his knife, dazzled by
its sharp glow, as it was one of the most beautiful things he had even seen in his whole life. Pulling
it on his wrist, all he could feel was pain, but even with that, he enjoyed it from depths of his existence.
"I gave up..." He started writing on the wall in his own blood. "Not because
I failed... Just because I never finished anything I ever started." And with a pause, staring at the words that burned through his brain, he wrote the
last line, "And this is me... in the last seconds of my incompetent life... being
honest with myself for the first time..."
'What a touching suicide note...' He thought to himself as his vision started getting blurry and his mind
drifted off to the memories he had... The memories once forgotten, but now, the only reason to make
him regret what he had just done.
And this... was his last mistake, last surrender...
"Told you you won't catch me little Em, you never do!"
This laughter was the thing he never liked. Being five, and having two older brothers is not easy
to take, especially when you build yourself an ego since your childhood unknowingly. Inability
to take defeat, is the only weakness of someone who always tries to be the best, without
even being prepared for the possible and even likely defeat.
The grin on his older brother's face was always the worst thing that mocked him, a visible and
obvious sign of defeat. Standing under the tall tree, staring up at his brother comfortably sitting
on one of the highest branches, his feeling was not unlike a dog chasing a cat, who can't
do anything but to helplessly circle around a tree and wait for his bait to finally
climb down - Such a false hope.
"Oh come on! Tell me I won... again! Admit it!"
This is the part he always hated the most, being taunted for losing an "unfair fight" - Not like
getting a chance to "fight" fair was something he was used to -. Pushing his nails into
the palms of his fisted hands, all he did was to silently turn on his heels and
slowly walk back toward the mansion.
"I won, you lost... again! Get used to it already Emmy..!"
No matter how hard he tried to ignore those words, he couldn't, and it wasn't the first time.
He remembered what his father always told him - The words of wisdom, yet
meaningless to a 5 year-old.
"My dearest Emmanuel, it's all just a game, but it nonetheless teaches you
a precious lesson about life... No one is a winner from the very beginning.
No one is born complete. If you want to be a winner, you have to word for
it, fight for it, and teach yourself to never give up, never give in, and start
over, learning from each and every of your mistakes even if you fail... Not
even once or twice, but as long and as many times as it takes..."
No matter how much these words were born out of pure experience, it was nothing but a
mere excuse for the 5-year-old Emmanuel. Maybe something that if he didn't try to forget
over childish stubbornness, would've helped him a lot later through his life.
"Manuel! Where were you sweetheart? I looked all around the house
for you!" Ignoring the boy's annoyed expression - as she was used to -,
the maid patted the boy on the back and said, "Go wash up and get
ready, it's time for dinner."
He never liked that each individual in his life called him with a distinct name, 'But that aside...
"Sweetheart"? Really?! I mean... I'm not a girl far as I can see in the mirror..!' He thought
to himself annoyed as he walked naked into the shower in his room.
The old man sitting behind his desk, too busy with his work to even notice his youngest son
sneaking into his room was always a visible figure of completeness for the young Emmanuel.
So was the room actually - Furnished with the classic style of twenty second century France,
his father's study room was the only place in the whole mansion he felt safe and comfortable.
"Papa..." The boy whispered in a weak voice, so weak that it faded within the depths
of the light music playing in the background. So, clearing his throat, he repeated
in a louder voice. "Papa..."
"Ah... Sneaking behind me you little bandit again, aren't you?!" The old man said in
a calm voice and with a warm smile on his face. "Papa... When will I finally grow up?" The boy asked weakly. "Oh you and your questions again..!" The old man
turned to the boy and with a swift move sat him on his lap.
"Emmanuel..." He started in his usual calm yet strong voice. "Being a grown-up is not
easy... Nor is it enjoyable most of the time... I mean... I would do anything to be your
age again..." Then taking a deep breath and staring down at his son's curios eyes, sitting
calmly on his lap, he continued. "All the responsibilities that come with growing up...
Trust me, no matter how good, is not worth rushing it.." After a few silent moments, the boy asked hesitantly, "You mean... You're not enjoying
your life like now?" But with a warm chuckle, the man put his hands on both sides of the
boy's face and staring deeper in his eyes he replied, "Of course I do..! We have such a
wonderful family, best in the whole universe even! How could I -not- enjoy it?" But
seeing the look on his son's face, he completely knew the young Emmanuel still doesn't
know what a precious gift he has, that nothing no matter how expensive, could replace
one's family, even the childishly hateful fights of the brothers. So, putting his hands
on the boy's shoulders, he said with a smile, "I have you... Why shouldn't I be happy?"
Later that night, hugging his teddy bear while lying on his bed, thinking about his father's words,
the kid knew there's much of it he couldn't understand yet, but one thing he knew for sure was
that talking to his father alwasy felt so good cause it calmed him more than anything else.
"Out the bed you lazy lazy monsieur!"
"Aw mom... Come on! Just five more minutes... S'il vous plait!"
Too typical for a story, I know, but that was the mother and son's everyday routine... Really!
'First year of school is always the worst.' they say, and for the young Emmanuel it wasn't an
exception either. Going to a private school with many strict rules, even though those were
supposed to discipline the students, it just made Emmanuel despite school, and skipping his
classes on and off definitely didn't help with his progress and his marks.
Getting out of his bed unwillingly, Emmanuel stretched his arms before heading to the kitchen
for a quick breakfast before school, and by the time the school shuttle stopped in front of their
home, he was already in his school uniform and ready to go.
"I hate Mondays... I really do."
He told the boy next to him soon as he sat down, to be simply ignored - A reaction he had
gotten used to by the time. One thing he hated more however, was his every-week comment
about Mondays getting ignored by not most, but all his 'friends'. Just like his many other, if not
all, comments. - Much like his presence either didn't matter for others, or if it bothered them.
The pain was too much for him to simply ignore - Unlike many other pains he had felt
throughout his life. He always thought causing a physical pain would at least lessen the
greater ones he felt inside, but now... All he could feel was the same pains, clearer than
before, and now even mixed with regret.
'Regret...' The one word that echoed in his ears and pierced its way deep into his brain.
One word, but so strong that it could change any decision... Unless it was already too late...
Unless he didn't have the ability to change the outcome of what he had done...
Staring down at his bleeding wrist, he was condemned to witness the passing of every
second of every minute, as every last drop of life crawled its way out of his veins...
...Slowly and painfully.
'So this is why they say when you die... You see your whole life pass in front
of your eyes like an illusion, a dream... But when they say you'll be stuck in
your last moment when you die... Is when I do hope no one really knows how
death really feels like when it happens...'
Hearing himself think felt as if the thoughts didn't really belong to him... Much like he was
carefully listening to someone else whisper, or as if someone else was telling him what to
think. Feeling of memories passing in front of his eyes so quickly he couldn't understand
most of it, as if he couldn't actually 'remember' them felt so familiar... All of it just felt like
a bad dream. A dream you'd tell yourself over and over that is not real, but you couldn't
even believe your own words.
As he inhaled the warm smoke of his cigarette, carelessly and half-drunk picking up
the bottle of wine and drinking what was left of it in an indifferent swing, then rolling
the bottle to a corner of his room, next to the pile of other bottles, stared at the
empty wall in front of him as he exhaled a cold breath that had not much left of the
smoke he expected to make a thin curtain in front of him.
Letting all his weight on his left hand, the 17-year-old Emmanuel pushed himself off
the floor and walked to his bed, nearly losing balance a few times on the way. As he
collapsed on his bed, he closed his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep, and yet...
failing like any other night.
As he blinked once before closing his eyes again, he could catch a glimps of the clock
next to his bed and dark sky outside the window - 4:29 AM.
The teacher shouted as he threw the large dice he called 'Wake-up cube' at the boy
laying his head on his desk near the end of the classroom. Most teachers were already
used to the young Emmanuel sleeping through most of his classes, but the astronomy
teacher was always a difference.
"I take it as you don't have a bed in your home monsieur Pradier?"
The old man said in a bitter voice as the boy tossed the dice back to him and muttered
'Oh shut up already!'. No one really knew why he was always asleep during his school
hours, mainly because no one really cared. All they knew was the unpleasant
Emmanuelwas better asleep than awake - Because of his hostile behavior
toward his 'friends'.
Most teachers didn't really care either, because despite being asleep most of the time,
his marks were always above average, so the astronomy class was always the worst
for him, with the old teacher's 'Wake-up cube' flying to him every five minutes.
Said the girl to the rest of the group sitting in the school yard.
"But he's so cute..!" Replied another girl.
It was their usual gossip - The boy who was so attractive that even his hostile
attitude toward everyone, especially the girls, didn't stop them from fancying him.
"But he treats girls like dirt, and you know it!"
Commented another girl, looking at the boy on the other side of the yard who
was leaning to a tree and playing with something small in his hand without paying
slightest attention to what was going on around him.
"Well, I've been in the same class with him for three years now..!
That should mean something, oui?"
Said the second girl, looking at the boy again but turning back to her friends as
they all started to giggle at the same time.
"I bet he haven't even noticed that!"
Said the first girl, as the boy put the small piece in his pocket and walked back
to school building.
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