The sound of the fan on my ceiling was the only thing that broke the silence in my room. The blades spun aimlessly, like my head, like my life. It was noon, but the curtains were still closed, and the light was barely seeping through the edges of the curtains. My room had the scent of confinement, chips, food, sweat, a scent called loneliness. I sat in front of the screen, my eyes glued to a game that no longer interested me. My fingers moved by inertia on the keyboard, but my mind was elsewhere.
"Defeat," the screen said.
-Ha. Yes, I know," I mumbled without emotion.
I was 19 years old, just turned 19. I wasn't studying, as I had failed the entrance exam at the university I wanted to enter. And I wasn't working, as my depression didn't give me strength. In fact, my parents reminded me of that every day. "You're smart, Nihil, but you don't do anything with your life!" they used to say. And the worst part was that they were right. I felt like just another piece of furniture in this house.
My mother knocked on the door.
-Nihil, come down and eat! -she shouted.
-I'm not hungry.
- "That's enough! You can't go on like this! -Her voice trembled between frustration and concern.
Silence. Again.
I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The shadows of the blades cast like spinning blades. I thought about the past, about my failed attempts to find purpose in my life.
I wanted to be a musician, but I was really bad at singing and playing instruments.
- "But i'am creeep" - singing out of tune - "I'm a weirdoo" - badly tuned guitar sound.
I wanted to be an artist, but my drawings couldn't get good or gorgeous with a lot of detail even if I practiced for months.
I made videos to be a social media content creator, but my videos weren't getting popular, I wanted to be a professional gamer, but I was a horrible gamer, I wanted to be an actor, a director, pretty much everything. I would always start with excitement and end up frustrated that I didn't achieve something.
- "You're only 19 years old" - I said to myself.
But was it my fault, was it my parents' fault, was it society's fault, everyone was always pressuring me that I was already 19, that I should already be doing something, why, because there were young people my age, achieving a lot of things, singing, drawing, creating videos, and doing everything I can't do.
My cell phone vibrated. A Discord message. One of my online friends sent me a meme. I laughed a little. They and video games were the only ones that made me feel a little better. But still... it wasn't enough. There was only them. I had no friends in person. I wasn't going out. And the games were starting to get boring. I was alone. Existing.
I got up and opened the window. Outside, the world was still going on. People walking, cars honking, laughter, shouting, other people's lives moving on. And here I was, stuck in an eternal loop. And an idea came back to my head. One that I had rejected many times, but now it didn't seem so absurd: to end it all.
I wanted to fly. I always wanted to fly. For as long as I can remember I always liked to imagine I was a superhero, someone who could save the world, someone who had a purpose: to help those in need. To end rape, murder, injustice, world hunger, anything that would make the world a better place. As a child I wore capes made of sheets imitating comic book superheroes and imagined I had powers.
When I turned 16, my desire to be a great superhero grew, so I researched if in my world I could get powers to fulfill the purpose of being a hero.
I learned all the existing powers from comic book series and anime, but life is not a comic book. It is impossible to be a hero, in my world the natural rules do not allow it, to fly, I need to control gravity or mutate to grow wings, which is impossible.
Being a hero without powers, against bad people who have guns, is impossible. I was not a bulletproof superhero. I was just Nihil Shiro.
- "What if I fly for once?" -I asked myself quietly.
I googled the tallest building in my area. First on the list was the Vexoco Central Building. Closed to the public, open to an organized crime group. No one was going in. No one went out. It was perfect.
I spent the entire week researching the building. Creating a plan. I analyzed the times when there was movement. I found a blind spot in their routines. It was dangerous and risky. But what did it matter, the destination was the same, only without flying.
I was in my room arranging the last details of my plan, tomorrow was the day.
In my room, my brother walked in without knocking.
-Hey, in about 2 days is my graduation. Mom bought clothes for you. You're going, right?
I looked at him. His smile hurt me. It was everything I wasn't.
- "Yeah...sure."
-Great. I told Mom we'd take a special picture. Like the heroes in that comic book we like. With the fancy suits and everything. It's going to be epic, isn't it? -she laughed.
I nodded wordlessly. He walked away.
- "I have a plan to finish." -I said to myself.
I lay in bed, but I didn't sleep. I spent the whole night refining the details in my mind. Calculating every step I took down to the last detail. If I was going to do it, I had to do it right. I wanted to climb unseen. I wanted to fly...
The clock read 7:37 a.m.
"Today... it all ends," I whispered.
END OF CHAPTER 1.