An Author walks up to a table with a single candle and a book perched on its prestigious wood, the light of the candle providing the only light and hope necessary for what he was about to do.
The Author sat down and wrote and asked,
" Loneliness, what is it?
What can you do about it?
How can you solve it ?"
Then he asked an even bigger question,
" Is loneliness something that needs solving in the first place?"
To all these questions, the Author had no answer, so he just closed his book and sighed.
"This is number 777, right? Well, I guess. Hopefully, next time I will be able to answer this question."
He sighed as he closed the book, and the candlelight went out.
The Author then lay down and closed his eyes as he felt the darkness hug him tightly and sleep hug him tighter.
As he succumbed to sleep, he whispered, " Maybe next time."
The Author then fell asleep on the cold but welcoming floor of the temple
-----
The scent of fresh coffee filled the kitchen as Elijah carefully poured two cups, his hands moving with the ease of routine. The sun had barely crept over the horizon, casting golden light through the window. The quiet hum of the morning was interrupted only by the occasional clatter of pans as he prepared breakfast for his wife, Anna, and their two children.
He moved through the house with purpose that the kids were awake, in some sense of the word, started setting their plates, and he pressed a soft kiss to Anna's forehead as she walked in from their bedroom and murmured sleepily
"Thank you, honey,"
As she felt his lips on her forehead. This was his world, his life-simple, structured, and filled with love.
After breakfast, he put all their dishes in the sink and stepped into the bathroom, turning the shower on until steam clouded the air. He just stood in the hot water raining down on him, going all in and encapsulating his buff body will he cleared his mind for the day ahead. When he wiped the mirror, expecting to see his reflection, he was met with a hazy, distorted image. His features were obscured, as though the fog refused to clear. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and sighed, and ignored it, knowing if he got annoyed, he won't be able to get past the rest of the day. "Probably just the steam, " he reasoned.
Dressed and ready in his blue and white polka dotted tie black solid shoes and his dark blue suit and pants, Elijah kissed his wife and children goodbye, dropping the kids off at school waving and smiling at them while they run and race each other to class as Elijah shakes his head while laughing and thinking of the many times he did that with his brother, or the the many times he, wished he, did that with his brother but he just smiled and heading to work. The office was exactly as it had always been-a place of forced smiles and veiled hostility, but a strange, welcoming feeling to those who know it all too well. It was toxic yet familiar, a place where memories clung to the walls like old wallpaper. He then takes an elevator to his floor, and as soon as Elijah arrives, he goes to his office block and sits down in a too-familiar, uncomfortable chair. Elijah stands up and pulls out a small pillow from his computer bag, and puts it down on his chair as he sits down again, making it that little bit more bearable.
By midday, he decided to take his break early, stepping outside, taking the elevator down with his coworker, Darren, who quickly, after not clearly wanting to spend another hour with Darren, not being by his side made life just a little bit more bearable. The city streets were alive with the usual buzz of people as they walked and talked,
"So how has the family and wife been, old chum?"
Darren said, clearly exasperated by the work they had just done in the morning alone
"They have been good. How about yourself? You seem to be having it rough."
Elijah said with an almost half-laughing smile
"You think life's been rough, no wife, no kids at 20, is what do the kids say nowadays, crazy right?"
Darren says with a defeated expression.
"Yeah, I get that, but I am really worried about Emily, my daughter, she's too innocent... I feel like I should teach her to be stronger, like her brother. I mean, he is not strong in the strength sense, but in the fight sense, in defending the people he cares about, and you know, knowing when a person is right or wrong. You know she trusts people too easily. "
Elijah says with a sad look on his face, his brow furrowing in frustration and sober
"No, I don't have kids, remember."
Darren says with an angry expression on his face, but in a matter of seconds, he breaks apart into a laugh as his glasses fall slightly, then he pushes them back up
"No, no, I am joking with you. I have little siblings, so I know that feeling. I'll give you some advice, just let things happen interfere when you have to, but just watch them grow and learn to be that person you and they want to be, okay."
Darren said, smiling as he punched Elijah's arm lightly, and Elijah nodded as the corner of his lips slowly started to curl up into a smile of understanding
As they continued walking, they felt a sudden shift in the air, which made Elijah and Darren stop. Up ahead, a commotion stirred-a crowd forming, hushed murmurs turning into panicked gasps.
Then he saw him.
A man stood in the center of the chaos, his face was that of an old retired construction Builder, and his dishevelled construction building clothes matched perfectly, a gun trembling in his grip, an arm locked around a little girl's neck. Her small frame shook with silent sobs. She held a pink backpack in her hand loosely as she was suspended in the air by the man holding onto her, her wide black eyes filled with terror as his black hair blew in the wind.
Something in Elias snapped as he saw the seen a fatherly instinct activated almost instantly
A instinct to protect his or anyone else's child.
There was no thought, no hesitation-only instinct. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he charged forward through the crowd, and Darren reached for him in horror. Elijah's fist connected with the gunman's face before the man could react. A shot rang out. Pain exploded in Elias's side, but he didn't stop. Another punch. Another shot. His body screamed in agony, but he pushed forward as his body started to go limp, his adrenaline running out, he thought to himself
"This won't do. I can't just punch this random guy's face, I don't know him or what his doing, but all I know is that, I have to stop him, but this won't do my adrenaline is running out, I need his face to be Someone I actually care about someone who I hate someone who i would really, really want to punch."
Elijah then slowly sees the mans face turn into his bosses face his slimy, slick, perverted, Look his over weight, obese, chubby, face all too familiar, like everything in his life, but this one was the bad kind, his adrenaline immediately spiked, as his eyes dilate, with rage as it fueling the force and speed of his punches as they flyed and pierced through the air, faster and faster. Everything is disappearing into a black void, leaving only him and the man with his boss's face, as with each
BANG
Of the gun, the BANG of Elijah's fist comes immediately after, faster, stronger. Elijah landed blow after blow until the gunman crumpled to the ground, unconscious, bleeding and probably with several concussions. Elijah breaks out of his focus of rage and adrenaline. The weapon skidded across the pavement, empty.
Elijah stands there with 13 bullet holes through his chest. Elijah smiles and does a pose with his fist up in the air, portraying a pose similar to a certain number 1 hero of his favorite manga as a child. Elijah laughs, coughing out blood as he thinks
"Dang it, I still am a kid, even after all this time, I am still as childish as I was before, maybe Darren is right, I should just let things happen, I just hope Emily will be okay,.... Anna, please, take care of her."
Elijah turned to the girl, his vision blurring. He reached out a trembling hand and whispered, "Stay safe, Emily."
But that wasn't her name. That was his daughter's name.
A cold numbness spread through him, and as he collapsed, his last thoughts were of his family-their laughter, their love, their warmth as he saw Darren crying and pulling him into a hug and he thought how Darren was family too well in his sense at the very least he then closed his eyes feeling Darren's tears go on his suit as Elijah smiled happily knowing that he did a good think but still worried about his family mostly.
Then, darkness.
Silence.
And then... crying, but these weren't the cries of a 20-year-old man. He was the cry of an infant.
His body felt impossibly small, wrapped in soft fabric. The air smelled unfamiliar, tinged with lavender and something old, something regal.
His vision adjusted. A woman's face hovered above him, but unfamiliar. She wore a maid's uniform, her expression one of reverence and awe.
He tried to speak, but only a weak, infantile cry escaped his lips.
Panic gripped him.
He wasn't dead.
He was reborn.