I grew up having literally anything a human would possibly want.
They warned me. "Son, it'll take a toll on you one day." And I would shrug their irrelevant, small-minded banter away because I didn't know the pain of not being able to attain something...or someone.
Most people would look at me and scoff — what could this guy possibly know about the struggles that humanity faces? And while I might be in no position to answer that question, I have seen and done things that most people would only read about.
My memories are a blur, but from time to time, a particular feeling gushes through my body. Do you know what I'm talking about?
That familiar pain in the pit of the stomach.
An unrecognizable pulse in the throat.
A bizarre weightlessness of the body, no, of the soul.
Sometimes, I would cry when I feel it.
Was this feeling attached to something traumatic? I would never know. But I didn't want to know either.
I had everything I've ever wanted and I would get it with a snap of my fingers.
Snap. "I want to watch a movie."
Several footsteps would scurry through the doorstep of this massive mansion, which I called my home.
A face of a tired, weather-beaten butler would appear, "Yes, Master Carlton? What would you like to watch today?"
"Just put something interesting."
"Yes Master, I shall pick out one of the biggest blockbusters right away! Would you like to eat something? Or maybe...read something while I'm at it?"
"Yes, I'm in a mood for some fries today."
"Coming right away, Sir."
And the butler would jog away, hoping to get done with his job as quickly as possible so he wouldn't anger me.
I thought that he must have hurt his right feet somewhere. Maybe he was limping. But again, what was the need to think about issues I wouldn't have noticed anyway?
How would I know?
How would I know what the poor go through?
I lived my days never wanting to do anything, and I think that's just because I could do anything I wanted.
And somehow that bored me.
And most of the time, that boredom was followed by the same miserable feeling — like I remembered something and my brain just didn't want to think about it, so I only felt it.
Snap. "What the hell is taking you so long?!"
"I'm deeply sorry, Sir! I...I...burned my hand on the..."
But would I have cared to listen to the entire statement? No. I was arrogant enough to shut him up the instant he tried to reason his mistake.
It was their job to serve me.
Some weary days, the snap of my own fingers would scare me. I knew of the power I possessed, the command I had over the hundreds of guards and butlers that worked for me.
And maybe, just maybe, I was afraid to not be able to feel that power anymore?
But again, I wouldn't think about that.
Because I didn't care.
I had everything I ever wanted.
I didn't need anyone to tell me what to do, I didn't need anyone to help me; I had hundreds of people who would kill for me anytime. I didn't need to appreciate anybody's existence to be able to live a certain way.
I could go around insulting and hurting people and their pain wouldn't even change anything in my life.
But why do I hurt people so much?
Why do I enjoy it like a sport?
Is it because I want to relieve the pain in my heart?
Why would I even feel pain? I had everything.
Do you know what they say?
When a butterfly flaps its wing somewhere in the world, it can increase the chances of a hurricane?
These bizarre miracles never made sense to me but that was until I witnessed it myself.
It was that one fateful day on a bright, autumn Sunday.
It happened when I was only five-year-old.
I was gleefully hopping down the sidewalk towards my very much beloved playground, clutching my favorite ice cream in my hands.
The leaves danced from branch to ground, each a colorful flag without strings or pole, free to fly. I felt the breeze, rich with the aroma of the earth. It was the last time I appreciated nature as the holder of the mighty creatures that it was sheltering.
A muffled sob.
It wasn't me. It came from a dome-like structure in corner of the playground.
I jogged away from the screaming and playing kids, all the way over to the dome. Then I bent my knees and looked under it.
A deep auburn-haired girl was sitting cross-legged inside the dome. She looked as young as me.
She was crying.
I smiled when I looked at her, but she wouldn't return the smile. Why wouldn't she return the smile? My guards and butlers always returned smiles.
Crawling into the dome, I sat beside her.
I muttered, licking my ice cream and savoring its sweetness. "I like your hair"
I really did.
Her hair was red but not too red, it was orange too but not too orange. It was auburn. Like the massive trees lining the playground, shedding their auburn leaves as if they were shedding tears, just like this girl.
"Why are you crying?"
Her hands wiped the tears from her face and her deep blue eyes came into view, "I lost my teddy."
"Oh, it's okay," Five-year-old me answered immediately, trying my best to soothe her, "I'll help you find it!"
The girl's face lit up with happiness. "Really? Thank you!" And then her gaze directed towards my ice cream. "Is that vanilla?"
The girl looked at me like she wanted it, but I had never shared my property with anyone. It was mine. No one had the right to have what was mine.
But this girl pleaded through her eyes and I wanted to help her. What was this I felt? I felt...pity, I guess?
The new emotion of feeling bad for someone dominated my thoughts, and the young me extended my hand towards her. "Here, you can have it! I'll buy another one."
I stared powerlessly as she devoured my treat in front of me, and I couldn't help but smile at her urgency.
I just helped someone, it felt really nice.
"What's your name?" I asked, in hopes to familiarize with this beautiful being that had opened my eyes to something new.
"Breanna Riley," she grinned at me, "What's yours?"
"Carlton. Carlton Hargrave"
I hadn't felt happier in a long time. At that moment, all that mattered was knowing I made her smile today and she stopped crying because of me.
I never made anyone stop crying.
It felt really nice.
I liked this girl instantly; I wanted her to be my best friend. I wanted her to be only my friend and nobody else's.
And of course, I was accustomed to getting everything I wanted but immediately after that, she ran away to her group of friends.
Why was she not playing with me? Didn't she just tell me she was my friend?
I tried to get her attention but she never seemed to be interested in me.
What was that thing that I felt?
Sadness, I suppose. It's a feeling you get when you can't attain something you want so very dearly.
And at that moment in time, I couldn't really understand this feeling.
Why was she not mine?
Why couldn't I have her all for myself?
I wanted her.
And just like that, she became the only thing in my life that I could never attain.