People have the misconception that failure builds character. However, it's all in their nature.
A positive character would view loss as an opportunity to learn and improve. A pessimist would see it as their fault.
Negative feedback weighs on their conscience, or rather, taints their personality.
I like to view it as a strand of hair ties to one's soul. One or two can never do harm, heck, even thousands wouldn't be so terrible. However, if you strain them the strands of hair would seem more like a rope, pulling them up and up until…
That's how I view the world.
Bunch of strings of emotions tainted black coming out from each and every person.
***
Growing up, I felt distant. From my parents. From my friends. From myself.
I wouldn't say I did not belong, but I always knew I lack that something that puts someone really close to you.
At first, I was scared. I did not want to be ungrateful for my parents, or uncaring for my friends.
I did not want to be fake.
As time passed, I grew numb to the fear and other emotions of sympathy and sucked it up.
Even though I felt distant from my parents, my mother always made sure to show her care. Through self-doubts, depressive and intrusive thoughts, she made sure I knew she was there for me.
Guess there's nothing stronger than the love of a mother. Huh.
By the time I turned twelve, she passed away along with my brother, █ █ █ █. Leaving me and my father alone. And since then, my fear of being fake grew.
My father believed more in tough love and discipline. He did not know how to motivate or encourage, making our relationship more awkward without my mother's support. I never hated him, I actually felt closer than ever, knowing he also shares the same pain I go through. However…
discipline alone is not the way to raise a child. And so, we grew distant under the same roof.
The loss of my mother did not make it any easier for him as well.
Each night I can hear the sobs deprived from regrets and sorrows, knowing he can't have what he lost.
We grew apart even further.
It started with simple mornings with both of us rarely speaking, maybe a joke was thrown to lighten the mood with no veil. Later on, the silence choked the room more often than seldom and screeched the hollow house.
Our family was falling apart.
Depression made me sleep deprived and solitude affected my social life. Making me less communicative, less approachable. It feels like being a ghost. Meanwhile my studies worsened up with the growing fatigue weighing on my mind through depression and sleepless nights.
One day, when I was still at high school, the class had to work on a team project.
"Hey, Seth, let's do that project together." One of my old friends said invitingly. I long forgotten his name and face. Only the bitter voice resounded in my ears.
"So, let's divide the roles then. "
As we worked on the boring project, I distinctively remember what my thoughts were.
'Make it stop.'
Their study was lacking, and their craftsmanship of the subject was faulty. A normal occurrence for this age.
"Hey, Seth, you got your part ready? Today is the deadline."
"Y-yes."
Without much but a single word, I took out the script I made for the project's presentation.
Back then, my mind was lost in my excruciating life. I did not feel like there was any future. Losing my mother threw me off, but losing the entire family made me feel like I'll lose my life.
My premature mindset blamed anything but myself. and my frustration would turn against my classmates.
A ringing sound woke me from my prison called my mind.
At this time, my mind was in a state of haze. A motivation I had lack from mental exhaustion didn't let me think straight or even question the legitimate of the situation.
Intuitively, I took out my communicator and put it in my ear. An unfamiliar voice talked softly to my ear.
"Hello, am I talking to Sethos? I'm sorry to tell you your father passed away. Time of death was announced this morning-"
Before the stranger's voice could send their condolences and end the call, the communicator fell from my hand and sound of broken metal pieces sent shockwaves across the empty room.
My insomnia did not help, and instead an irrational irritation derived my body to let out steam. My body felt numb and my vision blurry. I couldn't feel my hands as I clenched them until bloody red color washed them.
I punched and slammed my body everywhere to try and regain my senses. Of pain. Of control…
Furniture and papers scattered around the room, but I didn't care. pieces of wood and metallic sounds passed over my head.
my mind refused to think straight.
Before I knew it, light invaded the classroom as the door opened.
People gathered around the entrance, attracted to the fuss inside the classroom and in the front line stood my "friends". Watching me full of tears, wounds and bruises. And across the floor, our entire project lies in tatters.
"Seth, a- "
'There comes that sympathy.' I presumed. I am willing to get the little comfort from the people I can call friends, however, that thought was cut short when screams and shouts came instead.
"Are you insane?! We stayed up all night to finish that!" they shouted. Clearly, they didn't find my side justified in any way.
Essentially, the teacher arrived, as well, sending me to the principal office without much chance to argue back. All I'm left with is just the sense of betrayal from my entire world and the only family I had lost forever.
As I was catching my breath and calming down a bit, I noticed my arms were painted red.
And then, the pain washed over me.
The aches and pain made me fall on the floor and I squirmed in pain. I couldn't let out a word but low growl and shiver my body from the excruciating pain. The yells coming from everyone at the classroom entrance were mute, seemingly taking this all as my excuse to escape punishment.
Flesh was missing from my limbs and bones deformed. I could not help but feel myself growing dizzy again, but this time, for a completely different reason, until at last, I lost consciousness with the last sight I had is the look of people who did not care to show the same sympathy I was lacking… but pure hatred, seeing nothing more than annoyance.
***
[Aspirant, Welcome to The Nightmare Spell! Prepare for your First Trial…]
A distinct familiar voice resounded in my dream. The form of text appeared like a vivid vision.
'Am I having an insomniac dream?'
A scene appeared before me. As if receiving a divination.
A fire danced across a vast wasteland, as far as the eyes can see, moved oddly out of shape. The skies were painted red and air was filled with black from smoke and ashes. As time proceeded, the horizon became greener. Forests appeared out of the flames, as if grass feeds on the red of the flames and the radius of the wildfire reduced to the same center.
The time rewinds.
When the fire got closer, a flash of light filled my vision and erosion was undone.
As the big bang subsided, the area was filled with a large population. Warriors and knights fight each other, as the explosion was undone by a single individual.
As the time kept rewinding itself, I could see the knights leaving the scene. In matters of seconds, the village looked like any normal town you'd expect to find anywhere. The rewind kept going for a good amount of time until it finally ceased. And then, I woke up.
When I did, I couldn't see anything. I opened my eyes, but I had no sight.
I was blind.
Standing up, my body felt light. My injuries were gone. Standing up, I did not feel a regular floor. It was neither marble nor porcelain nor anything I'd expect to feel in a hospital.
The floor was made of wood. An old kind, creaking behind under my feet.
"Honey, do you need help?" a feminine soothing voice resounded from the next room.
A heavy breath left my lungs as I felt drops of salty water rolling on my cheeks.
And then, I heard the creaky sound of a wooden door opening.
"Oh, hon, please don't push yourself. You might get hurt." The female voice resounded closer, voice with concern and a hint of urgency.
A light, soft touch brushed my palm and led me across an unfamiliar space.
"Here, take a seat and breakfast will be ready in a heartbeat!" and as promised, I heard an object lied in front of me and the unfamiliar woman sat next to me.
She fed her blind son.
"Layla has been waiting for you all morning. She's waiting for you outside. I'll take you there."
After breakfast, I was led outside. There, the girl called Layla called for me. The voice I heard was as cheerful and innocent as a child.
She held my hand and invited me to play. Following her, more voices gathered around me. Several more kids in the same age. No one sounded pleased to see me, though.
"Argh, why did you bring that dirt bag? He'll just bring down any team he'll end up in." A boy said, his voice sounded deeper than the rest of the children yet still fit for the age.
After a calm wave of silence, the girl who looked after me asked me to wait for her aside and led me to an empty bench to sit on.
I could hear the distant mumbling as Layla argued with the other children.
While waiting patiently, I began to feel tired again. But this time, something appeared in front of me. Somehow, getting a visual image as a blind person, I could make out a line. And then another. And more appeared. The lines moved like strings, ascending beyond comprehension, while some entangled in a shape that could resemble a body.
They were entangled around the other children. One figure's strings were mostly red, the other pink, another blue, and another green. From the red string person, multiple strings ascended above. Every string that reached high was tainted black and some had more spots than the others.
The lines themselves were mostly different shades of blue and with the taint of black painting them darker.
"You can join us!" I heard a shout coming from the dancing strands.
***
The next day I was woken by the feelings of hair caressing my face. As my eyes "opened", I could see light pink strands leaving a trail, leading me to the kitchen.
"Oh, sweetie, I didn't notice you woke up! Are you doing alright?" Mother said, her voice being soft as yesterday with a sign of relief.
"Breakfast is ready, I was just about to wake you up." And like yesterday, the strings around her arm laid a plate on the table.
After breakfast, I tried to find more strings, and I found them.
Beyond the walls of the house, I could see numerous figure-shaped strings entangled. Some by themselves, some with others. The different shades of colors all look clear.
Strings of the darker shade gained a higher aptitude. Some were painted black. Trying to understand the complexity of cobwebs is not easy.
And when I thought of the question of why it's happening, brand new vision appeared.
It was a page or runes. They read:
Name: Sethos.
True Name: ---
Rank: Aspirant
Soul Core: Dormant
Memories: ---
Echoes: ---
Attribute: [Insomniac], [Cobweb of Lies].
Aspect: [Darker Than Black].
Aspect Description: [A tunnel darker than most, and no light in sight. The only guide you have are the screams of hidden emotions buried below the surface].
[Insomniac: sleep deprivation weighs on the mind, breaking it apart.]
[Cobweb of Lies: Rays of light won't shine on these strings; darkness hides myriads but lies it shall not.]
The information presented itself to me, showing the ideas of emotions the people hide.
The entire tapestry shown to me entangled and intertwined with numerous more, leading to much more strings.
The amount itself overwhelmed my brain. Complexity of the ties made my head spin, my mind exhausted and my mentality wore down. This vision showed me a lot, too much even.
However, I could not take my sight away from the colorful scenery. For few hours now, all I did was sit on my bed and try to break down each string, or at least a strand, and for a long time I just could not make sense of some of them.
The world is complex, and my fragile focus shifts so easily. I could not think straight enough before I entered a state of daze. Often, I would enter a state of semi-sleep, with my brain unfocused and dreams envelop my vision and ears, causing me to hallucinate distant voices and flashing lights.
After several days of sleepless nights, I could walk casually inside my own house, and even step outside when the streets are not too crowded. My friend, Layla, visited me almost every day and helped me fit in with the other kids. Each one of them was never welcoming at first. And even now, they did not bother to come out of their way to invite me.
As days went by, I noticed darker colors on the strings of Layla as they shift a little higher. I made sure to do what I could to help her relax.
One day, Layla came, however, not for me this time, but to take shelter.
I stayed in my room, making sure they wouldn't suspect I've yet to waken up.
"Is it fine, then?" Layla said shyly, her voice weak and scared. My mother sounded in-panic as well, as if they were chased by an angry mob.
"Of course, sweetheart! I just can't believe such thing happened so suddenly. I'm sure things will brighten up soon enough. Please, take a seat. I will make you a hot beverage."
I could not make out their conversation or the reason for what happened to Layla.
'Did she get hurt?' I asked myself. Could it have been my fault, somehow? I could not hear them talking further and tried to walk sneak back to bed.
On the first step I took, the wooden plank on the door creaked, alerting the girls in the other room.
"Looks like we got company." My mother announced. "Layla, Sweetie, why don't you go play with him for now. I'm sure he'd be happy to show you around."
Settling on my bed, I heard a knock on my room's door. After inviting Layla in, her tone became much calmer and stable. As if her courage grew ten-fold from the frightening state she was in just few moments ago. "Hey, the weather seems rather heavy today so I thought we could hang out inside."
The cheerful voice that came to greet me could fool anyone, especially a blind person. However, I knew better. Because the darkness of the strings has infected all her emotions. Every single one stretches into the heavens and above and looks like they could play a tune. A harp made from the pain of others, and the strain made by the pressure of society. It all comes down to this.
The stressful melody puts my restless mind in a trance, giving me the irrational urge to pick it. And just when my finger has touched and plucked the strings, the most harmonious, beautiful melody resounded softly in my ears.
As if the entire room, the entire world fell silent to the sound of the soothing sound of the most emotional piece of sound someone could possibly hear.
A sound so soft, a melody so gentle could make anyone who hears the music shed tears. And just when I played this harmony almost instinctively, I found the dawn of a newfound realization. The entire world, every person with strings attached, is eventually meant to be part of this beautiful orchestra.
A sound so beautiful deserves a large audience, and thus, the world must bear witness. The world shall hear it across both realms as I plight to conduct these people – these instruments – and make the place full of such music.
The scene played in my ears as Layla and I laughed, played, and enjoyed spending our time together. Both of us enjoyed this performance of a lifetime.
A performance that could last until your last breath.
The melody played until the break of dawn of the next day, and with the end of the night, thus came the end of the concert.
The strings were done and mangled all together, making a knot that strained the sound of music. And by morning, all that is left is just me, smiling widely in satisfaction and Layla.
Her limp body hanging from the ceiling, her face all but disfigured and her hair stretched above.
Eyes are shut and all is left of her is the big smile we share thanks to this beautiful melody I shall call "Death".