QUICK PREREAD NOTE!!!
Hi there! CloudedDaydreamer here!
I just wanted to address something you might notice while reading this: this part is... kinda long. I know I said I was going to try to be consistent and make future uploads shorter than the prologue to focus more on quality, but next week I have a lot going on with school, and won't have as much time to prep something for you! So, this week's upload is gonna be a little longer than usual, and next week's upload is gonna be a little shorter than usual. I apologize for this weirdness, and I'll try to be more consistent in the future. Please bear with me, as I'm still finding my rhythm in life!
Alright, that's all I wanted to say! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy part 2 of chapter 1!
See you next week!
-Cloudy
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Chapter I
The Boy Called "Oddball"
[Part II]
[R e a l i t y]
The rain was slowing to a stop. The air was dense with the fog of falling drizzle. Within the haze, he could barely make out the ghostly shapes of trees swaying gently and contributing to the dying white noise of the fading rainstorm with the rustling of their branches. Keeping time for the rainstorm’s declining song was the intermittent tap tap tap of heavier water droplets dripping from edges and posts and gutters to strike the ground.
Oddball stepped through the door, letting it shut behind him. The brisk breeze seized the edges of his garments and tugged them about. The edge of his hood billowed inwards, interrupting his vision. He tugged the slight irritation away, turned his back to the wind, and started walking. He was on a long walkway, with the open air to his right and a long wall of dull cement to his left. Spaced in the wall at large intervals was the same cream-colored, metal door, each tagged with a different number on their face.
The dormitories were tomb-like during the Summer. The three-story buildings, built up of rooms crammed together and stacked on top of one another, stood hollow and lifeless. Silence replaced the idle talk and laughter that normally roamed the walkways.
Rarely, one could see another student lurk by, skulking away into their dark rooms like spiders returning to their holes, seeking asylum from the daylight. These students were reclusive creatures; the loners at cafeteria tables, sitting together but never sharing words; only daring to exchange brief, awkward glances. Every one of them had their own reason for not going home over Summer Break: summer studies, cheap housing, avoidance of one thing or another—but you’d never hear it from them directly. They only emerged in the safety of the setting sun once every couple weeks or so.
Descending two flights of enclosed stairs straight out of a horror film, Oddball was free of the concrete prison and into the open air. He started for the road, the outlines of a destination forming in his mind.
He passed the dormitory office—a small room crammed between an out-of-service elevator and the stairs. There was a girl inside, who looked up at his approach with bright blue eyes. She threw a small smile in his direction, accompanied by a timid wave. Oddball squirmed and did his best to look away, pretending not to notice.
I really wish you’d stop that, he thought, we don’t know each other. The thought was followed by the immediate formation of a regretful pit in his chest. That was rude… He tossed a glance over his shoulder. The girl had returned to idly shuffling papers, periodically pausing to brush a lock of golden hair from her face. Was that expression on her face…annoyance? Disappointment? I’m sorry. You seem nice. Oddball bit his tongue to keep the words from taking shape and flying into the air between them. He slowed for a moment, shifting his gaze back down to watch the ground pass beneath his feet. She was here every week. She waved and smiled every week. Maybe he could talk to her? He could at least wave back…
No. The thought came so immediately to shove the image of her into the depths of his subconscious, that he swore someone else had spoken it aloud. She doesn’t know you. She’s just being nice. She does that with everyone. The pit of guilt vanished, replaced by the faint sinking of his heart. Then, as quickly as it had all come, it was gone, and Oddball found himself gazing wistfully at the dark shapes of the trees in the mist as he walked in the middle of a lonely road. Gazing down the center of the road, it seemed to stretch forever; no matter how much he walked, he never seemed to be getting anywhere. One either side was a wall of green, messy life; dense overgrowth that had never been cut back spilled lazily into the street.
He paused for a moment to lift his camera from his chest. A click of a button, and its small digital screen came to life. The lens telescoped forward with a barely audible whir, giving the camera a sudden front-heaviness in his hands. He lifted the screen to his eye, steadying his arms to wrestle the center of the road into the center of the frame. He slowed his breathing. Perfect.
The air reeked of soaked soil with a hint of decaying seagrass. When he breathed it in, it tasted faintly of salt. The sounds of the rain had long gone; even the hushed drizzle was beginning to lift. The wind had become a breeze, dancing over the branches of the trees that whispered and quivered with excitement at its touch. Somewhere in the distance was the faint roar of the coast; water crashed furiously against rock and sand. The pavement in the frame was dark and bore the sheen of the summer rainstorm; a road lined densely with trees and overgrowth on either side, longing to be embraced by the tires of passing cars once more. A lonely, woodland road on the coast.
A click and all this was captured and preserved in the eye of the camera and its holder. Oddball sighed and let the camera hang from his neck again, not bothering to check the results as he resumed his walk.
The once-distant crashing of open waves was growing closer now, and up ahead the green vegetation was growing sparse to give way to an expansive clash between nature and mankind. On the right was a row of densely packed buildings: shops and offices lining sidewalks, streets, and parking lots. On the left, the land fell away abruptly to a gray-blue ocean as far as the eye could see. Steep swells of water crashed against rocky outcrops, turning to frothing white foam that leapt to kiss the bleak sky in a romance forbidden by gravity. In the distance, a lighthouse leaned precariously off the tip of a small stretch of dry land. Oddball made his way to the dropoff, where a long, steel bar lined the edge to prevent the unaware or inattentive from a fatal stumble into the turmoil below. He leaned up against the railing, breathing in the ocean air and peering over the edge. The cliff wasn’t much higher than a two-story home or so, but the way the water threw itself against the cliff face justified the railing’s existence. The breeze was against his face now, filling his hood, chilling his ears and neck, and sending shivers down his back. He shut his eyes and drank it all in. Behind him, the town was quiet.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
It is still early in the day… He lifted his gaze to the ceiling of rain clouds that held back the normal deep blue of the summer sky. That would do it too…
He raised his camera to his eyes again, fixating on one particular mass of black rock jutting up from the restless sea. He waited, not daring to blink for fear of missing the moment he wanted to capture. The ocean heaved and lurched about as if the rain was still falling and the winds were still strong. In a flash, one large swell rose up and impaled itself on the rocky spear, splintering into billions of tiny white pearls that hung in air momentarily, as if each one had forgotten the laws that governed the world. Then, remembering gravity’s edict, they plummeted back down and vanished into the depths of the turbulent gray.
Click. Too late.
He leaned in a little closer, almost pressing the camera against his mask. His breathing became so quiet that he wasn’t even entirely certain that he wasn’t holding it in.
Another crash. White pearls took flight and fell within a matter of seconds.
Click. No good.
Another crash. Another click. Another failure. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
He lost count, feeling the clouds of irritation beginning to form at the back of his head. He let the camera rest, and turned his back to the ocean to scan the faces of the buildings before him. Nothing new or special there. It was just a smaller part of the coastal city, more rural and residential than anything else. Most every shop here was a small chain or family-owned. The only building of note to him was a small coffee shop with large windows and a lit neon sign of a pink jellyfish floating out of a white coffee mug. If it didn’t close so early every evening, he’d be out here at night to capture that sign at its best.
Why do they even have a neon sign if they’re never open at night? He drifted off on that question, straining his eyes to peer through the windows of the cafe. Even from out here, he could feel the warmth of the place inside. The imaginary smells of coffee and freshly baked pastries tempted him, daring him to walk through the door and take it all in. Then, as if to remind him, his hand flew up and adjusted his mask slightly.
You don’t belong there. He went back to ruminating on the absurdity of that ridiculous neon sign, until he became aware of another gaze observing him.
Seated at a table by one of the front windows was a girl in a bright-red raincoat; one so oversized that it looked like she might disappear into its depths at any moment—in a certain sense, it was almost comfy-looking. Her brown hair was messily pulled back and tied into a bun, with strands of it breaking loose and falling into her small face. Her complexion was lit with a mixture of subtle intrigue and confusion—like that of a researcher observing some new creature for the first time. Her eyes were covered with a large pair of black shades—big enough that there could have easily been another pair concealed beneath them, Oddball noted with slight amusement—but there was no denying that she was staring at him. This was confirmed when, likely realizing she had his attention, she smirked and regarded him with a small, laid-back wave.
Oddball froze. This wasn’t like the girl in the office, where a feign of ignorance could save him. Even through the sunglasses, he could feel this girl’s gaze searching him, taking him apart and examining each piece to try and understand who or what he was. Who the hell wears sunglasses on a day like this anyways?
A feeling like a heavy weight tied to his forehead began to drag his face down. His heart was beginning to beat faster. The girl gestured with one figure, then five, then one again, beaming at him the whole time, as if trying to tell him to wait. She grabbed her drink from the table, pulled her hood up—it enveloped her head, obscuring her face from view— and rose from her chair. She’s not actually—
She was. She threw another small wave to someone unseen at the back of the coffee shop and began to make her way to the door. Oddball whirled around and might have lost his camera in the process if its lanyard hadn’t kept it leashed to him. He snatched it out of the air before it could settle and tried to preoccupy himself with photographing the ocean again. Maybe if he looked busy, she’d think twice about disturbing him. The glass doors of the coffee shop squeaked open, and the chime of a small bell sang into the morning air.
Please go away. Footsteps. Just don’t talk to me. They were growing closer. Just go on with your business. Oddball’s hands were trembling. He couldn’t hold the camera still. Something was swelling in his chest. His mind was racing too fast to determine what the emotion was.
“Hey!” If friendliness had a voice, this would have been it. Full of cheer, oozing positivity, while all at the same time firm with confidence. “Mind if I join you?” All at once, Oddball’s mind stopped. There was no particular thought there. No panic. No excitement. It all just stopped. He was blank.
The rustling of a red raincoat filled the space beside him, gliding up and leaning against the railing. Oddball’s tongue went dry and locked itself to the floor of his mouth. His heart was pounding and writhing to leap free of his chest and flee, taking his soul with it. All of a sudden, the water seemed less turbulent. Each swell was frozen in place, and he watched it move mere centimeters over the course of a century. He was trapped now.
Say something. He had to do it. He didn’t want to be rude. Say something, idiot! His tongue wouldn’t move. The words wouldn’t come. The camera screen flickered off, allowing him to see the blurry reflection of his face.
A black mask, with white eyes and a white question mark. A mask. She couldn’t see him. He was safe.
He was wearing a mask. She couldn’t see him. He was safe.
“Hi.” The words came forth with a naturalness and cool that didn’t belong to him. Someone else was driving now.
“What’s your name,” asked the voice of amiableness.
He looked at his face in the blurry reflection.
“Oddball.”