A young man in a school uniform rushed toward the red-light intersection ahead, sprinting as if chasing down something urgent, nimbly weaving through the crowd of pedestrians blocking his path.
"Thud,"
"Hey... watch it!" shouted a pedestrian.
"Sorry, I’m late!" the young man called back over his shoulder without breaking his stride.
By the time he reached the intersection, the light had turned red, signaling traffic to stop. A pretty girl in the same school uniform stood at the corner, preparing to cross now that the cars had halted. But as the young man glanced around, he spotted a heavy truck still speeding straight toward her. He lunged forward and grabbed her hand. Startled, the girl turned toward him in surprise, but before she could react, he yanked her back with all his strength, wrapped his arms around her, and spun around.
"Swoooosh,"
"Hooonk,"
A truck roared past right in front of them, and moments after clearing the crosswalk, "crash," the truck plowed straight into a traffic light pole at the corner.
A heavy silence instantly fell over the scene. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, his body still trembling, the young man held the girl tightly in his arms.
"Hey... let go of me... I can’t breathe... let go!"
Realizing he was holding her far too tightly, the young man immediately stepped back and released his grip. The girl gasped for air, catching her breath, but then her gaze locked onto him. Her hand whipped up and "slap," the young man’s head snapped to the side from the hard blow against his cheek.
"You almost got me killed, Clyde!" the girl said, her eyes welling up with tears.
"Uh... sorry, Monica," Clyde stammered.
"If you hadn’t been late, none of this would have happened, you know that?" Monica snapped.
"But... weren’t you mad at me yesterday... because of that horror movie we watched last night?" Clyde asked.
Monica’s face flushed bright red, her jaw tightened, and tears pooled in her eyes. She raised her hand again, and Clyde squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for another slap, but Monica’s hand trembled in midair before she lowered it.
"Huh... forget it, let’s just get to school, we’re already late," Monica muttered.
"R-right," Clyde replied briefly, thoroughly confused.
They crossed the street, ignoring the growing crowd gathering around the wrecked truck wrapped around the pole, which was clogging up traffic. Once they reached the other side, Clyde stole a glance at Monica walking beside him.
"Good thing I made it in time... My goal was to be late because... if we had left on time... both of us would’ve been right in front of that truck, and right now our dead bodies would be smashed against that light pole, pinned inside the truck frame... ugh... it really sucks only being able to see grim futures like this," Clyde thought to himself.
Clyde let out another sigh, and they kept walking toward their school just a short distance ahead. Slipping through the gates at the very last second and running into the school building,
"Clyde,"
Clyde turned and saw a teacher calling his name. He pulled to a stop, and naturally Monica, who was walking beside him, paused as well.
"Looks like he needs you, I’ll go on ahead," Monica said.
"Yeah... sorry again," Clyde replied.
"It’s fine... thanks for saving me, see you at lunch, okay? I’ll drop by your class," Monica said with a small smile.
"Yeah... you’re not mad anymore, right?" Clyde asked.
"How could I stay mad at a childhood friend like you? Now go on, Mr. Harris is waiting," Monica answered with a smile.
Monica turned around and walked briskly toward her class, while Clyde turned and walked over to a male teacher named Mr. Harris, an academic teacher at his school.
After following Mr. Harris into a private conference room, they sat down. Harris pulled out a sheet of paper and set it on the desk. One look at the document, and Clyde instantly understood why Harris had called him in.
"Clyde, where are you planning to go for college?" Harris asked.
"Um... I don’t know yet, sir. Haven’t really thought about it," Clyde answered.
"Look, you’re the smartest student in your grade. Senior year has one semester left before final exams, and the foundation is offering a scholarship so you can study in the capital. What do you think?" Harris asked.
Clyde fell silent and looked down, though it was obvious he was thinking hard as he stared at the paper in front of him listing the universities where he could receive the scholarship. Harris leaned back in his chair.
"You don’t need to worry about tuition because the scholarship covers everything, and they even provide dorms so you can live there for free. It would be a real shame to let an opportunity like this pass," the teacher urged softly.
"Um... could I get a little time to think it over, sir?" Clyde asked.
"Do you want to discuss it with your parents first? I can speak directly with them if you’d like," Harris asked.
Clyde answered with a nod. The teacher sighed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on the desk as he stared at Clyde across from him.
"Alright, I’ll give you two weeks. A lot of students want this scholarship, so if you don’t take it, I can pass it on to someone else," Harris said.
"You can just pass it on right now, sir. It’s totally fine," Clyde replied.
"Oh, come on. I’m prioritizing you because you’re bright, and I know you’ll succeed there. If you can’t decide today, that’s fine. I’ll wait two more weeks," the teacher replied with a smile.
"Alright, sir. Thank you," Clyde said.
The teacher motioned for Clyde to leave the room. Once outside, Clyde walked down the quiet corridor, empty since classes had already started, heading toward the exit. As he walked, his mind raced.
"I’m sorry, sir. It’s not that I don’t want it... I just don’t even know who I am... which is why I don’t really have any desires," Clyde said to himself.
Clyde walked sluggishly toward his classroom, feeling an overwhelming sense of detachment. He felt like the life he was living wasn’t actually his, even though he had loving parents, a childhood friend in Monica whom he had just saved from a speeding truck, and his friends at school. But none of it felt real, and he couldn’t make sense of his own emotions. He pressed a hand against his chest, stopped, and closed his eyes. He couldn’t feel a heartbeat at all, even after coming inches away from a lethal accident.
Opening his eyes to the quiet hallway, he ultimately decided against going to class, slipping out the side door into the courtyard garden to think. He sat down on a bench with his head bowed, his expression somber.
"I’m already a senior... but what comes after that? What do I actually want out of life? More importantly... is this life truly mine?" he questioned in his head.
While he was lost in thought, a sudden "pluk," a lifeless black crow fell right in front of him. Clyde froze at the sight of the bird, looking up before glancing down at the carcass in front of him. He stood up, squatted right beside the dead bird, and reached out a finger, gently poking the completely motionless crow.
"It’s dead," Clyde murmured in his head.
A strange feeling stirred deep inside him. His eyes twitched, scanning the dead bird as if analyzing it, "haaah," he gasped softly, his eyes sparkling with an eerie brightness. He reached both hands toward the carcass, but before his fingers could touch it, "tap," someone grabbed his shoulder. Clyde flinched and turned to see a middle-aged school custodian in uniform standing over him.
"What are you doing, kid? Just move aside and let me throw that away," the custodian said.
"Oh... r-right, sir," Clyde replied as he stood back up.
The custodian immediately swept up the crow carcass and put it into a plastic bag before carrying it away. Clyde stood frozen in place, staring at the plastic bag receding into the distance, when suddenly he gasped.
"W-what was I doing?" Clyde said in his heart.
Clyde sat back down on the bench and brooded, shaken by what he had almost done and the strange impulse that had overtaken him when he saw the carcass. He felt like he had desperately wanted to grab the dead bird, bite into it, and consume it. He shook his head violently, desperately pushing the thought away. His face turned pale with fear.
"Don’t go crazy, Clyde... why would you even think about that?" he thought.
"Ding... ding,"
The sound of an incoming notification chimed from his smartphone. He quickly pulled the phone from his pants pocket. The lock screen showed a photo of him with his parents and Monica at an amusement park when they were kids. Looking at the photo, Clyde’s feeling remained empty because he felt like the child in the picture wasn’t him. Then he saw two new message notifications that had just arrived.
He tapped the notification to open his messages, seeing one message from Monica asking why he hadn’t come to class, sent about five minutes earlier. Then he opened the second message and froze. The sender’s number was restricted, and the content was merely a voice message. His finger rose to press the play button on the screen, but before he could tap it,
"There you are!"
Clyde raised his head and saw Monica standing right in front of him with her hands on her hips, looking annoyed. She leaned down and grabbed Clyde’s hand.
"Let’s go inside! Why are you daydreaming out here? Tyler was looking for you earlier... hurry up before the bell rings!" Monica said crossly.
"Oh, alright. Sorry," Clyde replied, standing up.
Monica pulled Clyde by the hand as they walked back into the school building. Clyde slipped his smartphone back into his pocket, unaware that the voice message had been played, softly humming a melody sung by a girl.