…

Tristan woke up seeing the world had come to an end.

His parents were gone.

All his life, he got used to his parents’ help. He couldn’t eat on his own nor get to the bathroom on his own.

He needed help because his hands and feet couldn’t move.

That day, he cried knowing that he would die. He was scared of death! From the moment he was born, he cursed his life and wanted to die!

But when he was finally near his wish, he learned he was scared of dying.

That day, he also laughed at himself. He felt that his resolution before was a demon’s joke.

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Thud. He threw himself but because he didn’t have a sense of balance, his landing was awkward. He groaned painfully and felt a few ribs aching.

Still, he persisted. Wriggling his body, he arrived at the fridge and angled his body to try opening it. It was in vain. He only felt his mouth numbing.

But he quickly changed his mind. He turned towards a flower vase and bumped into it. The latter only quivered. The vase was big and sturdy, he thought and gnashed his teeth.

Tristan kept on and on until his face was half bloodied before the vase was brought down. Then, he bit on the leaves without hesitation. It was bitter and tears came out of the corner of his eyes.

He held on though. Munch. Munch. Not minding the itchy bitter taste. His tears dried up and only a firm resolve painted his look.

“I will live.”

…

“I am living.” Tristan thought of standing up, seeing a scurrying figure in the distance. He touched his heavy helmet and armor and felt its magma-like temperature. He hadn’t taken it off since he could remember.

Maybe his skin underneath had already become charcoal, he chuckled while waiting for the incomer.

…