"Ghhk—!"
The sound escaped his throat as he jerked up, gasping for the sweet air. No scream. No loud sounds. Just the resonating cyclical vibration of breath. Thrusting his head up involuntarily, pupils strained, clutching onto his own shirt with his hand as if he'd just woken from a nightmare. He felt only one emotion — fear. Hyperventilation. The act of unintentional increase in the rapidity of breathing, due to either anxiety or fear. In this case, he couldn't control it due to both. Sweat. A fluid released from the skin to cool the body. It can also be released as a symptom of fear. Drops of sweat were trickling down the Fool's face. The mere thought of recalling what he just had seen was terrifying. Paradoxical even. It was a trance of sorts. Then, it ended abruptly. Just like that. No memories of either trance or dream stayed. He shut his eyes and turned to sleep again. The Fool's head collapsed back onto the notebook lying on his desk.
A loud thud echoed forth. Eyes opening, pupils dilating, he woke. Groaning, obviously wanting to get more sleep, he turned his head right, not separating it from the comfortable notepad full of soft paper on his work surface and saw that the digital clock on his side read four thirty ante meridiem. The crumpling papers twisting under his head sounded loud and clear. The boy picked his heavy enough head up, rubbing his dilated eyes and realised the minor crisis he just landed himself in — the English homework that he had to have done for today. Glancing at his digital clock, registering the early hour it was, he turned on the lamp and got to work. He had resumed writing his essay.
He yawned. Then again. And again. Any person who saw him could easily conclude that he was drowsy. Practically no focus was being used. It didn't matter if he wanted to though, either way it would be a snowball's chance in hell to keep focus on the boring task at hand.
The work was finally done, five thirty four ante meridiem. To wake up, he pushed his chest forward, propelled his head back, opened his arms far back, and yawned again. "Mmmmmmm…" he groaned. "Finally… I better get a good grade…" After a satisfying short ten second stretch, the boy turned off the lamp and stood. Looking around, he flipped the light switch on, and quietly verbalised, "What to do now… I still have about an hour and a half." Then it clicked. Since he had so much time, a bath would be great. The boy took clothes out of his drawer, took a towel from the next drawer and entered the bathroom.
Entering the now filled with warm water bath, he sighed. The boy rested his head on the edge of the bathtub, a bit of water spilling out due to the sudden movement. He started to meaninglessly stare at the ceiling. There was no point to stare. It was unintelligible. Incomprehensible. Incoherent. Senseless. Foolish. A waste of dear time. Time doesn't exist as an illusionary component of the world to be wasted — not in the Fool's ideology. But he couldn't control it. The boy was ultimately bored. A consuming, apathetic boredom. He counted the cracks in the ceiling, then lost track. What was the point? Nothing changed. Even his own thoughts felt dull, constantly repeating the same questions over and over again. He tried to count the tiles on the ceiling, an easier task.
One. Two. Three. Four…
And he stopped. It was a meaningless, dry task. Why bother?
Over an hour passed by in the blink of an eye. Bird chirping about dawn. Fresh sunlight hitting the pale and sensitive face through the window in his room, escaping to the open door of the bathroom. The yet again dilated pupils tensed back, he climbed out the bathtub, slumped towards the doorframe to grab hold of it as support. The boy turned his gaze towards the clock, reading seven twenty six ante meridiem. Normally he gets up earlier, to have time to make breakfast and pack his bag to leave for school. This time, he didn't. After drying himself, he packed his bag, making sure to remember the essay and left his room to journey to the exit door of his house. His acquired-savant twin sister — Aria — always woke early and sat on the sofa reading in the living room next to the exit door. She didn't go to school, since she's homeschooled. This time he'll make sure to avoid her, he thought.
Tip-toeing as quietly as possible down the stairs, continuing the tip-toe into the corridor he heard nothing. Utter silence. He was glad that he managed to avoid his sister today. He relaxed, stopped the tip-toe act, but still moved with caution. Five meters in front of him was the exit door. Three meters front then right was the living room door, opened. He built up the courage and marched forward. He could only hope she wasn't there.
First step. A second step. A third step. A fourth step. A fifth step. A sixth—
"This is quite a late time to leave for school, Jack, even for you," said a soft, caring, and yet obnoxious voice.
"Damn it," muttered Jack, turning his head right to look at the speaker, his hand twitching.
Not looking up from the book she was reading, Aria, sounding like an actual caring person, asked, "No breakfast? Won't you be hungry? Don't you have a long day today? You forgot to pack your food again…"
"I gotta go. I don't wanna be late again," Jack turned back and started walking. His hand was twitching harder, though the reason was unknown, even to Jack.
"You can't keep ignoring your dear, caring sister," she exclaimed, expecting a compliment for her remark. When she snapped her head up to look at Jack, her face lit up like a bundle of flashlights. Unnatural lights, yet they shine bright.
Jack continued walking. He kept his mouth shut. Even if he were to start talking, what good would have come out of it. That was his rationalisation of the given event.
"Come on… Don't leave me hangi—"
The door slammed shut behind him, rendering her protest meaningless. Jack ignored her as usual. It's the usual routine. Ignore her in the morning, then when Jack gets home, avoid Aria as much as possible.
Holding his backpack with the right hand, he equipped it onto his back. Jack was walking forward. He always does. Crossing a street he remembers well, he looks left and right. Jack, not concentrating on the mindless robotic routine of going to school, all of a sudden arrived at his destination — Northvale high school. Looking at the big sign ahead showing the name of the high school, Jack couldn't even see the name of it, as to him, it was covered by crayon-like scribbles. He doesn't remember the name, doesn't want to remember and has no reason to remember.
Jack walked towards a gate, what a passerby would presume to be a school gate, due to the sheer numbers of students walking through it. Jack enters the school building, opens his miniscule locker, switches his shoes to ones that he was forced to prepare by the school administration.
He entered his classroom and sat in the chair assigned to him at the start of the year. As if lacking sleep, Jack laid his head on his arms, which were resting on the desk. A bell rang. A bell at this time would mean that in ten minutes lessons will start. Jack deduced that it's seven fifty ante meridiem. Slowly drifting away into the much needed sleep, he felt a chilling mass on his nape. Jack made it out to be freezing cold water. All that in a fraction of a second. After the fraction ended and became whole, Jack flinched from surprise.
"Hhk—" Jack shallowly inhaled before shooting his head up.
"C'mon Jack! Get up. We gotta discuss our plans for tomorrow!" announced a distinctively different voice, sounding much deeper.
Jack's eyes lit up, as if given meaning. His face playfully showed an emotion equivalent to that of irritation.
"Did you have to wake me like that?" asked Jack, snatching the ice-cold water from his friend's hand and gulping down the majority of it like a maniac.
"Sure I did, J'... By the way, are you really that thirsty that you gotta drink most of my sugar water?" asked the friend, raising one of his eyebrows.
"Of course I have to, I kinda forgot to drink this morning… You added sugar? Yea right…"
Looking back, Jack had many chances to drink some water. Though wasting time was mostly all he did this morning.
Not my fault — He forced himself to believe.
"Why'd you add sugar? If you want something sweet, just get candy or whatever," says Jack, laughing slightly. They always talk in a playful kind of way.
"You have gotta stop asking that. We both know well that plain old water is quite boring."
"Buuuuut I don't drink sugar water. What you call 'plain old water' is quite tasteful," remarked Jack.
"Ahh yes, the tasteless is quite tasty, I must say," He paused for a minute to gather his thoughts.
"Hey, so 'bout tomorrow's plans…" Was what the friend wanted to say, but what came out sounded quite different:
"Hey, so 'bout to—" the boy was cut off by a girl's call through the class's open door.
"Dion! Emily needs the vice prez to sign the document for the trip tomorrow!"
"Whaaaaaat?"
Defeated. He was utterly defeated. Dion sighed. All that amazing energy he had just disappeared.
Dion turned to Jack's direction and looked like he was admitting defeat.
"Sorry… I gotta skip class for obvious reasons… Let's talk later…" muttered Dion. He turned to the direction of the door and slumped in that direction. Jack, looking at him, tilted his head in a comical manner. He chuckled at the given situation and teasingly announced "Have fun Dion!"
The bell rang right after Dion left. These ten minutes flew by much faster than Jack expected. A teacher entered the room with an amusing hairstyle.
Haven't I seen that hairstyle before? — Though Jack discards this as some weird déjà vu while trying to hold in his laughter.
The lesson was Maths. While most students don't really like Maths, since they believe it won't be useful later in life and other reasons, Jack adores Maths. He likes STEM subjects in general. If someone were to ask somebody else if they're in love, most people would answer either no or yes, but about a specific person. Jack on the other hand would nod his head and say that he's giving all his love to science. He wants to be a theoretical physicist. Jack, being the fan of STEM he was, was way ahead from everyone else in Maths and Physics. He also had extensive knowledge of biology and chemistry, at least more than his peers.
Sitting in his seat, already knowing the subject at hand, doesn't really do any of the tasks given. Jack was a lucky man. He had a seat next to a window, which let him have access to a great view. Resting his head on his hand, he looks out the window, pondering about anything that came to mind.
So there are the guys playing football. How many points does each team have? Wait… Why'd I think 'football?' I should call it soccer to not confuse it with football. On the topic of confusing subjects, why do a lot of people find math confusing? It's pure logic, I mean—
Jack was cut off by the teacher's voice.
"Jack… Stop looking out that window! I swear that I'll move you to a different seat if you don't get in order. Concentrate." Commanded the teacher.
"But I am concentrating?" That was a straight up lie.
"Then answer the question on the board."
Jack looks at the board and starts to analyse the question. In a few seconds he says, "The gradient of the tangent line of the given quartic equation is 3? No wait — I think 5? Yea yea, it should be 3."
The teacher approached Jack.
"Show me your notes."
He saw an empty desk, the teacher was obviously flabbergasted.
Ah crap. — thought Jack
The teacher looked at Jack and inquired, "You did that… All in your head?"
Jack being nervous, confirmed. He had no other choice.
The teacher sighed and mumbled, "Do whatever you want… As long as you know the subject."
"Uhm… Thanks…"
The teacher walked back to the front of the classroom and resumed his lecture.
"So, as Jack here said, the gradient here is 3, can anyone…"
When classes finished, Jack didn't know why Dion didn't return to class.
He should still be in the student council room. Where's that?
By the time he took his phone out to check the school website for the classroom number, most of his peers had left the school already. It was a long day, so of course people wanted to go home. It was dark out anyways.
Jack left the classroom, last, and entered the dark hall, which's lights have already been turned off. Nostalgia. It arises from nostalgic and seemingly non-nostalgic events. One of the seemingly non-nostalgic events could be seeing a photo of a Liminal space. Liminal spaces present a normal everyday space, but no life can be seen anywhere in the photo. Everything there seems normal, but at the same time feels as though not normal. Jack feels as if he is in a corridor-like liminal space.
Jack looked out the window at another corridor in the school. The lights there flicker. This liminal space of his gives him this eerie, unsettling feeling, also full of nostalgia. The echo of footsteps seemed too loud. The emergency exit lights hummed, as no other sound other than the echoing footsteps were being created.
He swallowed hard. Everything around him seemed to take more than just light — but sound and time. As the step continued giving off a slight, yet too loud echo, he got closer, and closer, and closer, and closer, and closer to his destination. Before he knew it, he had arrived. Everything seems to happen in an instant. Typical of a bored person.
Wanting to get out of this dark place, he puts his hand on the door handle, and pulls down. Light escapes the room, filling up the hallway as the door reaches halfway opened and halfway closed. As the door opens more, Jack is blinded by the lights. He looks into the glowing room and sees a bright figure in front.
Dion, turning his head to see who opened the door, asked, "What are you doing here so late? Shouldn't you have gone home by now? Aria will definitely be mad if you stay out late…"
Another voice, more soft, queried, "Aria? Is that his sister? I do remember Jack having a sister! I've gotta meet her someday!"
Jack, looking in the room, crunching his face into a disgusted one, observed two familiar figures and said, "Quite the sight… Seeing the both of you this late at school, all aloooooone〜"
"The hell do you mean 'all alone', 'J?" Dion's face started to turn light red.
"Look… What do you need from me?" he asked, as his voice faded away in defeat yet again.
"Aww… I ruined such a beautiful moment…" Jack wipes his eyes mockingly, " My my〜 I'm sorry…"
He stopped his pseudo-cry.
"To answer your question, not to you specifically, I just wanted to ask you guys if you wanna go home together, like the old times?"
Emily, resting her back on the cupboard in a standing position, answered, "Well we've been done with our stuff for a while now, so why not?" She turns her head to Dion's direction and gives out a "K?"
Dion, in utter shock at what Jack just did, admits defeat with a simple "K…"
***
"See you guys!" Shouted Emily right before she entered her home. The door was slammed shut.
As Jack and Dion continued walking, a mischievous smirk appeared on Jack's face.
"Ok, Dion. You have got to tell me everything. Spill the beans."
"No."
"Come on brooooo〜"
"No," replied Dion in a swift style, as he crossed his arms.
"You offended?"
"I believe so," sighed Dion.
With the smirk on Jack's face becoming larger by the second, he defends, "How was I supposed to know you were getting all romantic〜? I just wanted to go hooooome with you guuuuuuuuysssss…"
"Oh look, it's your home. Have fun with your sister, J'!" announces Dion, louder than usual, satisfied with his actions.
"Dammit," curses Jack.
"See you tomorrow," chuckles Dion, walking away. He does a friendly hand salute as he walks away.
Jack waves the back of his hand, as now he is facing his back to Dion and his front to his door. It was dark out. Why would it be light? The air was still, not the faintest movement. Shouldn't there be wind? Even the tiniest amount would satisfy the world, and yet she resisted. It started to smell. Not a bad smell per se, and definitely not an inviting smell. Just — unique, different. He took the key out of his pocket and looked at his hands to see which key he had to use to unlock the front door.
Garage key, the backdoor key, gate key… Ah, here.
Then his hand suddenly stopped moving. He couldn't move. Proprioception. The human being's sixth sense. Most people believe that a sixth sense doesn't exist — only something that can exist in fiction. Maybe other people believe in an occult type sixth sense. On the other hand, in biology, proprioception has the responsibility of telling the mind where your body parts, take a hand for example, is in space relative to you. Jack's sixth sense disappeared. Nothing.
Next, sight. That was lost too. Then the ability to hear left him. Touch came after. The unique smell disappeared next. Fear. That was all Jack felt. He was hyperventilating, though how would he know? He just lost all of his senses. He was in a colourless, empty garden.
***
"... Have fun with you sister, J'!" announced a recognisable voice.
A soft voice whispers with excitement, "Dion's voice? That means Jack's home!"
Aria rushes to the front door, though no sign of it being opened in the past few hours. She waits about a minute, starting to get impatient.
The soft, but now irritated voice mumbles, "Isn't it too long for him to be playing these games with me? Though he's not me, he doesn't do these types of games."
Without looking through the peep-hole that most doors have, she hurriedly opened the door. In front of her was Jack. His head looked down at his palms, holding keys. He stood there, frozen.
"Uhm… Jack? Welcome… home?" said Aria, slightly confused. She looked at him — soon noticing the rapidity of his breath.
Hyperventilation?
Since she's shown herself, Jack didn't make a single move.
"Gllk—"
Aria gulped. She was feeling unsettled. Very unsettled. Worry for her brother came along with that. She put her hand on his cheek slowly and steadily.
"Hhk—"
It was a sudden inhale that came as Jack's body suddenly jumped, surprising Aria, with her reacting with a jerk in return. He slowly pulled his head up and said no word. Aria, obviously with worry in her face, showed her concern, "Are you… Alright?"
Jack's head slowly drooped back down with his sight going back onto his hands, then slowly pulled it back up.
With a shaky voice, he replied "Uhh, yea…"
Jack limped through the door, past the seemingly frightened twin, then started to walk upstairs. He tripped. It was like he had forgotten how to walk after many years of not walking. Aria ran towards him and offered quickly, though nervously "You need help? Here, let me take this backpack from you."
Jack turned his head to her direction, eyes widened, though not to her act of helping him.
Aria noticed, "You feeling sick? I'll help you to bed, get some sleep."
Jack's eyes relaxed a bit, and answered hesitantly, "I'm… Fine… Thanks though." Aria helped Jack up the stairs, through the upstairs corridor and into his room, then she laid him to bed.
"Do you need anything?" Asked a concerned Aria.
"Uhm, no… Thanks for the offer though…"
"Okay then… Just make sure to get some sleep," recommended Aria, with a rare, serious tone.
"Good night," were her last words as she closed the door to his dark room. Aria's footsteps could be heard fading into the distance.
Jack stared into the ceiling, eyes droopy, struggling to be open. He succumbed to the drowsiness and closed his eyes. One last thought took shape before falling to sleep: What… Just happened… I don't remember…
***
There was a garden. Full of lush green plants, thought short, flowers that resemble each and every colour of the rainbow and more. To look into the distance is to see more and more of the never-ending garden. Above was a bright blue sky. It seemed like one of those perfect days that appears only in spring. It was too real. A garden like this would be a gardener's dream. A farmer's dream. An office worker's dream. A good person's dream. A bad person's dream. An angel's dream. A devil's dream. This garden, the embodiment of beauty is something that anybody, anyone and anything would dream for if they knew something like this existed.
"It's perfect," whispered a soft, quiet, hushed voice into the boy's ear.
Almost too perfect.
"Anything you may desire, you may achieve it through here, Jack… You've… Finally arrived."
As if by instinct, he felt soothed by the both calming voice and tranquil scenery. Arms started to embrace Jack by them just inching further and further onto him. They were around him, somewhat comforting him. He didn't dare to move. Why would he? The beautiful arms of the woman were around him, there was a beautiful view in front of them. Jack wouldn't want her to remove her hands. He loved her and enjoyed every second they were together.
"No matter what may come to be, you may always come to me, Jack," she whispered happily, humming a gentle lullaby. Soothing. That's what it was. A beautiful lullaby sung by a beautiful woman. Who wouldn't be soothed. He recognises the lullaby. Though the situation calmed his every emotion, he kept his seemingly logical thought pattern.
"Who… Are you?" Jack pondered out loud.
"Ah…" She sighed, crestfallen.
"So you don't remember me… It must've been ineffective… Yet again…" She whispered something that seemed true by instinct, but by logic and rational reasoning, makes no sense.
"Hmm?" Wondered Jack. He believed her. Had no reason to. He just did.
The woman's arms still around him, she brings her mouth closer to his ear, and whispers very quietly in a tone full of guilt, "I'm sorry… I'll do… What I can…"
Everything around them started to crack like glass would, then shattered into what seemingly is infinite pieces. Up, down, left, right, front, back. In those directions were stars. Gas clouds of many different colors surrounded them. They were in space. A highly unrealistic sight to see in space, though. Even more proof that this was a dreamscape. Contrasting the evidence though, was the fact that the perfect garden isn't something that could be dreamt by any mere human.
"Forgive me…"