The World Of Ideal Humans

Chapter Three: Charred

Once I heard this preposterously loud bang, I quickly jumped to my feet. I had forgotten what direction the sound came from, but decided to run upstairs and check on Bastian. I opened the attic door slowly, expecting to see a gory scene. That is not what I saw, however, I saw Bastian sitting on the ground with his legs crossed over each other looking at something intently on the floor. "Bastian, are you ok?!" I urgently questioned. "Yes I'm fine, but try to be quiet. There's someone downstairs. I can see them through the floorboards" he responded. I was shocked, and I tiptoed downstairs to see who it was, but not before getting out a hard object from my room to protect myself with. I saw the intruder in the kitchen, fiddling around with the fridge and searching through the cupboards. I didn't know what to do, and my parents seemed to either not care or sleep through it. I ran to their room to wake them up, hoping I wouldn't make any loud noise in the process. I woke them up and told them about the intruder. When hearing this, both of them rushed downstairs to fight them off. I followed them into the kitchen, but to my surprise, the intruder was gone. The kitchen was spick and span, with it looking like nothing had happened. It's almost as if I had just imagined the whole ordeal. But that can't be true, because Bastian told me he saw the intruder as well. Once my parents realized that there was no intruder, I saw the look of anger on my dad's face. The look of disappointment on my mom's. My dad turned to me, raised his hand, and I flinched subconsciously, purely out of habit. He stopped in his tracks, slowly lowered his hand and a look of guilt and sorrow struck his face like a lightning bolt. I stopped trying to protect myself, and instead rushed to my room in pure embarrassment. My parents walked into their room, in complete silence. I heard them shut the door and start talking. My mom was doing most of the talking, and at one point she got so mad she started screaming at him. She never screams. Never. After around an hour, I heard both of them come into my room, so I turned off my lamp and got under my blankets. My dad came right up to my bed and I heard my mom leave, closing the door softly behind her. I kept on pretending to sleep, when I heard my dad start talking in a sorrowful tone. He apologized for everything he has done to me that he shouldn't have. "Noro, I'm so sorry for this. When I saw you flinch, I knew I had done something wrong in the past and today, even. I've hurt you in ways I never realized until now. I know you're sleeping, but I will tell you the same thing in the morning. I love you, and unfortunately you've never heard that from me before. Trust me Noro, if you somehow hear this in your dream...I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry, with all of my heart,". He started sobbing, something I had never seen him do before. After he had been crying for a while, my mom came in and told him to come into their room. They left my room, and I sat up in my bed. I sat there for a long time, until my lamp flashed. I knew this meant something was wrong with Bastian, so I tiredly walked upstairs to check up on him. I opened the door, and he was just sleeping on his inflatable mattress. I looked around for anything that might have hit the lamp, and I noticed that his foot was on it. It was shaking vigorously, causing both his and my lamp to flash rapidly. I moved the lamp from under his foot, and went back downstairs. I was so exhausted, and had a crippling migraine from the stressful day. Once I eventually drifted off into sleep, I had the worst nightmare of my entire life. I was climbing the tree I had seen, and when I got to the top, I stopped in my tracks for some reason. It was as if I was looking down upon myself, to where I had no control. I had a backpack on, and in the backpack was a long, rough rope. It had split ends, and it felt like the sound of nails on a chalkboard. I had a nauseous feeling as I was looking at myself from above. I started to tie the rope in a mysterious fashion. I didn't know what shape it was until I finished. I couldn't believe what I was about to do. I threw the rope over a long tree branch, and tied a knot high enough to where my feet wouldn't touch the ground. I proceeded to take out gasoline and a match. I climbed higher up in the tree, and poured down gallons of gasoline from the top of the tree until it was fully covered. After I was satisfied with that, I climbed down to where the rope was. I was screaming at myself to stop, but I didn't hear the screams. I took out the match and matchbox, and looked at it for a bit. Tears started to sink down my face, and landed on the tree bark. The tree suddenly set on fire, as if my tear was the flame. At this point, I saw the rope for the last time. It was just hanging in midair, and soon enough; so was I. I had to watch as I hung there, lifeless, my body going up in flames from my tears. I suddenly woke up and felt extreme pain all over me and especially around my neck. I got out of bed, and rushed to my bathroom to check for injuries or bruises. I found a large bruise around my neck, and scarring all over my body. I was horrified. Was this a dream? I examined myself in the mirror for over 20 minutes, trying to figure out what caused it. "It's just a coincidence," I told myself. There was no way this could be real. But when I touched the scars or bruises in any way, I would feel a jolt of pain. I woke up my mom, but as it was dark, she saw nothing but a silhouette. I told her what I saw on myself, and my mom hesitantly got out of bed to check. Once she stepped out of her room into the light, she saw me standing there. I had exposed most of my skin to show her the scarring, and lifted my head up to show the distinctly round bruise around my neck. It was faintly yellowish on the outside, with dark, piercing purple layered on top of it. Finally, there was a faint line of dark red laying on top of the purple. It looked as if they were all mixed together faintly into a large, jagged, rough looking bruise that was soft and sensitive to the touch. Some parts of the bruise looked almost blackened, as if I was a piece of charcoal thrown on to a burning hot, ashy fire, covered in smoke. That wasn't the case, at least with my physical state. My mind was filled with that same smoke. That same smoke that made me feel so charred and broken, torn to pieces, like I was worthless. Hung up like a rag, but no one else could see it. They refused to see it. It was too unbelievable for them, too fantasy-like. Too fake. It was the truth from my perspective, but from my mom's perspective, it was a lie. From my dad's perspective, it was the same. My mom looked at me up and down, turned me around, looked at my neck, and even poked and prodded at me. It hurt me, but I couldn't act weak in front of her. She turned me back around to face her, and the look on her face said everything I needed to know. She didn't see it. She didn't see the bruise. She didn't see the scars. I looked down, my body looking more charred than it was before. I went to my bathroom, and as I expected, my bruise had gotten worse. I rushed out of my bathroom to try to tell my mom it wasn't a joke. She didn't say a word to me and just stared at me like I was a homeless puppy seeking attention. I dropped to the floor on my hands and knees in front of her, sobbing, and begging for the silence to be broken. When she continued to be silent, I sat up and looked at her in the eyes. Her head suddenly tilted down slightly, like she was looking at a specific part of me. I looked down, following her gaze, and saw a horrifying sight. My hands were slowly dissolving into midair. I was turning into ash, pure dust. I had become charcoal, and I was getting burnt from the inside out. It didn't hurt, it felt freeing in fact. It felt almost as if I was a baby dove that finally learned how to fly. As I slowly disintegrated into the air, I reached out to my mom. The last thing I saw was her stone cold face, no expression, with a single tear dripping down her cheek. I watched it fall to the floor until my vision went black. My mind had incinerated me from the inside out, until I was left by myself in the dark, empty vacuum of inexistence. I couldn't feel anymore. I couldn't see anymore. I couldn't smell anymore. I couldn't hear anymore.  I couldn't move anymore. I couldn't think anymore. I was a complete pile of nothingness. Forgotten, not cared for, scared, afraid. Worst of all; alone.