9

I just had a weird dream. 

I caught a windfall, dealing with some scary-looking guys, hit and hummiliate Carl, then almost... kissed a girl (?).

Duh. That's an embarrassing fantasy for a wet dream.

I checked my bottom, it didn't feel damp, let alone sticky. So it was just a silly sleeping flower.

Am I that desperate, huh? 

Yes ... I was indeed in that phase, and last night's dream indicates that my puberty is in its prime, but still...

But what if it wasn't a dream? At least the part where I got a wad of money.

I picked up my mobile phone, intending to check Mum's m-banking, but immediately decided against it.

What the hell was I doing? Hadn't I stopped expecting those delusions?

What I needed to do now was work harder and more effectively to pay Mum's operation.

That's when the mobile phone notification came, a text message from my colleague Fletcher. It wasn't just one.

William Fletcher

Hey, dickhead, did you rat me out to Liz? I'll forgive you this time, but there will be no free dinner,

William Fletcher

Where the fuck are you? Your shift is about to end. The boss keeps asking me where you are. If you're not here in ten minutes, I'll come and beat you up myself.

William Fletcher

Playtime is over. You'll be done after this.

William Fletcher

Hey, hey. Why is there no answer? Not brave enough to admit your mistake? Huh, it's too late for that. I've reported you, the boss is furious, you'll be fired!

William Fletcher

Okay, okay. You can answer now. I'll listen. Where exactly are you? Liz is rambling on and on about you and making the atmosphere of the resaturant unpleasant.

William Fletcher

Is the news about you dealing with those thugs true? You bastard. Why do kids like you like to get into trouble so much? Tell me where you are now. Everyone is worried about you.

And there were several other messages. Then there were those from Liz, even Mr. Sandler.

Huh? Dealing with thugs? Skipping work? I've never been absent, though.

Wait, dealing with thugs?

Huh?

No way, right.

*#*

As I walked through the hallways of the school, I kept thinking about all the probabilities.

It felt like last night went like a normal day. I went to work, cleaned up the shop, visited Mum, and then went home.

And on that trip, no trouble like a thug ambush happened.

Or did it really happen? But, in a dream. But what if it wasn't a dream?

As I was about to close my locker and turn around, I accidentally bumped into someone. While groaning, I was surprised by what I saw. It was Carl. I hurriedly apologised.

"What did you mean just now, huh?" snapped Carl fiercely while cornering me into the locker. "Don't get complacent just yet! You attacked me when I wasn't ready! That's not a fair fight, you know!" Carl babbled nonsensically.

What the hell was that he was ranting about? A fight? What have I done to him?

"Pfft..." That's when we heard an unfamiliar voice from the side.

When I turned my head, I saw Susan Becker who was trying to hold back her laughter.

"Geez, aren't you embarrassed, Wilson?" Becker said with a grin.

"Stay out of it, Becker," Carl replied nonchalantly.

"I'm just trying to save you, you know. You wouldn't want to be humiliated by the same person a second time, would you," Becker exclaimed while gesturing around us.

Without us realising it, almost every pair of eyes in the hallway was watching our argument.

It made me gulp. Carl's grip on my collar was also getting stronger. He must have been furious.

However, instead of punching me, he just threw me against my locker, turned around, and stomped away.

What happened?

I felt my shoulder being elbowed lightly. I looked over again.

"You can't be lax with someone like him. He's scared of you now, but he's still trying to find ways to prove you wrong," Becker said with a smile, tapped my shoulder repeatedly, and waved as she left.

Again, what just happened?

*#*

I was the class president, but that didn't mean I could get along with all my classmates, let alone control their behaviour. Because of this, my position was hardly considered. They looked up to Jason more as a leader.

Even when it came to submitting assignments, I had to work extra hard to remind everyone so that I wouldn't get sprayed by the homeroom teacher.

However, today was completely different. 

Having just entered the classroom, I was already greeted with a good morning greeting. A group of boys came up to me, invited me to join a club, invited me to their house to play video games, and had lunch together.

In Biology class, there was group work. It's something I'm not too keen on. It's a problem that plagues every unpopular person, I guess.

However, the problem at the time wasn't so much the fear of not getting one.

Susan Becker invited me to join her group.

By the way, she was the belle of the ball, and probably the school. With her toned Latin American face, petitie red lips, and those two precious assets between her above-average breasts; she was always the target of every guy in school. Not to mention the selection of trendy clothes that always managed to maximise her elegance.

However, like any other beautiful girl, Susan was known to be a picky person. Sure, she had dated a few guys, but all of them had impressive records, as well as being eccentric.

From a basketball captain who led the school to win the city competition, to a troublemaking alumnus who was even worse than Jason.

Whatever I did, it must have been so amazing that it impressed her.

It made me question the reality I was living in again.

Moreover, Jason's entourage didn't bother me at all today.

This feels too good to be true.

Or is it never the case?

These too-smooth things are making me feel uneasy. I feel like I'm falling into a deadly trap so slick and inviting that it seems like a gift. A trap... that I don't know who set up.

"Hey, McKane," someone called from behind as I was about to leave. "The kids are gathering at Ian's place today, are you sure you don't want to come? There'll be a lot of people coming."

It was Klay Richards. The tall, reddish-haired man who I had somehow grown close to since today.

If I'm not mistaken, he used to be in trouble with Jason. I heard he was even bullied. I reported the incident to Mr Henderson, and Jason was (thankfully) disciplined immediately.

I'm not trying to be a hero. Jason can do whatever he wants, it's a variable that even the teachers can't prevent. But, also for the sake of my future comfort, people like him should be warned about boundaries.

After that, I heard nothing. There were conflicting reports, but I trusted what I could see. "No, thank you. I have some business after this."

Richards's steps paused and his gaze emitted an overly complicated emotion, pointing ahead. "Was that business ... got to do something with those people over there?" said Richards as he pointed ahead, behind the crowd of returning students and passers-by, there were three burly men who were chest to chest in front of a black limousine.

Their facial lines were all stern and their gaze swiftly scanned the entire school.

"Um... what did you say just now?" I asked as I turned to Richards again, or at least the place where he used to stand.

By then Richards was already moving away, waving, and squealing in the distance. "See you tomorrow, good luck."

I gulped. Why does this feel nostalgic? Oh well, never mind.

Maybe, when he was bullied, Jason hit him too hard and made his brain function not run as optimally as it used to. I guess that's why Richards came to such a strange conclusion.

After all, what business do I have with a bunch of bodyguards, mobsters, gangsters, and whatever those creeps call themselves.

Wait, gangsters?

Fletcher's message echoed back and it made my hair stand on end.

Feigning ignorance, I looked away, blended in with the few students walking together, and passed through the gate.

I made it out! They didn't realise!

"Hey!"

Just then my shoulder was grabbed, no, gripped. 

I looked back. One of the three people was coming towards me, throwing me a look that seemed to strip me naked.

I gulped.

The man opened his mouth, "Come with us."

At that moment, I knew that there was no way out.

*#*

"I think there's a bit of a misunderstanding here." 

I really don't know what happened. Did we know each other before?

In the car, there were only the three men, and the driver who I had never met before either.

I did have some unique ways of disciplining dangerous people like Jason, but even then I was consumed with fear. There was always a chance that I would get caught, and Jason would turn around and hurt me in such a cruel way. Let alone theese people .

I recalled Flecher's message, connected it to this, and then came to only one conclusion that sounded quite reasonable.

I have multiple personalities.

Well, yes, it's a very rare thing, and my family doesn't have a history of mental illness (I guess, but it happens in films and mystery stories anyway). The other personality commits a crime, and the original personality takes the fall.

I need to straighten it out, but what do I do? I don't even pay attention, I don't even think about it.

If left unchecked, I don't know where I'll be taken. A dungeon complete with instruments of torture or smuggled to another country to be sold at a low price?

I need to get out! I need to leave!

Perhaps by opening the door and rolling over? Even someone as strong as them wouldn't be prepared for sudden movements, but ...

When I saw the rocky road we were travelling on at speed, I decided not to go back. 

Look, it's not a matter of me being too cowardly, but rather basic human instinct. 

After all, zero plus zero is zero. If I died trying to save myself, it would all be for nothing anyway.

Just then the car stopped.

Have we arrived?

One of the three burly men shifted slightly, looked out the window, and seemed to feel awkward.

"Hey, we're not there yet--"

The glass was broken by something (or someone), and a suspicious object entered. I thought I had seen that thing somewhere, but immediately dismissed it as impossible.

Stupid decision.

It was exactly what I expected.

It was a smoke bomb!

An intoxicating shade of grey soon filled the entire car, leaving us coughing and disoriented.

What was it again this time?

Someone opened the door. This time involuntarily. Just as a large supply of clear air seeped in from outside, I immediately reached out. Someone pulled my head further and further away.

It wasn't until three seconds later that I realised I'd been led further away. From the dimness in my eyes that was beginning to clear, I saw someone throw several burning bottles near the car.

The bottles exploded. The car exploded.

It was a powerful explosion that brought my consciousness fully back, my eyes bulging, my breathing ragged.

The new stranger who took me away seemed to realise that too.

I looked at him. 

I swore I had never seen him, let alone recognised him. But, for some reason, when I saw his crooked nose, I felt like I was swimming in an old memory.

His hand was raised, my nose punched. It was the kind of fatal blow that seemed to make my brain shift and slam into the ground. I could even hear the sound of bone cracking (my nose bone). The top of my mouth tasted moist, and salty. My vision blurred again, then disappeared completely.