I am playing catch with my friends in the yard when I accidentally threw the ball too hard and broke the window of our house. We were all dumbfounded at the situation and my friends all ran away when they saw my mother come out of our front door. She scolded me for almost half an hour about how careless I am and told me to clean up my mess.
As I was sweeping the shards of our broken window, my father came home after a long day of work. He saw the mess I have made but just keep walking and sat on his chair in the living room. After I finished cleaning up he called me over. I knew he was going to scold me so I just stood there quietly. He turned off the TV and turned around to face me.
"Son, I saw the mess in the kitchen," He said. His face is unreadable.
"I am sorry father. It was an accident; I didn't mean to break a window." I said looking truly remorseful.
"Are you truly sorry?" He asked. His eyes still locked to mine.
"Yes, father. I won't do it again. I promise." I said while my eyes are glued to the floor. Unable to look my father in the eyes, for I am afraid of another scolding.
"Then you are forgiven." He turned around and turned on the TV once again. "To punish a truly repentant person is counterproductive for it is only human to err my son. Instead, learn from it so you will not make the same mistake. You must not wallow in what you have done wrong. Take responsibility for what you did and do something to make it right. Because that is how you grow." He continued as he changes the channel to sports. "Now go help your mother in preparing the table. Let's eat, for I am hungry."
His words are full of stern love of a father. Not condemning me for my mistake, instead of teaching me a valuable life lesson. I ran to my father gave him a tight hug the I ran to the kitchen and hugged my mother and promised I won't repeat the same mistake. She smiled and pinched my cheeks. We prepared the table, called my father from the living room, and ate dinner together.
The dream of the past ended when I felt a hard object press against my back and I woke up. I opened my eyes and what greeted me was an ocean of stars fill the vast sky. I sat up and my eyes wandered around. It seems I am sitting in rocky ground, nothing in sight but endless rocky plains as far as the eyes can see.
"Did I die? Is this heaven? If so where are the pearly gates?" I wondered as I stood up and checked myself. I still have my bloody clothes but when I examined myself my gun wound is closed shut and doesn't even hurt. "I don't know what is happening. If this is indeed the afterlife, it is quite empty than I imagine." I said to myself as I try to find people or some kind of landmark. Alas, nothing but empty plains as far as the eye can see with no soul and discernable landmark to be found. "I guess I will wander around and see if I find someone who can answer what the hell is this place and how I got here."
I picked a random direction and started walking. As I continue to walk in the vast empty plains, I can't help but think about how I got here. What I did in my life prompted the various events that resulted in my death.
As a child, I was raised by my two loving parents. My father Anthony Alistair was a mechanic and my mother Lucy Alistair was a baker. Both of them came from a poor family and was unable to finish even high school. Even with the odds stacked against them, they find a way to learn their trade by becoming apprentices of their trade until they were able to open their own business.
Although we were living a comfortable life as a middle-class family, I sometimes hear my father drunk talk especially when business is slow about his regret for not finishing his studies. He believes that if he only had a college degree, he can provide for our family better with a higher paying and more stable job. Thus they both strive to provide me with an education that they were unable to acquire in their childhood.
Pre-school and elementary life passed by in a flash. My parents help me with my schoolwork but they never answer the question themselves. Instead, they guide me to discover the answer myself and I thank them for it gave me the confidence to stand on my own feet and find answers for myself. But even with all my effort, I was unable to excel in any subject except Physical Education and graduated as an average student.
I was sad that I was unable to repay all of the things that they did for me, but when I was about to walk up the stage to receive my diploma, my father walks beside me and with a bright smile in his face he said, "Congratulations son. It is not important if you receive any awards. What is important is that you did your best and that is enough for us. We love you." He then hugged me and put me in his shoulders, beaming with pride as his firstborn was able to finish elementary. My mother then followed behind while carrying Anise, my little sister who just turned 2 years old. After that, we took a family picture.
I always cherished those memories. The love of my family was overflowing and I will never trade it for anything in the world. But all good things come to an end, for my life changed when I entered high school.
My thoughts were interrupted when I tripped on a stone. I don't how long have I been working but as far as I can see there is no end to this desolate plain. It doesn't help that I can't tell the time also for there is no sun, even my wristwatch is stuck at 12:15 and didn't change ever since I came to this godforsaken place. I was also curious that even after walking for hours or days even, I don't even feel tired.
As a former delinquent in high school, my life was littered with street brawls day in and day out. I was boarding in another town far away from my parents since there was no high school in our little town. Almost none of my troublemaking was unnoticed by my parents for I still study hard to seem like a model student while I invested myself in a street fight at night.
It was almost laughable to remember why I became a delinquent back then. It all started when I first came to high school. Most of the time I was the target of bullies for I am meek at that time. Being the tallest in class with a good build due to being a farmhand, I was always targeted by people who wanted to prove that they are tough enough to join groups of trouble makers. Most of the time I get black eyes or bloody nose or cut in the lip but I never try to report it to the teachers for I don't want to worry my parents. After all, most of the bullies are from well off families so even if I protest my complaints will just fall in deaf ears or worse, I will get blamed instead for starting fights.
After being bullied for almost a year, I finally snapped. Near the end of the class, one of my bullies, Clyde, who was standing in front of the lockers wanted to impress a girl by punching me in the face to make him look tough.
After getting hit, something in me broke, face redden, felt my hands are about to bleed as I clench my fist so tight it turns white. I felt like I am about to burst. I tried to reign in the anger that boils inside me, and when I thought I was able to remain calm, I remember Clyde throwing an insult at me "What are you looking at, you pussy ass poor excuse for a human being? Your broke ass son of a bitch doesn't belong here." He said as he walks toward me, face full of ridicule and spite. "oh I know, the only way you were able to afford to attend here was because your whore of a mother probably opened her legs for the principal and other staffers here as your dead beat of the father pleads them to accept you as he watches in the—" his words were cut short for at that moment I snapped and lunged towards him and tackled him to the ground.
I remember vividly how I pummeled his face as his friends tried to pull me from the spoiled brat resulting in a broken nose. At that moment, I felt alive, as adrenaline courses through my vein as righteous fury was translated into pure violence towards my main tormentor. Clyde was quickly rushed to the hospital and as was expected, after the fight I was sent to the principal's office and the situation was turned upside down making me the instigator of the fight, the one who attacked the poor spoiled shit head unprovoked. The principal threatened to expel me for excessive violence if not for our parents arriving.
After hearing the story, my father swallowed his pride and asked for my forgiveness. He was about to kneel in front of Mr. and Mrs. Whittaker, but they stopped him. Mr. and Mrs. Whittaker are known in the town not only because they are the richest, but also for their charity. They knew that their son is partly to blame for the situation and asked for the principal to not expel me but instead suspend both me and their son for the incident.
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I was shocked after hearing their words, but they just look me in the eye and Mr. Whittaker said, "Son if there is an action, there will always be a reaction. Our son wronged you for saying those foul words. Seriously, I don't know where he learned to behave like that." He looked at his wife, his face full of disappointment. And then he looked back at me "I do apologize for my son's behavior towards you, but it didn't mean that you could just hurt him also. Violence is not the answer. So there must be consequences."
After that, the principal finalized that we are being suspended for a month. My father thanked Mr. and Mrs. Whittaker for their leniency and promised he will see to it that I won't something like that again. My father was silent the whole time as we drive home. When we got back from school he told me that even though he understands my need to defend the honor of our family, it does not mean that I take the violent route. Problems are not always nails that need to be hammered, we must always find another way that doesn't include violence.
I have always believed my fathers' words, but this time I don't agree that just keeping quiet is the correct way but I just keep those thoughts to myself, not wanting to cause my family more distress.
Days pass as I busy myself in earning a bit by helping old Jenkins on his farm and in my free time I learn how to fight in secret by reading manuals and watching tutorials on Youtube. I know Clyde will try to get his revenge so I better ready myself to weather the incoming storm. Thus a month ends without a single incident.
Soon I went back to school after a months' suspension. I quickly buried myself to study since I am a month behind in school work. It is on the third day when I notice changes in the school with most of the bullies avoiding me. Sometimes I even bump into Clyde in the hallway but he just gives me a death stare and walks away. My gut tells me that something is going to happen soon so I keep myself alert in case shit goes down.
And shit did go down.
One afternoon I was going back to the boarding house I stay in. I was jumped by unknown assailants. They put a sack on my head, tied me up, and threw me into the van. Inside the van, they started beating me up. As they were punching and kicking me senseless, they shout insults not only to me but also to my family. I recognize the voices of my assailants. Lo and behold, it was Clyde and co. I tried to fight back but there were three of them and I helplessly try to cover my vitals as I got beaten to an inch of my life. The only reason I was still alive is that Clifford stopped the two, not wanting to be a murderer by killing me.
Beneath all that bravado Clyde was also a coward, not having the courage to do the dirty work with his own hands. Sensing hope in surviving this dangerous encounter, I pretended to be unconscious while readying myself to escape should the chance arrive. Thankfully they dropped me near a hospital when they thought I lost consciousness and then quickly escaped. Not wanting to get admitted to a hospital since it was a surefire way to alert my parents and further give them distress, I picked myself up and hobbled my way back to the dorm to recover from this harrowing experience. I was unable to go to school for a week because of my various injuries. Thankfully none were life-threatening. Just bruises all over my body, no bone injuries that may hinder my everyday life.
They did it now. Do they think I would let them beat me up this way and left me for dead, that I would not seek to balance the scale?
Once I started attending school again, Clyde and co. started to harass me again. While inside the school I try to ignore them and focus on my study and since I was not yet ready to enact my plan, and I don't want to ruin it by losing my temper and beat them up on school grounds again. Thus after the class ended, I rushed to exit the school to avoid Clyde and his goons. This continued for a couple of weeks. Them beating me up gave them enough confidence to intensify their bully tactics, seeing me an easy mark so I did my best to avoid bumping into them during and after class.
For the time I returned to school I stalk their Clyde's group. Writing down their route to and from school. When and where they hang after class. All of that stalker shit.
A couple of months passed, I feel I am ready. Then enacted my plan.
Jeffrey usually goes through an alley en route to his house after hanging out with Clyde and Clifford until dusk. Waiting behind a trash bin, I wore the mask I bought a year before for Halloween to hide my identity and waited for him to pass by me unnoticed.
Walking past me unaware that I am there, I tackled him down and mounted him. I watched MMA fighters execute this technique while training for this exact day.
Raining down punches, I ignore his pleas for mercy as I continue pummeling his face. After a while when I felt I did enough damage, I stopped my assault. I want him to still be able to go home, injured but alive. Then I ran like hell and hid my mask and shirt on a box in my room.
The next day the news of Jeffrey got injured in a fight spread to the school like wildfire. Clyde and Clifford were clueless it was me and accused other groups that they had a feud with them of the assault. I can barely hide my glee as I felt some weight got off of my shoulder. A little weight since the only way it would all be removed is when I beat the shit out of Clyde till he is on the brink of death, but still, it counts.
I continued to beat up my high school bullies one by one. I made sure groups will suspect other groups are taking revenge for their friend getting beat up. Thus chaos ensues in the school.
Every time school ended, various groups roam the streets, and when they meet another group, tension rises which usually ends in a brawl. Various groups hunting members of other groups and beating them to a pulp. Some of them even got knifed and in the midst of all of this chaos, I thrived as I continue to pick them out one by one until I cornered Clyde alone.
The plan had been perfect. Since that coward doesn't dare to go anywhere without a lackey or two, I need to find a way to isolate him. So I prepared a drink laced with laxatives and switched it with his when no one was looking. It was amazing to see how fast a person can run especially when shit is spouting out of his ass.
I know that he will order his lackeys away while he is in the boys' bathroom experiencing the diarrhea of his life. That is when I attacked. Wearing my mask, I kicked open the stall he is in. Mouth open, pants down, and shit still coming out like a volcano he was defenseless as I pummel his face. The rage inside my heart seems to fade away as the feeling of excitement took its place as the rush of adrenaline numbs the pain of my knuckles as I continued to beat him up for all of the pain he caused me and my family. I then dragged him out of the stall and kicked him out of the boys' bathroom into the hallway and I quickly escaped through the school window. No one tried to stop me for the lackeys are busy assisting the beat-up Clyde and the onlookers are busy laughing at his disgusting situation.
Clyde didn't attend school after that day. We just received news that he was transferred out to study overseas after that humiliating incident. The school conducted a manhunt to find the culprit, I was one of the suspects but since they don't have any evidence to pin the crime on me, I was on the clear.
Even after taking revenge on my worst tormentor, I couldn't stop fighting. I was addicted to the rush of battle. I even partook in cage matches against the other thugs to assert my dominance. After becoming the undisputed champion of the cage, I unmasked. Boy, the surprise in their faces when they found out that the boy they used to bully was the toughest guy in town. Although I stopped street fighting, I still participated in cage matches when someone gets their courage to challenge me.
My fall into the spiral of violence continued until my last year in high school. That is when I first met my future master who pulled me out of the world of violence by giving me a new purpose. Instead of mindless violence, he asked me to join him in channeling my anger and energy into martial arts, not just to make my body stronger, but also to temper my mind and not make me lose myself in violence just after he beat me up after I tried to attack him for interfering in one of my fights. It opened my eyes that there are a lot of people around me who are above me not only in technique but also in strength. At first, I only joined to learn more techniques that I can use to exact revenge on that old man, but after attending workouts for two months, I found myself liking martial arts more especially sparring with people who are stronger than me. The experience helped me a lot to clinch my first amateur championship. I remember my master's favorite line was "our body is like fire. It can be used to burn and destroy. But it also can provide warmth to a house when it is cold or cook food for the hungry. It is not how strong or weak the fire is. It is our purpose of using it."
My thoughts were interrupted when I was beginning to see the edge of the plains. It was still a few kilometers but still, I am relieved to see the end of my journey. Although I still don't feel fatigued, the mental strain of not knowing when you will arrive at your destination still weighs on me.
I started to run. For how long I don't know, but as soon as I reach the edge my hopes were shattered. What greeted me is not the end of my journey, instead, I stand at the edge of the plains with nothing but the endless abyss going forward. I started to get more and more agitated. I started to skirt along the edge of the plains, in hopes of finding a secret stair or entrance to somewhere that is not an endless empty plain. Alas, it was nowhere to be found.
To put my mind out of the endless trek, I continue to practice the techniques I have learned in the gym by shadow fighting. It was a valuable lesson I learned from the master that allows me to apply what I learned by fighting an imaginary opponent. I usually use Vincent as my opponent in shadow boxing since he was the best fighter in the gym with martial prowess which is second only to master. Whenever I get bored with walking, I start to practice. Still oblivious of how much time has passed I continued my travel until I fell my mind is about to break and I let out a shout of frustration.
I was shocked after I heard a voice shout from behind me. "Finally I found you!" I turned around and saw the first person in this godforsaken place for the first time. A 2-meter-tall man, a couple of hundred meters away from me came running at full speed. It only took under a minute for him to appear before me.
"At last I found you! The anomaly!" He exclaimed, with almost a crazy look in his face.