Life as Alex Smith was great.
After all, why would it not be? He was exceptional, leagues ahead of all of his foolish classmates. Oh but was he? The voice inside purred as an antithesis to the voice outside.
He was never exceptional, never was good at anything besides academics. He was the one who was gifted, the one who was the best at everything he did. He never did anything except the things he was good at. He was more mature, more emotionally stable, more eloquent.
He never cried, didn’t become depressed over things as trivial as breakups. Sometimes he wished he could cry like them too, maybe then he would become human too. He was rational, knew the ups and downs of everything he did, he never did things on impulse. He was afraid of trying new things, afraid he would mess them up just like he messed up everything he touched.
It did not matter if his parents were never present in his life, he understood their jobs were important, and he had forgiven them a long time ago. He had never forgiven his parents, never forgotten spending all his birthdays without them, never forgotten being jealous of the other kids when they played with their parents as he sat on the swing wishing his parents would swing it too.
It did not matter if his idiotic classmates called him a teacher’s pet, they were only ever jealous of his academic brilliance. They were right though, he always did do things to appease his teachers, always to get a moment of the affection he was deprived of. It did not matter if his sleep schedule was less than healthy, he was already better than them, he did not need sleep as they did. When he was still a child, he had nightmares of being completely alone so he started sleeping just enough to not have any dreams at all.
So what if he was bad at sports? No great genius was known to be good at them. He knows he isn’t a genius and is only exaggerating his grandeur, but he likes to pretend he is, just like he pretends to be happy whenever his parents come home.
So what if he didn’t have friends? It was not like he had met anyone who could relate to him, they always lacked the intellect to truly understand him. He still remembers Emily even though she was not intelligent like him, even though she was unnecessarily loud, even though she never understood his problems, his loneliness. She was his first and only friend, and he still wishes she would come back so he could just sit and listen while she babbled incoherently.
So what if his parents valued their job over him? He did not care for he knew they provided for him and he was grateful for that. Lies. He was never a grateful child, he loathed them for never valuing him enough.
Life as Alex Smith was great. But was it though?
Sometimes, he wishes that the voice inside and outside would be the same. Maybe they would if he slept and never woke up again. Maybe then he would stop existing as a ■■■■■■■–
"Alex? Earth to Alex." Whispered a voice so very near to his ear, surprising him enough to break him out of his stupor. It wasn’t without consequences though as Thud. It seemed he had fallen from his bed. Giving him a hand, the same voice spoke, "Are you alright Alex?"
Alex, taking up the hand responded, "You don't need to worry mother, I am fine." He was definitely not fine seeing he had fallen off his bed, painfully, but he was right in saying she did not need to worry, after all, he had taken care of himself after much more painful experiences.
"Sorry for surprising you." His mother awkwardly scratched the back of her head.
Regardless, he was surprised to be unable to recall the last of his thoughts, which all things considered was pretty concerning. Something to think about later perhaps. Not betraying his surprise though, he looked up to see the figure of his mother, Gracia Smith, wife of Adam Smith, his father. She was the one from whom he had most of his looks and his blond hair, while it was from his father he had inherited his black, no dark brown eyes. His eyes and hair made up an unusual combination.
He was jerked out of his thoughts again as he heard his mother, "-and we will be leaving now. So, we have decided to leave you some money to enjoy a party with your friends tomorrow."
"What?" Alex’s head snapped up as his eyes burned with anger and hurt. I should have known better than to hope that they would stay, "But you said you would!"
"Again, I am sorry Alex that we cannot be with you on your birthday but I promise that both of us will be sure to be with you on the next one alright sweetheart?" They had made this promise 12 times already, it was getting quite annoyingly repetitive.
"This is not the first time you have done this mother, and you know it won't be the last time. Why you even bother to make these fake promises is beyond me. All you seem to be good at is promising to hurt me every damn time." He was sure even his father had heard the last of his words with how high his voice had risen.
"I am sorry Alex, I really am but your father and I have no choice. Our job is-"
"Pretty important, I get it.", his voice quivered, "Just please leave."
He did not dare look up to see the concern in his mother's eyes, for he was not sure what he would have done in anger because of her audacity to appear as if she cared about him.
These fake promises still hurt, and so did the formality between him and his parents but well he had learned to live with it. He looked at the clock to ensure he had enough time to get ready because birthday or not, he still had to go to school. The red letters on the digital clock read 7:42 AM 29/02/2024. It appeared that his birthday, certainly unique in its nature for being on 29 February of all days, was going to be half spent in school. Nevertheless, as if singing a sad melody, his mouth sang, "Happy birthday to me," as he went along with his normal routine.
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Half an hour later, grabbing a quick drink from the local coffee shop, Alex began his trek to school. It was not even morning and he was already so damn tired. Compared to other days that is. He was always tired but today was a step above that. As he waited at a bus stop, he looked at himself from a random window pane. Standing at barely above 6 feet, with long blond hair was he?
His appearance seemed strange to even himself. His hair, normally slicked back, was falling as waves, and his face looked gaunt from the bare amount of food he had eaten in the past few days. Even his ever-present dark circles were not covered by makeup as usual. All in all, he looked quite haggard.
Drip..drip..drip, the sound of raindrops falling on the dry streets of San Francisco stopped his assessment of himself. The wetness of his cheeks did little to stop him from admiring the picturesque scene in front of him. The shadows from the clouds fell on the city and brought upon a mesmerising darkness that seemed to pull him in. Suddenly, as to break him out of this lull, the bus arrived and with what seemed to be a violation of the highest degree, blocked the scene in front of him.
Slowly, as if he was still enthralled by the beauty of the rain, he climbed up the stairs and took a free seat which allowed him to once again witness the falling of raindrops from the cloudy sky. It was not to last as he was interrupted from this task when his classmates' chit-chatter rose in volume. Classmates? It would be better to call them insects instead, incredibly annoying and overall worthless.
Seeing as he had nothing better to do, Alex started actively listening to his classmates, trying to find the barest hint of useful information among the garbage they talked about. Besides, the sun was starting to peek through the clouds and the school seemed to be getting pretty near too.
That plan soon fell out of the window as one of his classmates called out, "Oi Smith, isn't it your birthday today?"
Maybe the no-name would stop trying to call him if he ignored him enou- "Stop trying to ignore me, Smith, you don’t want a fight here do you now?"
"Yeah well, you and I both know it’s my birthday. So why bother?"
"Why bother indeed, tell me Smith how many times has it been now that your parents forgot your birthday? 10? 11?"
Alex was both thankful and pissed as the bus rolled to a stop allowing him to get off before he would do something that he would regret later or come up with an equally insulting retort.
The entire ordeal between him and his classmate, barely comprising 4 sentences, had managed to ruin his mood beyond repair. And he had thought today couldn't get worse. He was pretty sure everyone recognised how angry he was as they gave him a wide berth on the way to his classroom.
Lost in his thoughts, Alex entered the classroom and waited for the teacher to arrive.
The sheer nerve of them to dare talk about his life as if they understood what it was like to be him. He would show them one day when it would be he who was at the top and they beneath him. They were mere pebbles in his path. He would crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush them. Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush Crush CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH CRU-"ith. Are you even paying attention, Mr Smith?"
Alex was surprised that his neck hadn’t snapped off because of how quickly he had turned his head. He had no idea what that was. His whole body was shaking, and it seemed as if his heart was trying to escape through his body, seeing how fast it was beating. He needed to calm down and answer the teacher before there could be a scene. Wiping the sweat off his face, he did just that, "Apologies professor, I was just lost in my thoughts."
"I am letting you off the hook this time, seeing you have aced yesterday’s test, Mr Smith. Ensure that this is not a repeating performance."
"Thank you, professor, I will do my best to ensure this does not repeat."
"So you shall young man."
He had no idea how he survived classes when his heartbeat seemed to be increasing every second. It probably had to do something with him trying to calm down by taking deep breaths every minute or so.
He had never run so fast as he had the moment the bell, signalling the start of recess, rang. Entering the restroom, he leaned towards the mirror and tried to once again calm the fuck down. But before he could do that, Buzzzzz.., it seemed that someone had called him. Whoever thought that calling him at this time was a fucking moron. He would fucking kill the caller.
He glared at his phone with all his hatred. Sighing, he nevertheless decided to entertain the caller, "Hello, am I talking to Alex Smith of 576 Lane St, San Francisco?"
Probably the authorities. Can't even curse them. Just what I fucking wanted, "Yes you are, is there something I can do for you?"
Alex was sure that the long pause that followed would’ve led him to cut off the call and plot to kill the officer who had frankly pissed him off even more, if not for, "I am sorry Mr Smith… I don’t know how to break this to you gently." The person on the other side paused as if to take a breath and then, "But your parents are dead."