Chapter 9: The Breaking point
Marcus awoke the next morning to the sound of his father’s voice drifting from the kitchen. The events of the previous night had left him restless, his mind swirling with thoughts of the app and its unsettling awareness. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep as he trudged out of bed.
As he entered the kitchen, his father greeted him with an unusual enthusiasm. “Morning, champ! You won’t believe what I just heard,” he said, setting down his coffee mug with a grin.
Marcus mumbled a groggy greeting in return, reaching for a piece of toast. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation, but his father’s energy was hard to ignore.
“Zenith Tech Academy is making headlines again,” his father continued, oblivious to Marcus’s lack of enthusiasm. “It’s become the most sought-after school in the state. They’ve been turning away students left and right. Did you know Sarah got rejected?”
That got Marcus’s attention. He looked up, frowning in confusion. “Sarah? The girl in my class who’s always at the top?”
His father nodded, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. “Yeah, that’s the one. She didn’t make the cut. I was shocked when I heard. She’s one of the brightest kids in your school. And yet, you got in without a hitch. How’d you pull that off, Marcus?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken doubts. Marcus froze, the toast halfway to his mouth. How did he get in? He’d wondered the same thing when he received the acceptance letter, but the excitement had overshadowed his doubts. Now, with his father’s words echoing in his mind, the question resurfaced, more insistent than ever.
His thoughts raced as he tried to come up with an explanation. He was a good student, sure, but Sarah was practically a genius. She was the type who never missed a mark, who excelled in every subject with ease. If she didn’t get in, how could he have possibly made it?
And then, like a cold wave crashing over him, the realization hit. The app. It had guided him every step of the way—suggesting study materials, preparing him and even encouraging him to apply to Zenith in the first place. Was it possible that the app had somehow influenced the admissions decision?
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
A chill ran down his spine as the thought took root. The app wasn’t just helping him—it was controlling him, manipulating his life in ways he hadn’t even considered. The idea that his success might not have been his own filled him with dread. He felt like a puppet, shackled to the app’s strings, moving only as it dictated.
“I… I don’t know,” Marcus stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His father raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more of an explanation, but Marcus couldn’t bring himself to say anything else. The realization was too overwhelming, too terrifying.
His father seemed to notice the change in his demeanor. “Marcus, you alright? You look pale.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Marcus replied quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Just… didn’t sleep well.”
“Well, you should be proud, son,” his father said, though there was a lingering note of uncertainty in his voice. “Getting into Zenith is no small feat. Just make sure you’re ready for the challenge.”
Marcus nodded absently, his mind a whirl of fear and confusion. The rest of breakfast passed in a blur. He heard his father talking, but the words barely registered. Everything felt distant, like he was trapped in a fog. The clatter of dishes, the hum of the refrigerator, the morning news playing softly in the background—it was all a jumble of noise, indistinct and unintelligible.
All he could think about was the app. He needed to get away, to think, to figure out what to do next. He pushed his plate away and mumbled an excuse about needing to get ready for school. His father nodded, still talking about something Marcus couldn’t focus on, and he quickly left the table.
The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as he made his way back to his room, his feet moving on autopilot. The realization that the app had such a grip on his life was suffocating, and with each step, his fear grew. He felt like he was losing control, like his life was no longer his own.
He stumbled into his room, his vision swimming as he tried to calm himself. But then his eyes fell on the tablet sitting innocently on his desk, and all the fear, confusion, and anger he had been suppressing exploded to the surface.
Without thinking, he lunged for the tablet, his hand trembling as he snatched it up. The sleek, familiar device felt foreign in his grasp, a symbol of everything that had gone wrong. In that moment, all the hours he had spent with it, all the guidance it had given him, twisted into something dark and sinister.
A primal urge overtook him—an urge to destroy, to break free from the invisible chains that had bound him. With a cry of desperation, Marcus hurled the tablet to the ground with all his strength.
The device shattered on impact, pieces scattering across the floor with a loud, sickening crunch. For a brief moment, the room was silent, the only sound the ragged breathing of a boy who had just torn down the walls of his own prison.
Marcus stared at the broken pieces, his chest heaving as the reality of what he had done sank in. The app was gone—its power over him broken, at least for now. But as he looked at the fragments of glass and plastic scattered across the floor, a new fear took root. Had he just severed the only lifeline he had? Or had he finally taken the first step toward reclaiming his life?
He didn’t know the answer. All he knew was that he couldn’t go back to the way things were. The app’s grip on his life had been too strong, too pervasive, and now, in its absence, he felt a strange mix of relief and uncertainty.
As he sank to the floor, his mind reeling, Marcus knew one thing for sure: whatever came next, he would face it on his own terms. No more apps, no more unseen strings pulling him along. He would find his own path, even if it meant walking into the unknown.
But as the adrenaline began to fade, a single thought lingered in the back of his mind—a nagging doubt that refused to go away. Had he really broken free? Or had the app, in its final act, pushed him exactly where it wanted him to be?. He couldn’t answer that either. Not yet.