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The Hero's Double Game
Chapter 1 - Striker #1

Chapter 1 - Striker #1

"It had gone well."

"What's this? You're on fire."

"Get back to bed."

"Come on, eat."

XXX

Another day, another therapy session, and with that, I would have to pay $30 for the consultation.

I think it was a waste of time, I believed it was a waste of time.

Maybe I was rushing things. I had only had less than 2 sessions, but I really needed to put an end to my nightmares.

I was apathetic about everything, I didn't think it would give me any solution to the origin of my problems. Improving my diet, getting enough sleep, medication, helping in my grandmother's garden (which looked more like a small farm in the middle of the small town due to its size) hadn't stopped my nightmares.

Every time I woke up, I felt the same, tired, irritated, with pains all over my body, and drenched in sweat.

The small camera recording me while I slept (which was just an old phone of mine) placed on a stand taped to the bedpost hadn't given me any clues to my nightmares.

Apart from realizing that I snore while sleeping, everything was so normal until the moment I woke up.

"Ah!"

I pressed the screen of my phone, stopping the video of me sleeping before waking up abruptly, almost jumping out of bed with the sheets and the pillow.

"Ah, I don't understand, I don't understand."

I ran my fingers through my hair as I let the phone drop onto my chest, scratching my head with my nails, trying to destress, more as an attempt to cool down the stress accumulating in my head.

There was no solution that would allow me to sleep without dreaming.

Nothing I try works.

Everything is going to waste.

I think to myself as I settle back, leaning against the warm wall of my room.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

It's early May and as expected from this place, the average temperature at this time of year is 35 to 40 degrees Celsius or more, with a fairly humid climate. Even when the sun has already set, the houses still feel hot.

[12:03 PM]

[07/04/20XX] [38°C]

Without thinking, I take control of the air conditioning, without remorse for how much my parents will scold me for using it to the maximum. I let it do its job while I lose myself in the view of my room.

Starting to scan every inch, every place.

Passing by a cluttered desk, the wardrobe, the shoe rack, ending up at another bed belonging to my twin sister, yes, for the record, I had a sister.

But recently she was sleeping in a separate room due to my waking up filled with screams and panic attacks.

Putting my phone in one of my pockets.

I sigh, trying to relax. Trying to get it out of my head by jumping out of bed, putting on the first thing my feet reach, this time it was a slipper, continuing my way through my room and exiting through the door, closing it behind me as I pass.

I don't stop, I keep walking down a hallway, almost immediately feeling the hot air as I leave my room, more like a sensation of stepping into a steam pot, hot and humid air everywhere.

As I wipe off some sweat forming on my forehead, I realize I haven't stopped walking.

Now beside me is a large room, with a double bed, a clothes rack, a box full of shoes, a TV mounted on the wall by a bracket, and a small yellow sponge resting in one of the corners of the room.

There's no one there, at least not now.

It's less than 12 noon on a Tuesday, at this time I should be in high school, but due to my appointment with the shrink. I managed to skip today.

I keep walking and arrive at the living room, looking to the left, at the far end there's a door leading to the patio, feeling my mouth dry, I walk to the right just in the place of the kitchen, passing the sink, the stove, dishwasher, shelves to reach the refrigerator.

I open it and grab any cold, sweet liquid that I can put into my mouth.

A box of grape juice is what my hands reach, necessary for this hot day.

Without further contemplation, I drink it, tossing the lid wherever it falls as I retrace my steps, while taking sips of the now finished juice, which although acidic when unmixed, is refreshing for this hot day.

As I pass by my parents' room, a few meters from mine, a rhythmic and familiar sound filled the air.

"BEEP, BEEP"

The sound, like a repetitive melody, filtered through the slightly open door, piquing my curiosity.

It belonged to my pocket, still taking a few sips of the already finished juice, I take out my phone, unlocking it almost instantly a chat appears at the top of the screen.

Instantly, I feel my blood run cold and my eyelids widen more than usual.

"What exactly does this mean?"

With the message, there are some photos that I instantly recognize as what they mean.

Report Card

Student Name: Ethan Nikolái Ramos Sánchez Grade: 10th grade. Subjects: Mathematics: Grade: 6.5 Physics: Grade: 6.0 Literature: Grade: 6.2 History: Grade: 7.0 Overall Average: 6.425 Additional Comments: Ethan Nikolái has demonstrated a reasonable academic average; however, his irregular attendance, lack of attention in class, and sleeping in class have affected his overall performance. Significant improvement in his commitment to education and classroom behavior is required to reach his full academic potential. "Oh crap."

And that's how it all started to go downhill.