Since childhood, I have been questioning the superficiality of existence that most people passively accept. The concept of dedicating the younger years to studies, only to submit to a possibly detestable job, followed by marriage to anyone to form a family, seems absurd and devoid of meaning to me.

The idea of spending a whole life in an incessant pursuit, studying hard to achieve a job that consumes my essence, working for others only to eventually retire and face the inevitability of death in old age, is something I simply cannot accept. Why should we spend life pursuing something that doesn't bring us true happiness, only to end up aging and lonely, trapped in an old and desperate carcass, with a morbid hope that our descendants will fare better?

This simplistic view of the cycle of life - to be born, to grow, to reproduce, and to die - not only seems excessively simplistic, but also extremely morbid. Why should we resign ourselves to living as cogs in a machine with a rigidly defined purpose?

I hate it. I hate this cycle of life. I hate aging. I hate being an imperfect mechanism. I hate being a flawed human destined, in the end, for death.

I vehemently refuse to be trapped by this morbid cycle.

I WILL TRANSCEND!!

Lucien Lambert, a 17-year-old young man, with beauty that seemed sculpted by the gods themselves, was rooted at the window of his room, his gaze fixed on the moon that bathed the world with its silver light. His brown hair cascaded down to his shoulders, a perfect frame for a face of delicate features, where his blue eyes shone like deep sapphires, revealing a hidden coldness beneath his serenity.

As he contemplated the vastness of the night sky, Lucien plunged into a whirlwind of dark and unsettling thoughts. He questioned the purpose of this journey called life, a journey that, in the end, seemed doomed to the inevitability of death. Why aging? Why the fragility of human existence?

"I know many may consider my thoughts merely juvenile rebellion," Lucien pondered to himself. "After all, at my tender age of 17, perhaps I should be considered inexperienced. But the truth is, I am tired... Tired of this inexorable march towards the unknown."

The sense of constant decline, even in the prime of his youth, weighed upon Lucien like a chilling shadow. He could feel time slipping through his fingers, as if he were gradually disintegrating, even while at the peak of his vitality. He knew that soon this sensation would intensify, that he would become merely a shadow of what he once was, trapped in a cocoon of wrinkles and frailty.

"To ultimately die and be forgotten in a few months... I don't want to leave this world because we have so little time to truly live," murmured Lucien to himself, feeling a growing anger against the relentless fate that seemed determined to snatch away his life before he could truly live it.

Before he could delve further into these dark thoughts, the insistent buzz of his cellphone broke the silence of the night. Distractedly, he pulled the device from his pocket, his gaze falling on the caller ID, revealing it to be his cowardly father, a figure representing everything Lucien wished to escape.

Lucien recalled that fateful day when his mother departed from this world, an event that marked the beginning of his lonely and challenging journey. His father, once gentle, revealed himself to be a cowardly and weak man, unable to cope with the tragedy that befell the family. At only three years old, Lucien witnessed his mother's death in a car accident, where his father, the driver, faced the anguish of loss and the gut-wrenching guilt of being responsible.

"I remember it as if it were yesterday," thought Lucien, his mind delving into the painful memories of that fateful day. "I felt so fragile, so brittle... as if my own existence were about to crumble at any moment."

The image of his mother, once radiant and vibrant, now reduced to a mere corpse lying on the ground, remained etched in his mind like an indelible scar, a constant reminder of life's ephemerality and the cruelty of fate.

After the accident, his father's countenance, once radiant and welcoming, transformed into a mask of pain and guilt. Unable to face the magnitude of the tragedy that had shattered their family, he buried himself in his work, leaving Lucien to fend for himself. Growing up without a mother's presence and with an absent father was like being cast into a stormy sea without a compass to guide the way. It was a lonely and challenging journey for such a young boy, a passage through which he had to navigate alone, facing waves of sadness and loneliness that threatened to drown him at every moment.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

In the unfathomable silence of his nights, Lucien found himself immersed in an ocean of emotions, where tears of sorrow and the echo of his own loneliness were his only companions. He wondered if anyone would notice his silent tears, if anyone would hear the muffled sobs that escaped from his chest amidst the darkness. But the world remained indifferent, and Lucien found himself alone to bear the overwhelming burden of his pain.

"Some cowards like him might claim that this accident traumatized my father, that it affected him irreparably," reflected Lucien, his words tinged with a mixture of disbelief and bitterness. His gaze, which once reflected the innocence of childhood, now carried the premature weight of experience. "But what about me? Didn't I feel sad? Didn't I cry in the silence of the night, with no one to wipe away my tears or offer a comforting embrace?"

Despite the desolation that surrounded him, Lucien did not allow himself to sink into the depths of self-pity. He refused to be defined by suffering, to succumb to the overwhelming weight of tragedy. Instead, he channelled his pain into an unshakable strength, turning his suffering into fuel for growth and overcoming. Every tear shed became a drop of determination, feeding the blazing flame of his resilience.

While his academic performance stood out, Lucien was seen as a genius by many. His sharp mind and insatiable thirst for knowledge elevated him above his peers, even though he himself cared little for others' opinions. His personal life, though shrouded in an aura of excellence, was marked by a subtle loneliness, despite always being surrounded by people. And despite being admired by many girls in his class, Lucien remained indifferent, maintaining a calculated distance from any emotional involvement.

However, his father's figure remained a thorn in his heart. A man he once admired, now seen as a coward who abandoned him and dishonored his mother's memory. The shadow of betrayal hung over their relationship, a wound that never fully healed.

"I didn't just sit around feeling sorry for myself," declared Lucien, his voice echoing with unwavering determination. His eyes, now illuminated by an inner flame, reflected a fierce determination. "I grew, I became stronger. I became perfect, even without anyone to guide me. And one day, I will make my father see that his cowardice cannot define me. I will be more than he ever imagined I could be."

Realizing that his thoughts had taken him too far, Lucien shook his head slightly, regaining focus as he answered the phone. He heard his father's hoarse voice on the other end of the line, a presence that stirred a mixture of emotions within him.

"Hello, Lucien."

"Hi, dad. Isn't it a little late to be calling?" Lucien replied, his tone revealing a hint of impatience mixed with curiosity.

"Good evening to you too, Lucien. I heard you were the top of your class and you're on school break now, about to enter the third year of high school," said the father, his voice sounding somewhat hesitant.

"Go on," replied Lucien, his impassive expression revealing only a glimmer of interest in the conversation.

"Well, now that you're on break, I thought I'd take the opportunity to come over. And I have a big surprise for you," the father added, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Cool. Are you done?" Lucien responded, his voice revealing a certain disinterest.

"Well, yes. Goodnight," said the father, resigned.

"Goodbye, dad," replied Lucien, hanging up the phone with a sigh. Despite his apparent indifference, a mix of emotions hit him as he stared at the device in his hands: resentment, sadness, and a twinge of hope, all mixed in a jumble of feelings he preferred not to explore at that moment.

Lucien put his hand to his delicate face, his fingers gently tracing the contours of his skin. A sigh escaped his lips as he shook his hair, a look of determination lighting up his gaze. "Oh well," he murmured to himself. "I'll take a shower and go to sleep. It's already late anyway, it must be around midnight now. Perfect time to relax."

After a restorative shower, Lucien wrapped a white towel around his waist, displaying his toned abdomen. Moonlight filtered through the cracks in the curtains, creating undulating patterns on the hallway floor as he walked back to his room.

With another towel, he dried his brown hair, the damp strands clinging softly to his skin. As he opened the door to his room, a shiver ran down his spine. His cellphone, which he remembered leaving switched off on the bed, was now on.

The screen glowed in a strange red color, reminiscent of freshly spilled blood. Cautiously, Lucien approached, his heart beating faster in his chest. A sense of unease settled in his mind as he saw a strange message occupying the entire screen of the cellphone.

The deep red letters seemed to pulsate, as if they had a life of their own. In the message, a simple yet loaded question stood out:

"Would you like to transcend?"

The options "Yes" and "No" blinked before him, each representing a path, a choice that would change his life forever.