Adonai: 

"The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared." Said a famous author from our current era, so let me tell you a tale, my name is Adonai, and where I'll send you now is at the beginning, beginning of my story, a story where the gifts I had and the hard work I put in might as well be my greatest misfortune.

Boring, sheer absolute boredom was the general consensus of this room, a university class, where we study to try and have a normal job in a broken system, trying to strive for a good payment in today's day and age. Most people my age have an idea of a future career hence they are here to begin with, dreams about becoming a game designer, a programmer of any sort or maybe just leaving this country to go somewhere else on this planet. 

But on the other side of the spectrum are the people who have no hope, who think of dropping out every single day or doing worse and yet they don't, and I never could figure out why, and I don't care to figure out why. 

If I have to put myself somewhere I would say I'm in the middle, I don't have aspirations but I'm not in a doom spiral either, I'm content with how my life is going, as a more or less outcast with few friends spending most of my days reading the books my father left behind in his library and telling myself that when the time comes I'll figure it out.

"Hey, what's with that gloomy face, try to smile a bit more, it wouldn't hurt ya. Also fyi we're not in class anymore, you've been walking as if you're on autopilot all this time, tell me tell me what is in your mind at this very moment, I want to know!"

The voice that keeps pestering me is Kathlyn, a classmate and one of my few friends. She's a short girl with dark blonde hair, wearing the university uniform, a white shirt with a black skirt and a black jacket that has the stack of books, logo of the university on it. 

The sight of us together to other people is probably off putting to say the least, a beautiful young energetic girl with good grades, that's also coming from a wealthy family spending time with me, a not so tall black haired guy that doesn't stand out and might as well pass off as a stranger and on top of that an orphan.

"Just thinking about how meaningless everything we do is, most of the jobs nowadays are handed based on your connections yet we still try so hard, or well they do. I'm not saying it's wrong, just saying it's meaningless, just like how meaningless it is to think about it. I guess."

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"Pfu, hahahaha, here you go again, you might be right but it doesn't hurt trying, does it now? After all... we're young only once, so we might as well try and enjoy what little time we have before we get to deal with the adult world, unless some sort of apocalypse comes upon us that changes everything."

It's not hard to figure out this girl, most of the time she's talking like she's a carefree student who cares about having fun and living in the moment, but she fears what's coming after, she's not ready to face the real world, not yet, she's maybe hopeful that something will change, or scared that it will not, either way she has a good job at her father's company already secured so I think she should worry less, but I'll never say that out loud.

"Well if an apocalypse comes upon us, that at least will trigger an interesting domino of events, even if it might lead to our ultimate doom, at least we will get to see a change in this world that's been stagnant for years."

"You're right, but enough with the gloomy mood, we should talk about what we're gonna do later!"

"We?"

"We."

"What do you mean we?"

"It means you and me."

"Why?"

"If you're gonna spend one more day in that dusty library I'll burn it to the ground, you need to spend more time in the sunlight."

"But we are already outside, we're walking in the same direction, this is enough sunlight for me."

*Sigh* "You really need more hobbies other than reading."

"No, no I don't think so."

The library is the only thing my father left me before he disappeared, a lifelong work of his, books written by himself, some by other people, friends or just strangers. He used to travel a lot, and document places and study legends, that's what he told me, and one day he was gone. He has been taking care of me alone for 13 years, my mother passed away when I was 4, and it's been 3 years since he's gone. Now at 20 years old most of my days are spent there reading through his lifework.

"The library, Kath, is the only tangible memory I have left from my parents, I just want to spend as much time there as possible, before I have to move on."

"..."

Our homes are close, but the rest of that trip was silent, silent as if the rest of the world could hear the feelings of sorrowness deep inside my heart, and her feelings of pity towards me.