I sat on the couch in the living room, my eyes fixed on the screen before me. A debate about the existence of God played out, though I had little interest in such topics and certainly no desire to support blasphemy. The only reason I watched was because it was on the TV when I came downstairs.
It was early morning 9 a.m. to me, though a morning person might call it late. It didn't bother me; I had no authority over the hour. Sunlight streamed through the glass walls, piercing my face. I closed the curtains, dimming the room to a softer light.
The man on the screen seemed to be laughing at my very existence. Of course, he wasn't. He was laughing at the idea of God's existence. Boring. That is, until someone from the audience stood up to challenge him. Still boring. Perhaps interesting only to those already fascinated.
I was so bored that the words whispered by the TV barely reached the depths of my mind. I changed the channel. Pash, pash, pash the sound was incomprehensible.
"Alright, what's on the next channel? Music," I muttered. I wasn't fond of music, but even that was better than the nonsense before. I couldn't understand what drew people to politics money, greed, nepotism? I wasn't sure, but I was certain they were doomed in the end.
Frustrated, I turned off the TV. Oddly, I didn't feel well not angry, not melancholic. I wasn't on my period, so what was this strange unease? I couldn't pinpoint the source, but it didn't matter. I was leaving the house, stepping out without the presence of its owners.
The remote slipped from my fingers as I tried to set it down on the couch. It landed softly, nothing broken. To be honest, my loose grip was the reason it fell.
I headed upstairs to my bedroom. It was on the floor above the living room however people measured buildings. My footsteps echoed softly as I climbed. Pata pata pata.
The sound of the lock clicking open reached my ears. The door was unlocked. My eyes searched for the jacket I'd left on the bed. I hadn't really registered leaving the jacket, soaked in bodily fluids, there. But being myself, leaving things scattered was nothing new.
Jacket on, I felt protected from delinquents, from prying eyes. My limbs were covered; no issues there.
I grabbed the keys from my desk. The same desk I used for studying, though I had little interest in it. I studied anyway, just to earn good marks and satisfy my family. How foolish.
Wait... now that I think about it, I had a phone with me, but it is gone. I must have left it on the couch. I'll get it when i go downstairs.
My mood had improved. The boredom was gone. The idea of going out sparked something in my brain's reward system. It wasn't the act of leaving that excited me, but the hope of finding something new, something fun, or even terrifying.
Now outside, in the park, I saw two children playing alone. No parents in sight. What were they doing? I wondered as I rose from the bench and approached them.
On the ground lay some lifeless creatures—an earthworm, a mosquito, and other small things. The two boys, oblivious, touched the dead creatures with their bare hands. I wanted to look away, even to vomit, but curiosity held me.
One boy, blond-haired, noticed my uncomfortable gaze and nervously asked, "Miss, do you need something?"
What did I need? I wasn't sure. Without thinking, I replied hurriedly, "No, I was just watching what you two are doing with that earthworm and the other things." I cursed myself for the awkwardness.
"Aww, okay," said the blond boy. From the right, the black-haired boy asked, "Why don't you torture these dead insects with us, miss? I promise it's fun."
I stood behind them, their eyes shining with anticipation. The temptation to join wasn't far from my mind. I smiled and said, "Okay."
Their faces lit up and mine too. What a way to start the morning, I thought. Honestly, they looked adorable now no legs and eight legs alike. What a strange kind of discrimination.
I knelt down to touch the little creatures. A disgustingly unique sensation tingled my fingers. I didn't know why it felt new. It wasn't the first time I'd touched an eight-legged creature, but before it had been spontaneous. Now, I was doing it consciously, though not thoughtfully.
Suddenly, I felt six eyes on me. Four belonged to the boys, but another pair was older. Watching me with a look of disdain.
As I processed this, the children asked in unison, "What do you think?"
I smiled brightly, grateful for the chance to touch such lowly creatures.
"Solid," I said.
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Hello there,
You might be wondering what this series is about. I understand, but please continue reading the next installment to grasp the essence of the story.
Disclaimer: This novel contains graphic violence, profanity, homosexual intercourse, Strong Language and blasphemy. It is intended for readers 18 and older with a strong constitution.
Wishing you a happy day,
Lost Spirit