142 The end of a dream 4 (1/2)

A memory came to me from deep inside.

Everything was still normal then. My father took care of me and my mother had not yet detested me.

When I was 7 years old, the world seemed much simpler. That day, I sneaked away from my tutor. I don't even remember why I did that back then.

I left the care of my villa and appeared in a world unlike my own. Here I was not the centre of events, so many different faces whose eyes were not on me.

A wide range of different emotions was reflected in their faces. Quite contrary to the monotonous facial expressions I was used to.

I did not pay attention to where I was going, I just followed the mass of people. They all ignored the little child that followed them. Everyone had their own worries and concerns and they were all too busy with themselves.

During my little trip, I discovered many things that were completely new to me. I, who grew up in a sheltered environment, came into contact with people, who were unlike everything I was used to. Their clothing looked so colourful to the young me. I did not notice the dirt or the creases.

My nostrils were flooded by countless smells I did not know of and I was overwhelmed by the loud noises. I tried to take it all in because I knew that I had to return to my old world sooner or later since I did not belong here.

While I was wandering amongst the crowd I heard 2 people loudly screaming at one another. I was drawn in by this new experience and my arrival came just at the right time. It is not every day someone inserts a knife over and over again into a body.

Most people walked onwards pretending not have seen anything. Some started crying and wailing, others just stared at the mangled body. On their faces appeared genuine shock and someone even puked seeing this cruel display.

Others made some photos with their handy, to capture this moment for all eternity. Yet, the men in question had not died fully. He lied there in writhing agony. He lifted his hand to search for help but no one bothered to.

Amongst all of them was me, just staring at my surroundings. I was not appaled by seeing the men in his last hours on earth, neither was I fascinated enough to continue staring at him. For me, all of this had been part of this foreign world.

Each and everyone had a different reaction to this man lying there. But regardless where I looked no one shared mine. Why was no else imagining how it would feel like to be in his body? What this not the most interesting part? My younger self was utterly confused. The vast difference in reactions was inexplicable to me.

When the police and EMTs finally arrived, they could only confirm the death of the man. Survival was out of the question after the body had been brutalized to such an extent. Yet the men had been clinging onto life till the bitter end.

I had been taught from early on that struggle against the natural order was futile. People are born with certain limitations placed on them. Be it talent, birth of origin, or lifespan. These shackles tied one down and breaking them was impossible.

So why did this man not give up, when the inevitable end was about to occur? I wanted to look at his face, to see the face of someone who persisted against his fate.

The blank look in his face, the widely opened eyes full of shock. The traces of blood that gave his face a red hue. A perfect example of a man who died full of regrets.

His end was a lonely one, everyone, he had reached out to ignored him and his ordeal. It was then I was apprehended by 2 strong hands and my trip came to a sudden end. Afterwards, I was harshly scolded for leaving without telling anyone.

It was only later on that I was taught, that the reaction everyone had shown were considered normal. I was advised not to think too deeply about it, as something like this could only happen to those of lower birth.

This was the lesson they tried to give me, but not the conclusion I drew. If such reactions are deemed normal, then it was me who was abnormal. This simple realisation was the cause of my downfall.

There were so many things I did not know about and I tried to learn about them at all cost. I watched movies, asked the personal questions about anything I did not understand. But I was always told off and the rumours about the strange child started to spread.

At that point in time, I had not become aware of exactly how abnormal I truly was. In my rush to experience everything, I enranged my parents and tutors alike. Their scolding continued until the very father chose to give up on the failure of a son.

I could understand their motivation for making such a decision but the emotions, they had shown were still something I could not imagine. From my observations, they were full of anger, disappointment and felt a tinge of regret as well. But what were those feelings, why did I not know how these emotions felt like?

I knew about hunger and pain. Signals the body gave off to inform the brain about something. Yet, anger, fear, regret was not like this. These emotions were not born from my body itself but were a result of the mind.

Even now I do not know the exact difference. Feelings like this are the result of a reaction of the brain. Happiness can be achieved by a hormone called dopamine. Serotonin, on the other hand, regulates our mood.

Our entire perception of the world is formed shaped by chemicals in our brains. Everything we feel is a product of our brain. Adrenalin for an emergency situation or endorphins to make the body forget about the pain.

Until now, I never felt something like this. So I started to think about how someone might feel and act accordingly. Yet, despite my best effort, I did not feel anything others were supposed to feel.

I tirelessly tried to invoke these feelings in me. Day in and day out I caused situations, that should stir emotions inside me but everything was to no avail.

Until one fateful day, I managed to achieve just that. I took my younger sister than me and ran away with her from our tutor. I tried to replicate the event I had seen back then. With my sister in hand, I appeared in that foreign world once more.