I hate people. It can't be said that I hate someone personally, but rather than humans in...
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- Location
- secret base
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I hate people. It can't be said that I hate someone personally, but rather than humans in general are something I find abhorrent. In plain and simple words, I'm a loner and as a loner, here is my little greetings towards all representatives of loner-kind across the world: greetings and farewell to you, whom I don't know and don't wish to know.
I said these words with a mixed sense of relief and washed-out sorrow, as if my favorite piece of clothing that became too small for me with time was thorn or the series I favored very much came to an end because of poor ratings and greedy executives. I felt those kinds of feelings, while standing at the bridge in the middle of nowhere, preparing to jump.
If you feel surprised, then do not. I'm the kind of a person allergic to people. I hate them, I despise them. I can feel their eyes on my back, feel their sneering with my skin, understand what kind of twisted beings they are. In the first place, the fact that I am human - the realization that I wasn't that different from them - brought me only despair.
I looked at my watch: time was precisely 12:59. I knew this fact because I mentally prepared myself from jumping from this bridge precisely at one o'clock, not a minute earlier or later. I'm quite a meticulous person, after all - and this fact brought me sorrow, too, since not many people shared this trait of mine.
I sighed. It truly was a beautiful day: the foolishly blue sky turned gray and the falsely optimistic sun was hidden by heavy, metal-like clouds. If today's news were correct, it would even rain soon. It was a beautiful day for a tragic end.
"It's a horrible day for a picnic! I am totally going to have my lunch ruined by the rain," somebody's dejected voice sounded next to me. It was definitely a girl - or somebody who sounded like a girl - and a peachy, energetic kind of a girl, too.
[ ] I ignored whoever there was. It would be a pain to socialize with someone, especially now. I will simply wait for this minute to finally pass. I'm bad at talking, after all.
[ ] "It's not a good place for a picnic," I felt my mouth involuntary move, creating words I never meant to say. I didn't want to speak with anyone else, yet I replied to this person next to me. I wonder why.
[ ] "I-Isn't this place totally unfit for a picnic?! It's a bridge, for goodness sake!" I shouted, letting my deeply buried thoughts free out of blue. It was rather… unexpected. I normally don't talk, much less shout. Is this some kind of a sickness?
I gritted my teeth, looking at my watch again, checking time that still remained at the same point. It was 12:59 - not a second passed since the last time, even though I was sure a minute had passed already.
And then, that mysterious "picnic girl" to my right opened her mouth.
"Name: [Insert Name.]
Gender: [Insert Gender.]
Occupation: [Student / Jobless / White Collar]
Date of Birth: [Insert Date of Birth]"
I was surprised. I was shocked because those little tidbits of information were about me, completely about me. In fact, rather than being simply about me, I felt like the moment she said those words, instead of being about me precisely from the start, those words changed to accommodate the person in question - me.
It was a strange experience, a bizarre one, even though no stands or stone masks were involved. I felt like adding some shady reference this time, but in truth, I was a but horrified. I had a stalker? I, a completely insignificant person, the country's champion in insignificance, was considered interesting enough to be a stalker's person of interest.
It was a despairing thought.
"I know that having a stalker might be a bit strange, but if this makes it better, you aren't the only person I spy upon. If anything, you always were an exemplary target, doing nothing of great importance, always remaining still and reliable, to this very moment."
I didn't feel better… at all. It only made me more paranoid. In fact, can a person be considered paranoid, if they are correct about being watched daily. If anything, any sense of self-importance I might have felt from this fact was squashed the moment, the "picnic girl" opened her mouth.
"I'm sorry for hurting your feeling, then."
I didn't remember ever opening my mouth this time. I had no habit of talking to myself. I had no habit of talking in general, so how in the world was she able to discern what I was thinking.
"I know because I know. If this makes you feel better, that's because I can read minds. And I want you to answer my question, if you don't mind."
I wanted to rebuke her, but my tongue refused to move. I was unable to tell her not to bother me, which was somewhat ironic: I never had enough guts to talk-back to anyone before.
"I want to know about your childhood. In particular, I want to know about your parents."
[ ] "I have both. I never felt very close to them, and they never attempted to understand me either. If anything, rather than a family, we were more of a group of close acquaintances, but not friends."
[ ] "I have my father / mother. I knew only them. I always looked at a family with the complete set of parents with a sense of longing and misery. I often wondered what it was like to have both parents, and what a dinner shared by a family really felt like."
[ ] "I don't have them. I'm not sure whether this is sad or not since I lived my whole life like this. If anything, I sometimes thought that having somebody waiting for you back at home would be kind of nice."
"It's quite enough. As for my next question, what is your perfect feels like?"
[ ] "It's a quiet place, the kind where no sounds, no distractions exist. In this world, I can finally feel at peace, in complete silence."
[ ] "It feels like a place where I can always move at my own pace. I'm free to run or to remain still. I am… free of boundaries, I think."
[ ] "It's a formless, empty place. It's where no useless and trivial things ever exist. I can have my order, my perfect way of living only in a place like that."
[ ] Write-In.
I checked my watch: the time was one o'clock.
[ ] Jump.
[ ] Stay.
Author's Note: I know this all might seem very strange, odd or confusing to you, but hear me out, true believers, for I'm trying to accomplish an experiment here. And with time, I believe the whole picture would grow clear. I hope.
I said these words with a mixed sense of relief and washed-out sorrow, as if my favorite piece of clothing that became too small for me with time was thorn or the series I favored very much came to an end because of poor ratings and greedy executives. I felt those kinds of feelings, while standing at the bridge in the middle of nowhere, preparing to jump.
If you feel surprised, then do not. I'm the kind of a person allergic to people. I hate them, I despise them. I can feel their eyes on my back, feel their sneering with my skin, understand what kind of twisted beings they are. In the first place, the fact that I am human - the realization that I wasn't that different from them - brought me only despair.
I looked at my watch: time was precisely 12:59. I knew this fact because I mentally prepared myself from jumping from this bridge precisely at one o'clock, not a minute earlier or later. I'm quite a meticulous person, after all - and this fact brought me sorrow, too, since not many people shared this trait of mine.
I sighed. It truly was a beautiful day: the foolishly blue sky turned gray and the falsely optimistic sun was hidden by heavy, metal-like clouds. If today's news were correct, it would even rain soon. It was a beautiful day for a tragic end.
"It's a horrible day for a picnic! I am totally going to have my lunch ruined by the rain," somebody's dejected voice sounded next to me. It was definitely a girl - or somebody who sounded like a girl - and a peachy, energetic kind of a girl, too.
[ ] I ignored whoever there was. It would be a pain to socialize with someone, especially now. I will simply wait for this minute to finally pass. I'm bad at talking, after all.
[ ] "It's not a good place for a picnic," I felt my mouth involuntary move, creating words I never meant to say. I didn't want to speak with anyone else, yet I replied to this person next to me. I wonder why.
[ ] "I-Isn't this place totally unfit for a picnic?! It's a bridge, for goodness sake!" I shouted, letting my deeply buried thoughts free out of blue. It was rather… unexpected. I normally don't talk, much less shout. Is this some kind of a sickness?
I gritted my teeth, looking at my watch again, checking time that still remained at the same point. It was 12:59 - not a second passed since the last time, even though I was sure a minute had passed already.
And then, that mysterious "picnic girl" to my right opened her mouth.
"Name: [Insert Name.]
Gender: [Insert Gender.]
Occupation: [Student / Jobless / White Collar]
Date of Birth: [Insert Date of Birth]"
I was surprised. I was shocked because those little tidbits of information were about me, completely about me. In fact, rather than being simply about me, I felt like the moment she said those words, instead of being about me precisely from the start, those words changed to accommodate the person in question - me.
It was a strange experience, a bizarre one, even though no stands or stone masks were involved. I felt like adding some shady reference this time, but in truth, I was a but horrified. I had a stalker? I, a completely insignificant person, the country's champion in insignificance, was considered interesting enough to be a stalker's person of interest.
It was a despairing thought.
"I know that having a stalker might be a bit strange, but if this makes it better, you aren't the only person I spy upon. If anything, you always were an exemplary target, doing nothing of great importance, always remaining still and reliable, to this very moment."
I didn't feel better… at all. It only made me more paranoid. In fact, can a person be considered paranoid, if they are correct about being watched daily. If anything, any sense of self-importance I might have felt from this fact was squashed the moment, the "picnic girl" opened her mouth.
"I'm sorry for hurting your feeling, then."
I didn't remember ever opening my mouth this time. I had no habit of talking to myself. I had no habit of talking in general, so how in the world was she able to discern what I was thinking.
"I know because I know. If this makes you feel better, that's because I can read minds. And I want you to answer my question, if you don't mind."
I wanted to rebuke her, but my tongue refused to move. I was unable to tell her not to bother me, which was somewhat ironic: I never had enough guts to talk-back to anyone before.
"I want to know about your childhood. In particular, I want to know about your parents."
[ ] "I have both. I never felt very close to them, and they never attempted to understand me either. If anything, rather than a family, we were more of a group of close acquaintances, but not friends."
[ ] "I have my father / mother. I knew only them. I always looked at a family with the complete set of parents with a sense of longing and misery. I often wondered what it was like to have both parents, and what a dinner shared by a family really felt like."
[ ] "I don't have them. I'm not sure whether this is sad or not since I lived my whole life like this. If anything, I sometimes thought that having somebody waiting for you back at home would be kind of nice."
"It's quite enough. As for my next question, what is your perfect feels like?"
[ ] "It's a quiet place, the kind where no sounds, no distractions exist. In this world, I can finally feel at peace, in complete silence."
[ ] "It feels like a place where I can always move at my own pace. I'm free to run or to remain still. I am… free of boundaries, I think."
[ ] "It's a formless, empty place. It's where no useless and trivial things ever exist. I can have my order, my perfect way of living only in a place like that."
[ ] Write-In.
I checked my watch: the time was one o'clock.
[ ] Jump.
[ ] Stay.
Author's Note: I know this all might seem very strange, odd or confusing to you, but hear me out, true believers, for I'm trying to accomplish an experiment here. And with time, I believe the whole picture would grow clear. I hope.
- Location
- St. Petersburg
[X] Jean François
[X] Gender: Male
[X] Student
[X] Date of Birth: 22 Sep 1998
[X] I ignored whoever there was. It would be a pain to socialize with someone, especially now. I will simply wait for this minute to finally pass. I'm bad at talking, after all.
[X] "I don't have them. I'm not sure whether this is sad or not since I lived my whole life like this. If anything, I sometimes thought that having somebody waiting for you back at home would be kind of nice."
[X] "It's a formless, empty place. It's where no useless and trivial things ever exist. I can have my order, my perfect way of living only in a place like that."
[X] Jump.
[X] Gender: Male
[X] Student
[X] Date of Birth: 22 Sep 1998
[X] I ignored whoever there was. It would be a pain to socialize with someone, especially now. I will simply wait for this minute to finally pass. I'm bad at talking, after all.
[X] "I don't have them. I'm not sure whether this is sad or not since I lived my whole life like this. If anything, I sometimes thought that having somebody waiting for you back at home would be kind of nice."
[X] "It's a formless, empty place. It's where no useless and trivial things ever exist. I can have my order, my perfect way of living only in a place like that."
[X] Jump.
[X] I ignored whoever there was. It would be a pain to socialize with someone, especially now. I will simply wait for this minute to finally pass. I'm bad at talking, after all.
[X] Jean François
[X] Gender: Male
[X] Student
[X] Date of Birth: 22 Sep 1998
[X] "I have both. I never felt very close to them, and they never attempted to understand me either. If anything, rather than a family, we were more of a group of close acquaintances, but not friends."
[X] "It feels like a place where I can always move at my own pace. I'm free to run or to remain still. I am… free of boundaries, I think."
[X] Jump.
[X] Jean François
[X] Gender: Male
[X] Student
[X] Date of Birth: 22 Sep 1998
[X] "I have both. I never felt very close to them, and they never attempted to understand me either. If anything, rather than a family, we were more of a group of close acquaintances, but not friends."
[X] "It feels like a place where I can always move at my own pace. I'm free to run or to remain still. I am… free of boundaries, I think."
[X] Jump.
- Location
- United States
[X] Jean François
[X] Gender: Male
[X] Student
[X] Date of Birth: 22 Sep 1998
[X] I ignored whoever there was. It would be a pain to socialize with someone, especially now. I will simply wait for this minute to finally pass. I'm bad at talking, after all.
[X] "I don't have them. I'm not sure whether this is sad or not since I lived my whole life like this. If anything, I sometimes thought that having somebody waiting for you back at home would be kind of nice."
[X] "It's a formless, empty place. It's where no useless and trivial things ever exist. I can have my order, my perfect way of living only in a place like that."
[X] Jump.
[X] Gender: Male
[X] Student
[X] Date of Birth: 22 Sep 1998
[X] I ignored whoever there was. It would be a pain to socialize with someone, especially now. I will simply wait for this minute to finally pass. I'm bad at talking, after all.
[X] "I don't have them. I'm not sure whether this is sad or not since I lived my whole life like this. If anything, I sometimes thought that having somebody waiting for you back at home would be kind of nice."
[X] "It's a formless, empty place. It's where no useless and trivial things ever exist. I can have my order, my perfect way of living only in a place like that."
[X] Jump.
[X] Jean François
[X] Gender: Female
[X] Student
[X] Date of Birth: 22 Sep 1998
[X] I ignored whoever there was. It would be a pain to socialize with someone, especially now. I will simply wait for this minute to finally pass. I'm bad at talking, after all.
[X] "I don't have them. I'm not sure whether this is sad or not since I lived my whole life like this. If anything, I sometimes thought that having somebody waiting for you back at home would be kind of nice."
[X] "It's a formless, empty place. It's where no useless and trivial things ever exist. I can have my order, my perfect way of living only in a place like that."
[X] Jump.
[X] Gender: Female
[X] Student
[X] Date of Birth: 22 Sep 1998
[X] I ignored whoever there was. It would be a pain to socialize with someone, especially now. I will simply wait for this minute to finally pass. I'm bad at talking, after all.
[X] "I don't have them. I'm not sure whether this is sad or not since I lived my whole life like this. If anything, I sometimes thought that having somebody waiting for you back at home would be kind of nice."
[X] "It's a formless, empty place. It's where no useless and trivial things ever exist. I can have my order, my perfect way of living only in a place like that."
[X] Jump.
- Location
- secret base
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I had enough of this person. Or, rather being fed up with that girl in particular, I grew tired of people in general. Instead of waiting for her to say something, I jumped from the bridge, waiting for my body to hit the surface of the water.
"About time to put an end to this sob story," I said coldly, and closed my eyes.
I felt the coldness envelop me. Meeting it like an old friend head-on, I wondered if I was or something. Perhaps, even in my death, I was too apathetic to care, even about myself.
"This won't do, young man. This won't do at all," a woman's voice replied somewhere next to me, right before I lost my consciousness. "I can't let go of such a precious specimen."
Next day, 6 a.m.
I opened my eyes. In a daze, trying to understand what was happening, I rose from my bed with a groan, feeling my head ready to burst from the tinniest of movements. I was confused and somewhat unsure what was the reality and what was a dream.
Like a very realistic dream.
Like a very unrealistic reality.
I idly pondered which was the correct answer.
I brushed off my previous experience as a trick of imagination and went to the kitchen, my stomach was almost empty. My apartments were, for the lack of better words, empty. Devoted of a personal touch.
No photographs of me or my family. No personal belongings or any signs of my non-existent hobbies. Not even a single book on my bookshelf. I lived my life with no attachments, and the place where I lived was the perfect reflection of this mindset.
I lived my life in such a way so no one will notice if I disappear one day. I slowly got pulled into the same old routine, making my breakfast with a usual frown, while listening to the news on the radio with only a small part of my attention.
"… the police department strongly advices the citizens to stay at home or move in groups. As you may know, recent outbreak of serial kidnappings…"
It wasn't much. I listened to the news, but most of them were either worthless or something out of the realm of fantasy. Life, unlike fiction, was boring and uneventful, always remaining static.
"It's going to rain today, too," I said to myself, preparing my umbrella. Strange that it was so dry, considering the downpour that happened yesterday. Come to think of this, I can't remember bringing this umbrella with me, even though I had no soaked clothes at home.
Well, no reason to worry about this now. Perhaps, that simply was my imagination. I put on my school uniform and glanced at myself in the body-length mirror. A pair of dark, tired eyes stared back at me.
"Another day, huh?"
Certainly, I wasn't in high spirits today. Scratch that, I wasn't in high spirits period. Even trying to smile strained my face, so I mainly walked around with completely expressionless. Like a completely blank slate.
I wasn't more of an automatic machine pretending to be a human that a genuine article. I drifted through every day. Maybe I should just put this all to an end. I often had such pessimistic thoughts nowadays, with yesterday being even worse than usual. And the reason was the date.
I looked at the tiny calendar near my wardrobe.
September, 23rd.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. To me, every day was a chore.
"Oh my, what a dark outlook you have, young man. Well, the same mindset was the reason you were chosen. It seems birds of a feather do flock together. In this case, the birds certainly were a pair of white crows."
I gaped at a girl sitting on my windowsill, the harsh autumn air making her long hair flail wildly.
"Good morning," she cheerfully saluted. "It's nice to meet you. Again."
For your information, my apartments were located on the fifth floor.
[] Greet her as well.
[] There was a door.
[] Who the hell are you?
[] Remain silent.
"About time to put an end to this sob story," I said coldly, and closed my eyes.
I felt the coldness envelop me. Meeting it like an old friend head-on, I wondered if I was or something. Perhaps, even in my death, I was too apathetic to care, even about myself.
"This won't do, young man. This won't do at all," a woman's voice replied somewhere next to me, right before I lost my consciousness. "I can't let go of such a precious specimen."
Next day, 6 a.m.
I opened my eyes. In a daze, trying to understand what was happening, I rose from my bed with a groan, feeling my head ready to burst from the tinniest of movements. I was confused and somewhat unsure what was the reality and what was a dream.
Like a very realistic dream.
Like a very unrealistic reality.
I idly pondered which was the correct answer.
I brushed off my previous experience as a trick of imagination and went to the kitchen, my stomach was almost empty. My apartments were, for the lack of better words, empty. Devoted of a personal touch.
No photographs of me or my family. No personal belongings or any signs of my non-existent hobbies. Not even a single book on my bookshelf. I lived my life with no attachments, and the place where I lived was the perfect reflection of this mindset.
I lived my life in such a way so no one will notice if I disappear one day. I slowly got pulled into the same old routine, making my breakfast with a usual frown, while listening to the news on the radio with only a small part of my attention.
"… the police department strongly advices the citizens to stay at home or move in groups. As you may know, recent outbreak of serial kidnappings…"
It wasn't much. I listened to the news, but most of them were either worthless or something out of the realm of fantasy. Life, unlike fiction, was boring and uneventful, always remaining static.
"It's going to rain today, too," I said to myself, preparing my umbrella. Strange that it was so dry, considering the downpour that happened yesterday. Come to think of this, I can't remember bringing this umbrella with me, even though I had no soaked clothes at home.
Well, no reason to worry about this now. Perhaps, that simply was my imagination. I put on my school uniform and glanced at myself in the body-length mirror. A pair of dark, tired eyes stared back at me.
"Another day, huh?"
Certainly, I wasn't in high spirits today. Scratch that, I wasn't in high spirits period. Even trying to smile strained my face, so I mainly walked around with completely expressionless. Like a completely blank slate.
I wasn't more of an automatic machine pretending to be a human that a genuine article. I drifted through every day. Maybe I should just put this all to an end. I often had such pessimistic thoughts nowadays, with yesterday being even worse than usual. And the reason was the date.
I looked at the tiny calendar near my wardrobe.
September, 23rd.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. To me, every day was a chore.
"Oh my, what a dark outlook you have, young man. Well, the same mindset was the reason you were chosen. It seems birds of a feather do flock together. In this case, the birds certainly were a pair of white crows."
I gaped at a girl sitting on my windowsill, the harsh autumn air making her long hair flail wildly.
"Good morning," she cheerfully saluted. "It's nice to meet you. Again."
For your information, my apartments were located on the fifth floor.
[] Greet her as well.
[] There was a door.
[] Who the hell are you?
[] Remain silent.
