Page 94 - KCN 2020

The digital clock beeped, announcing that it was 11pm. I reluctantly climbed into my bed, knowingly head-
ing towards a nightmare instead of the dreamless slumber I craved for.

I opened my eyes to my personal purgatory. After hours of tossing and turning in bed, my mind finally
lost the battle against sleep, trapping me in this horrific dreamland. I saw Shelby crying in her old bed, her tears
rolling down her rosy cheeks. My parents came out of their separate rooms, grumpier than usual because of my sis-
ter’s incessant wailing. Poor little Shelby’s mental disability inhibited her ability to comprehend anything they said
during their relentless scolding session. My parents were like robots, their attitude never changing towards my sister.
Sending her to an orphanage was out of the question; they’d become apart of the neighbourhood gossip, something
they avoided like the plague. Melancholy washed over me. I was starting to feel that he was slowly being freed from
his cage. Knowing that his presence would result in my swift demise, I left the room, trying to maintain my expres-
sionless mask.

I ran to my room. Sometimes, running in my dreams would leave me thrilled, but I’m always reminded of
why I shouldn’t be. No matter how fast I ran, no matter how exhilarated I felt, I would never be able to escape from
him. Stacks of exam papers were piled up on my desk, with big 80’s or 90’s written on every one of them. The sub-
jects and questions were blurry; my mind wasn’t clear enough to make out the details. This was how I pleased my
parents. It worked at first, but soon my attempts at pleasing them were futile. Every time I endured their repeated
lectures, I was reminded of the stressful nights burning the midnight oil, just to meet their expectations. My sister
wasn’t perfect; did that mean that I had to be? This saddened me, and I sensed that he had finally managed to break
free. My shadow had a life of its own.

I ran into the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. The reflection of the young boy looking back at
me slowly started changing into a monster.
Fighting It was me. Another me. He walked out of the mirror world, swaying sideways while approaching me, tears

Depression flowing down his face like two small waterfalls, soaking his shirt. He was holding a weird-looking knife, stained
with blood. Blood flowed from his chest, leaving red liquid in his tracks. “Why would you hurt yourself?” I asked,
trembling.

“Physical pain is much easier to endure, don’t you think?” He replied sorrowfully. “I tried to transform the
hurt into physical pain, but no matter what I tried, the pain still remained.” He came closer, his melancholic aura
Chia Yu Jun taking over my train of thought. The expressionless mask I had managed to perfect was slipping off and I slowly
began to forget my reason to live. I knew it wouldn’t be long until I forgot completely.

He charged at me, aiming his knife at my throat. My clenched fist drove him into the wall. The blood from his
head dyed his hair a shade of crimson, but he was unfazed. He charged again, the tip of his knife grazing my throat.
A sharp pain tore at my heart. The sad times I had been through were suddenly too clear in my mind, weakening my
willpower. He took this chance to plunge his knife straight into my chest, piercing my heart.

Blood soaked through my shirt, leaving me in something I’d never imagined: more pain. What was I fight-
ing for? The aching had completely conquered my mind, and with every stab, I looked increasingly similar to him.
Why endure all this when I could escape it so easily? I could feel my mask fading; the lie that I was fine slipping off
my face. I closed my eyes, waiting for the final blow.

“Hey man, want to hang out this Saturday?” A voice message interrupted my slumber. He turned to ash, and
I woke up in reality with no injuries on my body, the steady, quick pumps of my heart slowing down into relaxed,
rhythmic beats. I found my reason again.
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