Finally, after repetitively thrusting himself against the door frame in rhythmic motions for God himself knows how long, Chinko felt all strength suddenly leave his body.

His torso shriveled, and he vomited the contents of his stomach over and over again, convulsing violently. He sincerely thought that it was the end, and he was about to die.

Would an angel appear and take him to Heaven? Or would the Devil himself drag him to Hell?For what is a man, but a roach in the face of the divine?

Yet Chinko knew he was no roach. At this point, he had already realized that he became something far more sinister, far more vicious. As he lied on the floor, crying, in the pool of sticky fluids he himself exerted, he contemplated the course of his life, from the day he was born, and all the way until now.

He was always a good kid, so thus it made sense he eventually grew up to be a fine, young man. Never did he gossip about anyone, never did he argue with someone. He always obeyed the rules and looked after his peers.

For example, in the bus, on the lecture hall, or doing social meetings, he would always take the farthest sit, in consideration for people who’d arrive later. By leaving several seats unobstructed, he allowed them to sit wherever they wanted, without inconveniencing them or forcing them to ask him to let them pass.

For example, he never listened to overly loud music, neither at home nor in public. If he had to listen to something, he’d always utilize headphones, and he’d always make sure they were soundproof enough not to be heard by other people, who might not approve of his choice of songs.

For example, he never littered on the street. Even if he had to walk with an empty can or plastic bag for God knew how long, he’d always diligently endure the hardships of such pilgrimage, until a trash container presented him an opportunity to dispose of unwanted burden.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

In other words, as far as Chinko was concerned, he was a model citizen and a nice guy. He could not phantom, what could he have done to warrant such a terrible divine punishment. Nor did he know what should be done to undo this transformation.

Just as he was about to give up all hope, the door to his room opened wide. This process would usually be accompanied by a loud, creaking sound, produced by its old and rusty iron hinges. He always hated that noise and found it mostly disagreeable.

Thus, not being able to hear it now, he—for the first time since his grotesque transformation—felt a sort of gratitude for his new form.

“Ah, mine Sister! How rejoice I myself yourself to see!”

But she only took a step back and opened her mouth wide, all the while pressing her palms against her cheeks.

She was screaming.

“Ah, frighten yourself not, mine Sister! It is I, your Brother!”

Suddenly, a bolt of pain ran through his forehead. His dearest sister, whom he loved so much, kicked him right in what should have been his head. With a sharp and pointy surface of a high-heeled shoe, nonetheless.

This betrayal from the one he trusted the most made him retch again, and soon enough he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach all over the place one more time.

By the time he was finished, and clarity came upon him, the young woman was gone. Did she run away in terror? Or did something else happen to her?

With his limited sense of ‘sight’, Chinko couldn’t tell. All he knew was that the door was now open, and beyond it lied his freedom.

Gazing one last time at his old room, he was overtaken by a powerful, yet short-lived bout of nostalgia.

“Will I one day ever to this place come?”

His question was silent, and only silence answered him.

Composing himself, he crawled out, venturing into the dark corridor beyond.