“You know, I really thought things would change once I got to university. But it’s the same bullying, the same bullshit from a group of so-called adults who haven’t grown up. I know I should be scared right now. I mean, barring some miracle my life is basically over. But, I’m just too angry to be scared. Although, they do say that depression and rage are the same emotion, with different energy levels. So pardon me when I finally cool off and collapse into a sobbing puddle of shame.”
“It’s not just rage, its righteous indignation. Its fury ignited from a thousand little matchsticks piled up over a lifetime. And this, my casual murder, is the final spark. Argh, I need something to punch. Someone to punch. Like those jerks at Amber Flag Academy. Twelve years with the same twenty-four stuck up, self-righteous assholes. Twelve years of being shunned by those rich shits. Twelve years of being the only fat kid in class. They were all phenomes with talent and genius. That bastard Luke even ascended to the earthly realm. Damn, I want to punch him so badly. But as he is now, he wouldn’t feel it.”
“I’ll just have to find some other kind of revenge. Now that I can no longer give a damn about the consequences. Back in school, all I could do to get even was keep them from getting the high scores. You were all destined for greatness, geniuses with talents in music, sports, poetry or science. But the ugly fat kid always placed top at every test. I knew that just ate you up. Here you are, the chosen, gifted with unlimited potential, being held up by some poor fat kid. Oh, how I must have wounded your pride.
I pushed myself, harder than I thought possible, to graduate as valedictorian. To laud that one thing over them. But it was Luke who got to speak that day. He was already close to ascension at that time, so of course, Amber Flag needed to show off its pride and joy. I hate them, hate all of them. Well, maybe not my parents.”
“I used to hate my parents though. I pleaded with them for years to go to public school. Begged them for a chance to get out of that shithole. Hated them for not giving me enough time or love. But now that I’m a bit older, I can see how they worked themselves to exhaustion just to pay the tuition. From their point of view, they sacrificed everything to give me the best possible education. But some good that did. Their son and only child died on a field trip in his second year of college. Dead, by the same kind of shit heads that made his life a living hell for the last thirteen years.”
“No real point in wishing I could change it all. My parents did what they thought was right, and maybe all that suffering was for the best. Made my character stronger or something. But really, if I could change something, I wouldn’t have gone to Descon University. Then again, my reason for choosing Descon might have been a mistake too. Being valedictorian of the prestigious Amber Flag Academy earned me scholarship rights to just about any place I wanted. I think the mistake was in choosing to pursue the philosophy of ascension. I could have gone to MITT and studied the biological components, but that just seemed too solid, too ridged for my mind. It didn’t really suit my yearning to conquer the abstract. And really, I think it’s a dead-end to study hard science. At least for right now. I think there’d need to be tools and instruments born of the divine before you could really study the divine. So, really I fell to my curiosity and landed here.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“No, wait. That brute Chad is why I landed here. But where is here? I mean I know where we are, but where in San Agustin are we?”
Earlier Rhett awoke in a pile of vomit at the bottom of a long narrow shaft. He realized he must have had a concussion, and checked himself out for other injuries and his surroundings. He wondered how many times he had done this before he had the wherewithal to remember. His left leg had a compound fracture of the shin bone. His hip was crushed and he had a concussion. Definitely a concussion.
Motes of light drifted down from between the plants and vines that hid the small opening to the shaft. Thirty feet below was the cold stone floor. The walls curved as they rose, growing narrower at the top. Rhett determined that it was impossible to get back out the way he got in and would need to find another path. A large polished copper disk on the wall, strangely untouched by the effects of aging and corrosion, reflected light further into the chamber.
Rhett mustered up the last bits of strength and dragged himself along the floor. He had hoped for an exit, escape, and rescue. But he only found a single room blocked off by a cave-in or collapse. A small pool of water had gathered on the floor, and beyond it, a statue of Buddha carved into the wall. It held one hand up and in the other rested a small stone jar. Below the statue’s feet was a long series of writings carved beautifully into the stone. The text inscribed in several languages. Untouched and undamaged for generations. Light reflected off the pool and lit up the statue’s pump face. Buddha’s comforting features became Rhett’s only friend and through a concussed mind he sought to expel his last will and testimony.
Rhett found the carving as the last vestiges of his shock and endorphins were wearing off. He had crawled around the pit he fell into and finally came to this strange hidden chamber. His anger waned and despair set in. He laid his head on the floor and cried. His stomach gurgled. In the last bits of light, Rhett lay his head upon the cold stone floor and read the inscriptions. They looked to be written in kanji, pinyin, and Aramaic. Not knowing anything else Rhett sounded out to Romanized letters and read through the sutra until he fell asleep.