I was drifting back and forth into consciousness and subconsciousness and I was thinking about many things that were set off in my mind that day I was in magic school for the first time as an extracurricular activity, around me were these same forest dust particles that came after I evaporated the monster out of existence. The thing had set for him, and it made him kind of dissipate. I still don't know where it is, but I am sure that most certainly it exists somewhere where I can be after from it for the time being. I am thinking of many other things that make me want to cross my mind out and give me some sort of relief, but at the same time, I reminisce about something that is weirdly destroying my mental state. My walk mostly consisted of me going back and forth and thinking since I woke up from a long sleep (because I was knocked out, so technically not asleep). I felt extremely dizzy and I felt like a migraine was about to set in. I combated this by thinking about some cool stuff that made my vibes more arranged and in order. I looked at the trees that were shaking like whistles through someone's cupped mouth. The more and more I think of silent things, I feel more ignorant like I am missing part of a bigger picture until I realized the reason why my brain was hurting like was the fact that I am remembering things that are transporting me into the past. Usually, with amnesiacs, they can't remember anything at all, even if their lives depended on it. my story was a lot weirder and wilder than usual, where I can remember, unlike some amnesiacs that are just sitting ducks in most situations. When their wives or sons scream out their name, they can't remember much at all, because the idea is now a lost memory and lost memories don't recuperate. That's what I thought at first, that just because I can't remember, I have the excuse of living a completely different life, but I remember, oh I remember. I got most of my whiffs from general things that would remind me. I remember days in my classes where bullies would harass me. I remember things that I used to do in class and things that I used to have, but the more I look at it, the more inconsistencies with my memory start to etch. Our minds like to play games and create random things if you can't remember others. I was asking myself questions and got little to no answers, even when I searched most of my life trying to get a solution (most of my life as in, some of it, I don't remember that either).so when I remember specific memories, they float in my mind like a balloon, that balloon holds a secret and if it pops, the secret is out, and the paradox is discontinued for good. Here, I had many inconsistencies. I remember some of it as if it were yesterday; magic was the very specific thing I remembered. It was something that I treasured and kept in my heart because I was proud of it, not a single aspect of it felt dull or boring, ostentatious and glamorous is what I thought when it came to its beauty and fiery and war-like is what I thought of when I saw its offensive capabilities. Things that I was happy about were the things I remember, no wonder, it sounds like one of those cliched plot devices that people use to make the character not remember anything so it can be relevant to the plot. Here was something that I remembered, it was a cumbersome day and everyone was sitting in the class minding their own business, the bells rang like fire bells if the city was on fire, and everyone got out of their seat and rushed out of class like an angry stampede of people looking to kill an outcast that had laid foot in their city ( I would describe them as buffalos as well). And this is where most of the story starts, in an extracurricular class that they called magic. It was relatively unknown at the time that magic was now practiced heavily in many areas, but now the school thinks that giving us a teacher that barely knows a thing about magic and letting him teach us, it was a disappointment, to say the least, but this is where the story began, in this dull, boring, ridden, and ugly class that they called "The Douche's Hipster Magic Club." It doesn't even have a ring to it.
I was ready to set my scene in the class, everyone was kinda pissed, or let's just say not in the best of moods in that specific day, since the level of malic has felt a lot more apparent, the hollowness of all of these things made me more of a sociopath, willing to experiment on my classmates to see how far I could take some of my ideas.
The teacher is there with a belly the size of a goddamn truck, and with a wizard's hat that looked like crap. I felt pretty bad for him because the jiggle physics weren't helping him walk. He did a small storm around the vicinity behind the table and then slammed his hands on the surface of the table. I saw his eyes were ready to charge someone with a death stare, and then I see him looking at one unfortunate student that bit the bullet.
"You!" He said in a loud and commanding voice that signified that most of his happy days were over. "Tell me, how does magic work!?"
When he asks a question like that, I feel like he is wanting to get killed by an actual magician. Some teachers were dumb and had little sense to back up their knowledge, wait did I say knowledge? I meant to say the lack of knowledge and lack of wisdom and the lack of sense. You genuinely can't find stupider people even if you tried.
"Uh...can I see the textbook?" The shy kid said. "No! Didn't you read it the house?" He said like a complete and literal douchebag.
The kid was nervous I could tell, his name was Hock Tenser, a kid that was very shy and tired in most of his days. He was known to stay up all night binging TV. I went up to him and asked him about everything he did, to see what type of person he was. He was the type of guy to screw up in life and make less than what he is capable of making; his words, not mine. We did become a little chummier, but my memory is hazy, and I barely can see crap from what I remember.
I snap out of the trance that put me in my memories. It's an illusion spell that gives me the ability to look in my mind, but the way it works is like this: I have to have an electric circuit between my neurons that releases electrical impulses that remind me of certain things. It is quite fascinating, but nerdy, so I'll move on. With this spell, there was more of a sleeping effect, like a dream, I remember some people who used to project their memories for others to see, and it was a marvel, but people's lives are mostly boring and shallow, nothing much happens in these memories except for the slight glimpse of people doing something embarrassing, or accidentally leaking secrets due to some sight in the memory. I think I need to renter trance, so I'll try to recreate what happened just now.
I laid down and then suddenly opened my eyes to find myself standing with myself in class. "And this is how magic works. Do you get it now Tenser?" said the jerk of a teacher. "Yes sir, I got it." Tenser replied, quite sadly and in a kneejerk way.
I was just looking at the lesson and I thought that most of that was just boring, so I started fast-forwarding and walking past a few desks to see some of the kids behind the class. Oh wait, I don't think we were in a class, oh yes! It was the gym; the gym was where we were. There was a board and the tables and seats were attached, and I saw the bleachers on the dimly lit sides of the corners in the middle and doors that lead to the corridor in the school and the exit from the school. They were behind the board and in front of the board respectively. My memory tricks me and my mind still makes up things but bear with me. Even talking to myself makes me require patience from myself...weird...
As I see we are now doing a test about some of the stuff that the teacher taught us, at least I learned on my own and not by a failed education system. I ponder to myself and I start to write down my questions patiently. My eyes were set on the paper and I was ready to write everything down to a precise letter. I look behind the class and some of the kids in the back were pulling out straws and paper; then they started to chew the paper; then look at me with a side-eye view; then aim; then shoot.
One of the spitballs has hit my head and being the disgruntled little kid that I was, I raise my hand to ask the teacher something.
"Yes, boy, what do you want?" he said annoyed. "Sir, my name is..."
I think I don't want to talk about my real name for a second, so presume that my name is Parable, because it sounds like a good name, even though it's the moral of a story in a biblical story.
"Yes, boy, what do you want?" he said annoyed. "Sir, my name is Parable, also one of the kids has to spit a spitball on me and I feel uncomfortable about it." I said in a scrawny squeaky voice.
He gets up from the chair and then looks at the kids that were spitting spitballs, he calls them out in a gruff voice insinuating screaming in his angry voice, but not meaning to. The kids stand up and walk by the chairs and then see me. They all had angry bull-like eyes that wanted to mount me on the wall. They looked furious and they walked while tapping the tables and knocking any pen or pencil that was not touched by the hands of a student.
They walked by my table and they saw one of my pens. The one walking first carried it and threw it on my face, at the same time, the teacher was looking at his book careless, nevertheless, they did move.
"Hey!" I uttered in a slightly forceful voice. "Oh, lookie what we've got here..." he said before getting cut off in a flabbergasted way by the teacher: "What is that I hear?" he puts his book down and says in a commanding manner. "One of these kids threw my pen at me because they were jealous!" I said in a more squeaky and childish manner than squeaky and scrawny, now I sounded whiny. "You're getting detention mister Gull!" The teacher looked and replied to the kid who hit me with my pen. "Come on! He started it!" He said in a more whiny and childish volume than mine. "Follow me to the principal's office, we've got a lot to talk about young man!" he replied in a more offsetting tone.
The kid had a more extreme reaction by throwing my desk in a fit of rage. He handled it and then flipped it quickly with everything on their falling pretty quickly and rapidly. He gave me a death stare, this time angrier, and then he raised his index and middle finger, pointed them towards his eyes, and then at me, which signifies that I am going to get my ass handed to me after school, but without hesitation, I just raised a middle finger, which the teacher didn't see.
"Mister! He raised his middle finger at me!" he said hastily and noisily. "Enough with your lies mister Gull! Get out!" He replied. And then he grabbed him from his neck collar and pushed him towards the door that leads to the corridor. While his friends looked down at me and I felt a huge relief that he was out.
The teacher looked at me and asked before he left with the Gull kid; "Did you give mister Gull the middle finger? Answer truthfully." He said in a calmer demeanor because that teacher liked me. I look to Hock, and he just opens the hand and he clenches his fingers together horizontally to wave it from left to right, signifying that I should just lie.
"No!" I reply quickly and then he subsequently starts to take the kid away, but I barely cared enough to give a shit.
His friends looked at me in anger and resentment, and I looked at them in a blank stare that was kind of creepy. They both stood on the board, while I was just looking at Hock and he just kept wagging his head from side to side. Confused, I start to wag my head up and down, but the movement opposed him, so he wagged his head horizontally again, but this time faster, so I replied with doing the same. Repeat this process a few more times and then you've got the bell ringing and me singing like a bird wasn't going to sit well with a couple of kids in the class, I think was going to get followed.
And that's what I first saw in my memory, which worked wonders now that I finally got in control of what I could see, so I'll try to see what happened next and find if there was anything noteworthy or out of the ordinary that happened. This is a lot more entertaining than I thought, but I didn't like me as a kid, I was admittedly childish but edgy childish, but hey, at least I wasn't eighteen, I was still fourteen when that happened, so maybe I could forgive myself, or maybe I can just say I am a major idiot and that I am going to get an ass-whupping.
After the class, I and Hock get out and we start walking. Hock had a skateboard, but he decided not to flash it because I never rode on in my entire life. Hock was known to be a bit shy and more offsetting than the other students. His father was considered a respectable man, as respectable as a garbage man can be, and his mother was a stay at home mom.
Hock was an only child, while I had an older brother. Hock was good at many things. Hock was a great kid and scored well, well enough for his background. Hock was a good friend. Hock, to me at least, was the perfect human being, scratch that, the coolest human being, right behind my brother of course.
Hock was someone that I've known for a long time, but he wasn't the first that I've known. He was a good kid, but what I hated about him was that he was clingy, in need of friends, and he would drag me out of class and into the playground to talk, instead of reading a novel or studying. Hock was a good kid. Hock was a great kid, scratch that, Hock was my only friend; that's why I thought of him in that way.
I've known him for almost five years, and now, in ninth grade, I still know him as the best. He was my only male friend, which seemed weird, but we had a lot of girls, that were friends of ours. I guess we weren't cool enough to have guy friends, but hey, it's okay, we both were straight, we didn't mind, they were nicer anyways, and they were (sort of) pretty.
Hock showed me his greatest trick, which was him flipping the skateboard and doing that trick where he'd hover over it. It's kind of cool, but when I tried to do it, I was extremely terrible at it. Mostly trash at sports in general, except for swimming, I loved that. Swimming was the only thing I was good at, Hock knew that that's why he'd go to the beach with me all the time.
Hock is the best, and there is no denying that, so why did I tell (you) myself all of that? Simply because Hock was my closest friend, I bonded with that kid, and there is no denying that.
We were walking out of school with our backpacks readied and closed. We were walking down a small sidewalk that reached from school to all the other houses. It was a suburban area that twisted and turned and was far off from the city. I was looking at the pseudo-night sky, and I was thinking of ways the universe could change and how everything could turn out differently. I look to Hock and see him itching to try his skateboard out. He was so used to the motion of grabbing the skateboard that it felt familiar and relaxing to him, the feeling of nostalgia from when we were kids and eating graham cookies while looking at the TV at Christmas time. The good ole days as some old-timer would say.
"You going for the skateboard?" I ask him reluctantly. "You know, I don't want you to feel...grubby, or poor for that matter." He said in a shy manner. "Boy! You better ride that skateboard before I beat your ass up!" I say in a joking manner.
He looks at me in a kinder, nicer, and even a more wholesome feel with his eyes perched up to look like double arcs placed on top of each other. He says calmly: "You know what? I'd rather not, didn't feel like riding anyways."
I knew he was lying to make me feel better, but I then replied with a sigh at the beginning: "You know what? Don't ride the skateboard ye good ole loser!"
"You're the loser here, you sit in class reading books!" He replied to me playfully, but when I am dissing, I am not playing (but I think I am speaking ironically).
"And you're the one to pulls the loser out of class, begging for him to talk to you." I reply snidely. "Shut up!" he says, and then we both start laughing.
It was still wholesome fun, after all, we weren't arch enemies or rivals, we were just chummy friends. I always thought that these moments were admittedly weird and childish, but it was who we were, children.
When we walked back home, we talked about a few topics; movies, TV shows, and also some games, although neither of us owned a console, since we came from low-income households. We were in the suburbs; where you could do more than what you were promised to do.
"What do you think of these magicians that you saw out there in wars?" I heard myself saying in the memory projection.
"You mean the ones that act in movies?" He replied confused.
Wait a minute, I think I screwed up in recounting my memories. These magicians, I don't think they were real, they were just actors in movies...goddamn it!
A little time passes as we walk, and then suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me; they were running behind us. And in the distance, I can hear some of them shouting some incoherent stuff. Hock looked scared behind him and I felt the humidity of the air rising in front of his face, from the heaving he was doing. I was calm and remained that way for a while. He looked at me in a way that was questioning, I decided to ignore it the first time. Then he spoke to me after three seconds of silence: "What do we do?" He said panicked.
The three of them have gotten out of detention, with one of them looking like he is going to wrestle a whale. I was just looking at these kids that were our size and thought to myself: if these people rush us like that, I don't think they'll stand a chance against me.
I see them gaining up, while both of us were still walking like little angels. They were getting closer with the words that they screamed being: "We're gon' get you, twerps!"
"Give me the skateboard," I said quietly, but assuredly. Hock immediately pulled out the skateboard with force and handed it to me with delicacy and in a small little arc from the back of the bag to the front of me. We were still turned backward, and I don't think they know we are planning what we were planning.
The kid that was between them speeded up, and as I saw the shadow that turned behind me increasing in size. I just immediately carried the skateboard in two hands and smacked him across the face with it without a swing. My back was turned, and the kinetic motion of that turn ended up being the force need to get the kid off balance. He fell as fast as a person tripping over stairs, while he had a small cut over his forehead that looked small enough, but it was caused by his violent fall. He fell to the left side with his head on the pavement. Hock was looking down shocked at what I just did.
They stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw their friend hit the floor, it was like he was a hostage.
"So, anyone else wants to come up towards me?" I said bravely, but carelessly, I genuinely didn't care that I smacked a kid with a skateboard. They looked at me scared and confused, while the other kid was getting up.
I beat him over the head with the skateboard again and kept it placed over his back so he can't get up. "Listen, I am not messing around here, take your bum-fag friend, and just–" I said before I got cut off by some muffling the kid was doing while I put him down. I carried the skateboard and he tried to get up as soon as I let it off his back, so I slammed him into place again, and then said: "I didn't finish talking yet." And then continued my sentence: "And just get out of here, got that?"
They shook their heads and then when I let go of the hostage kid, he just stepped back with bruises and that same cut filling his face and the back of his head. "Now shoo!" I said as they grouped up. "But our house is in the same dir–" they said before I cut them off with: "Did I ask for your opinion?"
They responded accordingly, and just went across the street from the pavement and walked the same way.
It was awkward to be walking back with the same people you hit just a few seconds ago, but I wasn't scrawny, and I sure as hell wasn't squeamish, I was just a little rough around the edges, that's all!
"Damn dude! You sure showed them!" Hock said in awe. "What do you mean? It was self-defense." I replied in a fake humble way.
Hock now respects me more, at least that's what I think. I look at him and he looks at me with content and wholesomeness filling us up inside, then some disorienting thing happens that kind of destroys the focus that we had between each other. We were even smiling with these arc-like eyes before they offset us.
"Are you ass-fags kissing or what?" One of them screams in the distance, I think it was the Gull kid, I don't remember their faces and I don't want to bother to rewind.
I silently tell Hock to give me the skateboard, and then he does so in the same fashion that he gave me the skateboard with before. I carry the skateboard above my head with one arm, specifically the right one, and I say loudly and proudly: "You want me to ram it up your asses?"
Hock starts to giggle, but I wasn't giggling.
"Square up, pussy!" The Gull kid said, and I immediately rushed them, while Gull looked in awe, as if I was going to kick all of their asses.
I kind of realized he was that same kid because of the tone of his voice, my memory is quite shaky, but for now, I'll just call him 'the Gull kid.'
I immediately went for the first one in the group, which was the teacher-professed name of the kid, Mister Gull as he was called. I tried to smack him with it on the top of his head since I was carrying it over my head with both arms, and when I ran for them, it was behind my back with both arms grasping it from the back. I went for a hit, but he grabbed the skateboard and then raised his leg and shoved me with it. I went falling flat on my back, where Hock's bright expression turned into a face of pure horror.
They looked at me with creepy smiles, as if they wanted to eat me, and then they said: "It's time to give you a taste of your medicine tough-guy." And then they proceeded to slam the skateboard onto my head. It admittedly looked like it hurt, but I think I handled it well, by putting my hands over my head, closing my eyes, and bending my legs to my chest.
On the second hit, Hock rushed in quickly with a math textbook that had a hardcover and then smacked the kid that hit me with the skateboard with the book square in the face, this was the second time he gets smacked with an object, not counting that one time his father...you know what? Let's just continue. Because I think I remember more than what it seems to me.
He grabs his head in sheer hurt and both of his friends back off again (they are pretty useless friends, they stand there and barely react), Hock grabs the skateboard and then grabs me by the hand, and we do a run for it. He tells me to climb on his skateboard and he gives me his bag and the textbook so he can gain more speed on his skateboard while I put his stuff in the bag.
"What are you doing?! Go after them!" The Gull kid screams and then his friends immediately rush, and he just puts a hand on his head from the agony he got from the textbook Hock hit him with. He just sits there while his friends come for us.
Hock already was gaining speed and I was carrying his backpack on my chest with my hands around it. I immediately rush the skateboard while the two were right behind me. "Jump on!" Hock exclaimed with his squeaky voice, and I jump, but we end up losing balance and falling over because the bags were so heavy.
I look behind us and they are already two feet far, so I jump up immediately and start to square up. I look at one of them and I decide to throw a punch, it hits one of their guts, but it wasn't strong enough to cripple the person I hit. The other grabbed me from shirt from behind and started to shake me, while Hock was trying to get up from his fall.
"You were acting tough just a second ago, what happened?" The kid that was carrying me said condescendingly. He was taller than me, but the other was a little taller, and the Gull kid was just the tallest out of all of them, thus they could easily give me an ass-whupping, but Hock was the tallest one out of all of us, so I needed him to help me out.
He was just standing up, but the other kid ran up towards him and kicked him in his testicles, to which Hock fell immediately without any hesitation as if someone punched him in the stomach while doing pushups. I saw tears flow down his face and I was feeling a little more motivated to beat the ever-living crap out of them, that's if I could.
I was looking at Hock being in a lot more pain than I have been in, so instead of being a stubborn idiot like I was, he just starts screaming out for help. And I am being carried just looking at the houses and admiring the beauty of it right before I get pulverized.
The kid that was carrying me drops me on the floor and in a small twist of fate, I was able to do something, but that thing was the most anticlimactic in the whole wide world...I too started to scream with Hock. We were screaming on the top of our lungs and our voices cracked throughout the entire ordeal. And these two wanted to be snarky and immediately started bellowing out with us in a sarcastic way and it felt ear grating, to say the least.
This loud cacophony that made ears bleed if it came into contact within a sixteen-mile radius. While I was screaming as well, I admittedly was feeling more and more nauseous the longer the scream lasted.
The other kid started getting closer and closer to me, but just as I was screaming to the point of no return, there was another more girlish sound screaming on the top of its lungs as well.
It was a girl from our class carrying a baseball bat and was ready to bash into both of them. Now they can handle a skateboard, but when you see someone carrying a baseball bat rushing to you in a deep-seated rage, your most likely reaction would be to make a run for it, which is what they did.
The entire escapade was an elaborate mess, but at least we were able to get away from it scot-free. I look at the girl, and I recognize her from earlier today, it was Miranda. I remember her, but she had a type of hair that was long and curly and ran down her neck, it was quite something beautiful, but her face was the standard face that all of us shared (I still can't know why we all have the same faces, but I think it's an error of design).
She immediately rushed to Hock, who seemed to be in much more pain and suffering, but I rushed there before her. Immediately as the bullies left the area is when I did so, but it was more of cowardice form me than from her, I hate archetypes.
"You okay buddy?" I asked worriedly. "Yeah I'll be alright, just let me lie here for a little bit." He said assuredly.
Miranda looks at us with these same arc-like eyes, and I just approach her to say: "Thanks, honestly."
"Hey, it's fine, you know, quite a lot of people pass from here, but these same kids just follow suit ready to bully someone." She said in an expository way, but I don't think it was loud enough. "Yeah!" I replied carelessly. "Why were they chasing you?" She asked while making one eye arced and the other oval-like as if she were weirded out by a question.
I didn't know what to reply with, which is what made me more prone to jumbling up the words in my head and trying to speak, I think it is stuttering that I am referring to when talking about this.
"Well, it was because I flipped them off." I said in an earnest light. She laughed and then just kept on laughing until her eyes were tearing and became red, while was just exhaling a little chuckle. She just was glad to help us, and I was just in awe at how great the feeling of helping was; they accomplish something which makes them feel good, you were helped in something, so it makes you feel good, combine both and it makes us collectively feel great.
She asked me if Hock was going to be alright, even though she heard his words, she didn't believe them. I told her that he was going to be fine and alright. She told me to check up on him, she doesn't know what might've happened, but she assumes it is something serious, I assured her that he'll be fine.
Hock got up and then thanked Miranda for her help, to which she blushed and said: "Thanks a lot, it wasn't much!" In a more colorful tone. Hock then said that he had to go, to which I asked if I could come with, to which his reply was: "You think I wouldn't drag you with me?"
We both bid farewell to Miranda, who was still blushing, and we went on our merry way.
We went to our respective houses and there, we did what we would normally do when we came back...
See something doesn't feel right, I could've sworn I remembered a magic class, what was that class then?
I am extremely hazy, maybe I should just keep remembering, but this time not let my mind play cheap tricks on me, wait a moment...here it is! I think I should just talk in tones and just recount a few more things, but I think I remember one more thing, it was me sitting in the bed and I am looking at my reflection of myself, I still don't understand this memory, this is where I was stuck in and there is no explanation to my peril; what is this? This is more of a way to have a story being told to form an incoherent mess of an idea out of nothing more than sticks and stones, the story is lining well. I don't think I've tackled all plot threads and my ideas are being broken up in intersections.
I was sitting in my room crying, why was I crying?
I was reminiscent of days where it was better, and I thought to myself: maybe I could escape by doing something that'd make me famous. I start to remember when I first walked into the house and I saw my dad drunk and alone watching TV, while my brother was upstairs, but not in his room, he was in someone else's. Who was that?
Who was that someone else, I need to know, and why can't I move forward in my memory. I am sitting in darkness and everything was removed after I blink, everything was...blank...empty...almost...dead.