With Arthur trailing behind me, I headed to the back left of the farm, following a narrow dirt path. The path seemed much clearer compared to the surroundings, thanks to Dad removing all the thistles and bushes. The chirping of birds and the incessant buzzing of small insects formed a small, annoying orchestra ringing in my ears. The mid-afternoon sun cast deep shadows within the forest, creating phantoms across the trees. Eventually, I heard the sounds of a steady, flowing stream.
I’m surprised that everything is going the way you intended.
“What do you mean?”
Your methods of convincing your mother to let you out were impressive, especially how you quickly improvised a way to move your sister out of the equation while still maintaining a good image in her eyes. I didn’t take you as the calculating type.
“Thanks, but it’s really not that impressive. All I did was hide my real intentions by making them focus on the image I created. Back where I’m from, a lot of people did the same thing. They used it to make friends, get jobs, build connections, or simply enhance their own lives. It’s a regular method that people generally use, even if they don’t consciously realize it.”
Isn’t that what Elaine talked about? The whole ‘not meaning what you say or do’?
“What about it?”
Well, you did exactly what she was talking about while she was talking about it. You’re kind of a dick for that.
“It’s not like revealing my intentions would be a smart option.”
Well, yeah, obviously you can’t just tell them who you really are, with your soul magic and your past life—
“No, not that, dumbass.”
Huh?
Arthur and I made our way to the creek. The aquamarine water glowed, and the sounds of frogs croaking and splashing filled the air. Numerous lily pads dotted the stream, with the shadows of small fish darting by in the water. I got as close as I could to the creek, and Arthur made sure I didn’t accidentally fall in. We squatted side by side as he handed me a few small cups for transporting the creek water into my watering can.
Are you going to finish what you started earlier?
“...There’s no point.”
Bro, come on. You can’t just dangle the fish hook right in front of me and expect me not to bite.
“Huh?”
Just tell me, you bitch.
I let out a deep sigh. “Are you sure?”
Sure as I’ll ever be.
“Look, revealing your true thoughts is just unwise in general. Let’s say you’re hanging out with your close friends. You’re living one of the best days of your life, thanks to the atmosphere your friends created, their stupid jokes, and the sound of their laughter.”
I plunged a cup into the water, pulling it back out after just a few seconds. The cup was tiny and couldn’t hold a substantial amount of water, yet even this minuscule amount made it heavier, even if it was barely noticeable.
“Even if everything is set for you to have a fun and enjoyable day, you still can’t shake off those ‘thoughts’. Whatever it may be—failing grades at school, a breakup with your significant other, or a bad home life—you can’t keep pushing these dark thoughts away. But you don’t want to ruin the mood, so you wait for the perfect time to tell your friends what’s on your mind.”
By this point, the watering can had been filled up to a third, thanks to my continuous efforts. It had gained some weight, but I wasn’t done yet. There was still a long way to go.
“The thing is, that time never comes. Your friends are busy with their own lives, focusing on graduating with good grades, dating their boyfriends and girlfriends, and dealing with their own issues. You try your best to wait, but the thoughts keep getting darker. Eventually, these thoughts play on your emotions, and you begin to harbor negative feelings towards yourself and your friends. You feel like a coward for not being able to simply speak to your friends. You also blame your friends because you think it’s their fault for not being caring enough for you to feel comfortable sharing with them. But, you know that’s a lie. You realize that this whole situation rests on your shoulders. You’re just trying to share the blame. Yet, you don’t want to carry all this self-inflicted blame, so your feelings of resentment toward your friends grow. This cycle of hatred keeps expanding until your rationality becomes too weak.”
The watering can was full now, so I handed Arthur my cups as I heaved it to my chest. Arthur yawned as he got up and started heading home, and I followed, marching right behind him.
“You don’t want to do it over the phone because you feel they’ll have an easier chance to come up with an excuse to get away. However, you also want to say this to all of them at once. Why? Perhaps out of a selfish need for attention, or maybe because you’re confident that they’re all your close friends and that they will surely listen. So, you decide to do this at the next hangout. The time comes, and you’re all having a blast at a friend’s house. They’re cracking jokes and retelling old stories, oblivious to your inner turmoil. You laugh with them, even as your mind teeters on the brink of shattering. Eventually, the mood dies down just enough for you to feel that your voice could be heard. So, you do it. You tell them your worries about school, your parents, your studies, money, feeling alone, and how you still don’t know what you’ll do in the future. You share how you struggle to figure out what you want in life.”
I peered down at the water in the can. It was still, with a periodic ripple, likely from my heartbeat. I kept the can close to my chest, which blocked my view ahead.
“The house becomes silent. Not a sound is audible, except for the TV in the background playing an old show you used to love. The sunlight gleaming through the window seems to vanish, obscuring the faces of your friends. And yet, you still know their expressions. They don’t show anger, nor empathy, and especially not sadness. Their faces look disturbed. Why? Because you ruined the day. The plan was for everyone to have a fun time, to forget about serious matters like school and getting a job. But here you are, burning it all down to dust. Perhaps you even broke an unspoken rule: hangouts like these were meant to help people take their minds off things. They were there to help everyone cool down and ignore their problems. But, of course, you broke that by speaking up. You know this, so you quickly apologize, hoping the day can return to normal. You wish they could just ignore this. You hope they can move on as if nothing happened. But, you know that can’t be. All you can hope for now is that you had never spoken, that it was all just an extreme form of daydreaming. Your friends uncomfortably return to whatever they were doing before your outburst, but it’s not the same. An air of uneasiness surrounds everyone, almost choking them. Everyone is too tense from what you said, causing the few remaining conversations to fizzle out until all you can hear is your own thoughts—the thoughts you had wished to share. The thoughts you believed would bring you closer to your friends are now the very ones that have ended up separating you even more.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Due to my obscured vision, I couldn’t see far ahead, which is why I tripped on a small rock. I fell sharply forward, and my watering can seemed to “leap” out of my grasp. I hit the ground hard, feeling the pebble and small rocks underneath scrape against my leg. The watering can suffered the same fate, crashing down and causing the water inside to erupt outward. Arthur heard the commotion and quickly turned around. He rushed over, saw my predicament, and helped me up while doing his best to comfort me. When he noticed the cut on my leg, he winced as he saw blood trickling down.
“This is nothing, Beric. You’re 1 now, okay? The Big 1, so something light like this shouldn’t hurt.” Arthur applied some saliva to his finger and carefully dabbed at my cut. When he decided it was enough, he picked up my watering can and offered me a piggyback ride, which I accepted. He hoisted me up, and I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck as we continued on.
“Days passed, and your friends tried their best to listen to you. Despite that awkward attempt before, they understood your desperation and wanted to help you. However, they couldn’t. After all, what could they even do to help you in the first place? You didn’t even know what you wanted. All you were suffering from was a strict household, an unclear future, and a lack of motivation. You weren’t truly suffering—at least, not on the same level as they were. They couldn’t help you when you didn’t even know why you needed help. But you knew you wanted it. You knew you needed it. So, you continued venting to them, hoping that one day they might understand... But that day never came. Your friends couldn’t wait forever; they had their own lives and problems—problems that were actually worth talking about compared to yours. You knew this, and you couldn’t stop them. Why stop them when they knew what they needed to do? When they had clear futures? When they had other people to talk to? So, it stopped. Your friends gave you empty words of regret and confidence, assuring you that you’d push through it, but you could see through their facade. They were tired of you, only saying those things to comfort themselves. Like they had done their best and that there was nothing else they could do.”
My hands clenched, fingers digging into Arthur’s shoulders.
“But that’s complete bullshit. Even if I can’t properly explain my troubles, even if I chose the wrong time and place, and even if their lives are more ‘important,’ why does the fault lie with me? Just because I spoke out, because I revealed my real thoughts, the real ‘me,’ instead of that damned facade of pretending everything was fine, somehow it’s my fault? Fuck that. They were my friends, and they had the nerve to leave me like that? To abandon me for new people? Did they befriend me just to have a source of amusement and then toss me aside when I couldn't keep up with them? The instant I show signs of weakness, they decide to leave, to not waste their so-called ‘valuable’ time on me?”
My fingers strained as I dug deeper into Arthur’s shoulders. He eventually felt the pain and asked, “Woah, Beric, mind easing up back there? It’s starting to hurt.”
I hadn’t even realized I was doing that, so I loosened my grip. I quickly thought of an excuse, zoning in on my cut. I audibly winced as I gently swayed my leg.
Arthur noticed. “It’s okay, buddy. I got you. Pain makes everybody oblivious to what they’re doing.”
I returned to resting my head on his back.
Beric, that wasn’t just a story, was it?
“......So what if it is? Does that matter? If I confirm it, what will change? Would it help anyone?”
…..I-
“If I do confirm that, what will you say? Will you tell me those same words my friends once told me? Those empty husks of words, hidden behind those bored, hollow faces. Will you try and fail miserably like them, using those redundant and unoriginal motivational speeches? Will you do that to help me feel better, or to make yourself feel good?”
……….
I thought so. Just like those “friends,” silent.
……….
“Do you see what I mean now?”
…What?
“I warned you that there was no point in telling you this. I tried to tell you that. But you didn’t listen. Now, our relationship—whatever it may have been before this—will be forever changed. Now that you know my real thoughts, I’m sure you’re weirded out, to whatever extent an AI like you can be. I’m positive this wasn’t what you were expecting. I’m certain you don’t know what to say. I’m confident you believe it was my fault that they couldn’t help me. That it was my own foolishness that started my downfall. Am I right?”
…Beric, I—
“Before you say that, are you sure it’s worth saying whatever you’re about to say?”
What?
“My friends tried everything to help me. They spent days, weeks, months, years—all to lift me up. They cheered me on, motivated me, helped me search for a calling in life, and tried to take my mind off things... but nothing worked. Nothing they did made a difference. No speech, no game, no hug, no heart-to-heart conversation—nothing. Which is why I ask you now: are you sure whatever you’re about to say will help me, or will it simply push us further apart, just like I did?”
...I don’t—I don’t know.
“......I’ll tell you this: there’s nothing you can do to help me. There’s nothing that will change my mind about certain things. The only thing you can do, and should do, is to help me become stronger. That’s all I ask. At best, maybe just keep being my loyal companion. Feel free to keep making jokes to help us both forget about this. If you do that, without asking me further of my past self, we’ll have no troubles whatsoever.”
……Why? Why do you resent sharing information of your past self, or rather, your true self?
“.....I simply don’t enjoy remembering those times.”
……I see. I’m sorry for…..forcing you to relive them.
As we walked, I noticed a tree covered in vines. I nudged Arthur and pointed in its direction. He followed my finger and looked up at the tree.
“.....A tree? What about it?”
I made a gesture, pulling back and letting go of an imaginary object. Arthur's eyes widened in realization.
“A slingshot? But why mention that now...?” He trailed off, deep in thought. Then he noticed the vines. “Oh, do you want me to pick some vines to make a slingshot for you?”
I nodded vigorously.
“Got it. Though it’ll be difficult to carry everything.” Arthur mumbled as he walked over to the tree. He set the watering can down and began tearing off some vines.
I then extended my hand.
“Do you want to carry it?” Arthur asked.
I waved my hand in confirmation. He obliged, handing me the vines while he picked up the watering can, and we continued on our way home.
I will accept your request. I will do everything in my power to assist you in the journey of becoming stronger, while also not pushing my boundaries and intruding in on your personal thoughts.
“That’s good to hear……..Though, I guess there is one thing I should mention.”
What is it?
“With everything said, there was one thing I gained from losing my friends.”
What was it?
“The realization that seeking true friendship is dangerous and futile. At best, friends are meant to provide an escape from reality, to share in laughter over their silly jokes. They can help us laugh away our dark thoughts, but that’s all. Striving for a genuine connection will only lead to pain. When they eventually depart from our lives, the hurt will be only magnified if you foolishly see them as true friends. This understanding helped me realize something crucial: friends have too much control over your emotions. When they hang out with you, joy and excitement are inevitable. When they share their struggles, you can’t help but feel saddened and empathetic. If someone insults them, you feel a surge of anger. But when they become busy and begin to leave you alone, that loneliness settles in... and when they eventually leave your life, it feels like a part of you dies. For someone like me, who craves freedom, friends can become nothing more than controlling restrictions. I can’t let some absurd concept like friends distract me from my goal.”
Arthur suddenly groaned and held up the watering can. “Oh no. Is that a hole?”
From what I could see, there was indeed a hole in the can I had dropped.
Arthur glanced back at me. “Don’t worry, I’m not blaming you for this. If needed, I’ll just take the blame, okay?” He smiled brightly.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Arthur turned back to the front, humming a tune I remembered hearing Mom hum once before.
I looked back at the hole. Most likely, it had appeared due to my fall………but was that really the case? Was there a chance that the hole had always existed, initially tiny but growing steadily over time until it forever changed the watering can?......Or maybe, if the hole was always there, it had finally become big enough to reveal the watering can’s true form?