creative spark 2020

Infelicity of His First and Last Love


- Sirasit (Mos) Prayotamornkul & Tirasit (Tan) Yingyongdumrongsakul -

This is a realm created by the god to serve as a gigantic
peaceful polychromatic garden. This realm is where love is never
thought to exist. This is the realm where there is no presence of
humans. This is a place of lush and luxuriant vegetation. Prolific
grasses and bushes are turquoise blue. Dazzling lights from the
sun barely shine through the dense canopies in the spacious
forest. Gorgeous blue leaves from special trees that are only found
in this realm carpet the rich warm soil. This beauteous place is well
known to all gods and mankind as Flechazo.

Flechazo is a place for all majestic species of trees. Among
these sumptuous trees, there is one precious individual that
immensely stands out because of its stunning appearance.
The height of this tree, compared to its surrounding neighbors, is

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extremely tall. It is very well-known across all the realms, and its
altitudinous apex reaches the height no different from the highest
mountain in Jotunheim. This towering tree has always been the
emperor of all other plant species. The jagged and irregular fruit
that the tree produces has lengthy thorns, which are as sharp as
a Tonbokiri Spear, that give the tree a ferocious look. This fierce-
looking fruit cannot possibly be any other than ‘durian’, which is the
name given by the god due to its gigantic size and fragrant smell
that aromatically arises the appetite of the god.
This realm has always been silent until the god decides to
create an abnormal fruit tree. A tree which unintentionally produces
the most idiosyncratic fruit of all species. This tree contains dark
drab brown acicular leaves, bright red spiky roots that emerge
from the soil, and a short thick vantablack trunk. This bizarre looking
tree, unlike others, is incomparable to those of magnificence in the
bluish forest. Despite its hideous characteristics, it is ridiculously
located on a wide arid steppe outside the forest, where soil is
sterile and no crop is able to grow. This unattractive tree produces
a goofy distinctive fruit that no one has ever seen. The god names
this peculiar, round, red fruit as ‘apple’.

“Ciao!,” yells the apple. “Can anyone hear me?”
There is nothing but silence that surrounds the apple.
The whole plain area is noiseless and peaceful. The only sounds
hearable are wind and water splashing down from a waterfall on
the side of an enormous rugged mountain found a few kilometers
away from the unpretty apple tree.

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The feeling of being isolated and alone causes the apple to
notice that he needs a companion to help cure his loneliness.
It may have been only a fortnight since this apple was germinated
but the apple itself feels that it has been living alone for hundreds
of years. The fact that this apple has no peers is due to the barren
location of the apple tree and the fruit’s hideous features. There is
literally nothing more awful than its appearance. Its weird round
body is rugged and is filled with deep holes which shoot out smelly
slimy juice when it is terrified by something. Its pale bloody red
color and heavily bruised marks on the body cause it to look similar
to a rotten apple hanging from a branch waiting for the day it falls.
All organisms in Flechazo that mistakenly come near this tree and
detect its disgusting fruit regularly change their direction and
proceed away from it; therefore, he has never been able to build a
single alliance with anyone.

Not a single organism accepts friendship between itself
and the apple. However, on this specific day, an old violet potoo
bird glides along and lands on the brittle branch of the remote
apple tree. It has a ridiculously silly pair of eyes that are as massive
as golf balls along with an enormous body and intimidating wings.
Because of this, it has the reputation across the realm for being the
most bizarre-looking bird in the entire realm.
“Hey, you! You rotten apple, can I feed on you?” asks the
potoo bird questionably.

“No, no, no, no! Please don’t! I beg you. I can offer you
anything, but please do not eat me as your meal,” begs the fearful

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apple, as it shoots out smelly slimy juice out of its holes because of
its terror of the enormous bird.
“I have been absolutely starving for days. An aged potoo
like myself cannot live long without food to feed on.”

“You know something? I have never seen a gorgeous bird
like you before. Your beauty is out of this world! Your purple
feathers are as glamorous as amethyst,” praises the apple, trying
to not get eaten.

“Stop being sarcastic and trying to be a people pleaser!
Just answer me, can I eat you now?” yelled the potoo, but this time
with a more tempered and serious look.
The fact that the apple sees that the bird is dying of hunger
and can barely fly causes it to empathize and influences its decision
to let the bird feed on its thick bloody red peel.

“Alright, calm down big bird. I will offer you to eat my peel
but on one condition only! You will have to --”
At this moment, the bird thrusts its head toward the apple
and starts pecking on its dry red peel, without actively listening to
the condition that comes with the substantial offer. As he pecks on
the apple’s peel, the pecking becomes more forceful and cruel.
“Ouch! Relax and eat slowly please. You realize this does
hurt, don’t you?” shouts the poor apple.

“Thank god! I have not had a chance to eat like this for
days!” claims the greedy potoo.

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“Hey, you ravenous bird, stop eating and talk with me for a
moment, will you?” shrieks the apple fiercely, since it is running out
of patience.
“Fine. What is it that you want?” moans the bird as it is
waiting to continue its precious meal.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in your flock? Why do you seem
to be extremely hungry? And by the way, what is your name?”
curiously asks the apple.

This shocks the bird for a while, but when the bird is able to
put together his words and retains his consciousness, he replies,
“Well, my actual name given to me by my parents is ‘Kiki’. I was
once in a flock of my very own species, in which everyone had to
obey our gigantic ferocious leader whose name was ‘Kane’. He was
twice the size of me and was more fearsome than anything in this
realm. Whatever he demanded must be delivered to him within a
day; otherwise, the member whom he gave the order to would be
fired from the potoo flock. He was a horrible leader who lacked
sympathy for each member of the flock. Despite his egocentric
behaviour, every potoo in the flock still supported and stayed
obedient as always.”
The apple listens thoroughly to Kiki’s story, as he continues,
“One day, Kane heard about this delectable fruit, called durian,
located in the woods. His powerful position resulted in him feeling
superior, and so he could do anything he wanted just for his own
good. Without any hesitation, he commanded everyone in the flock
to do whatever it took to bring the durian to him. Right after the

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command had been given, every single potoo rushed toward the
colossal durian tree right in the middle of the bluish forest.
In everyone’s mind, there was the intention to fulfill Kane’s will; as
a result, determination filled the hearts of all members, but this
did not last long. When members of the flock finally arrived at the
towering tree and collided with the durian fruit, they seemed to
underestimate the sharpness of the durian’s long spiky thorns; as
a result, the thorns pricked right into everyone’s feet and body,
causing instant death to almost every intruder.”

“Achoo!” sneezes the apple. “Sorry to interrupt, my dear
friend. Please continue your engrossing story.”
“That was ear-piercing, you silly apple!” shouts the bird.
“Whatever, let’s resume. Wait, where were we?”

“I can’t remember as well. I believe you were saying that
your flock collided with the durian. Am I right?” asks the apple
confusedly.

Kiki regains his memory and continues “Oh yeah, almost all
of my friends were pricked by the spiky durian thorns. However,
due to my lack of ability to fly swiftly and rapidly, I was way back
from the flock and saw everything. Instead of colliding like how
the others did, I made a sharp turn and headed back to Kane
immediately. Not very far from where I made the turn, I saw Kane
clapping his wings madly from far away. I was afraid that he would
kill me if I returned to him with nothing, so I decided to fly away
from him and tried to keep out of his sight. I have escaped for
about a month now, and it is a valuable lesson to acknowledge the
significance of living in a flock; however, I desperately cannot

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return to him. I was flying around looking everywhere for food
during the past few days until I have met you now.”

“Wow! Well that’s a long story. I am sorry for you, brother,”
consoles the apple.
“Now, let me ask you before continuing to eat your delicious
peel. What is your name, little red apple?” inquires Kiki.
The little red apple answers, “Oh well, I actually don’t have

a real name, but I love to call myself ‘Arifofo’. I don’t have a
background though, simply because I was born just two weeks ago.
That is as long as I can recall.”

“Well, Arifofo, now that you have saved my life, what do
you wish in return? What is the condition in exchange?” interrogates
Kiki.

“Uhhhhh, you mentioned Durian, didn’t you? So you
definitely must know where she is and what her name is, right?”
inquires Arifofo in a shaky voice.
“Of course, yes. Her well-known name is ‘Resha’. Some call

her ‘The Barbarous Resha’ due to her savagely cruel thorns.”
“Ummm… Okay.”

“What’s wrong? Do you have something to do with this
monstrous fruit?”
“You know what? Because you are my first and only friend,
I will tell you my deepest top secret which may sound very strange
and creepy.”

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“Whatever. Go on. Explain to me your ‘deepest top secret’.”

“Well…” begins Arifofo, “I think I may have fallen in love
with this fruit who you claim has killed almost your entire flock.
I am fond of staring at her attractive movements from here. Even
though she is distant, I can feel the presence of her nearby at all
times.”

“Wait a minute! Stop that atrocious idea of yours, she is
a cruel demon!” warns Kiki.

“That may be true to you, but I know for a fact that
Resha’s smile always cheers me up when I am lonely, and it seems
to display that she is a genuine lovely fruit,” argues Arifofo.
The caring bird informs Arifofo, “Fine, fine. It is up to you

brother. I have warned you once and this will be the last time.”
He resumes uninterruptedly by asking, “If that was your top
secret, then what is it that you want me to do?”

Arifofo stubbornly importunes Kiki, “Please go to tell her
that I love her. I beg you. Please, Kiki. I really do wish her to
acknowledge my love and care for her. Please implore her to
recognize me who lives on this remote tree.”

“For god’s sake, I will never do that,” denies Kiki. “I wish
I could assist you, but I’d rather die of aging than to die of going
near her and getting pricked by her thorns.”
Arifofo shrieks, “Whoa, do never forget that you owe me a
favour. You can’t leave me hanging high like this! You must do as
I say!”

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“Ahhh! Fine! A promise is a promise. I will do it for you, but
I will keep my range from her,” mutters Kiki.
“Thank you, my best mate! I really do appreciate your
compassion,” yells Arifofo joyously.

Right at this moment, Kiki decides to fly toward his
destination in order to fulfil his friend’s wish. The longer he glides
through the cool breeze, the closer he gets to Resha. Fear and
trepidation begin to invade Kiki’s mind. All of a sudden, as he
reaches the bluish forest, he immediately turns around and flies
away in neither the direction of Arifofo’s tree nor the enormous
mountain.
It has been two days since Arifofo sent Kiki flying toward
Resha in order to inform her of his love. Literally, nothing has been
updated for Arifofo. No news has come back from any source, and
his best friend, Kiki, is nowhere to be found.

After weeks of waiting, Arifofo now starts to tremble for no
specific reason. He feels as if gravity is pulling him down toward
the core of the Earth, and that he is loosely hanging from the branch
of the hideous apple tree. He breathes heavily and suddenly he
falls out of the branch and hits the ground hard. He is even more
bruised by now and looks more rotten than ever. He thinks to
himself, “If I am able to pull off what I am planning to do, then
I will successfully fulfil my dream!” He begins to roll his body over
and over and over again. With determination, he never stops doing
so, and finally reaches the trunk of the towering durian tree in the
bluish forest.

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“This is too good to be true! I made it! I actually made it!”
shouts Arifofo in an extremely loud voice.
“Hey, Resha. Are you up there? I have something to
confess to you. I love you, Resha! I have always loved you and will
do forever!” yells Arifofo, alerting his lover.

Resha looked down and screamed “Who is it down there?
I don’t feel so good up here. I think I am getting pulled down by
something! Anyone, please help me!”
As both fruits communicate back and forth, Resha
eventually falls down from the extraordinarily high durian tree. She
reaches the warm soil so rapidly and hastily with blistering speed.
Unfortunately, she lands on Arifofo with her long spiky thorns that
are well-known to have victimized a lot of creatures in the past.




*Flechazo - “feeling that you have been struck by cupid’s arrow
(when you have an intense connection with someone)”

Purple



Hyacinth




















- Jiratchaya (Ing) Puapornpong -


I recalled that evening clearly, I was lying on my bed in my
room, gazing up at the white ceiling. By the age of 57, I became
powerless. Luxian, the demon emperor, who was also my husband,
sat beside my bed, tempted and afraid as he held on to my boney,
wrinkled hands. His appearance had not changed since the day
that I met him, still in his impeccable scarlet clothes with his long
black hair tied up. He has always been a cheerful person. But
today, there was not even a hint of a smile on his face. His usually
sparkly red eyes darken in melancholy as he watched me wilt
slowly. It was unsettling. I could read him easily that he did not want
me to go. After a few minutes of silent, out of the blue, Luxian
suddenly stood up. His tall body overshadowed me.

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“Yangbei.” He lightened up and spoke. “I remembered!
Spiritual energy can hold a soul to the body” His eyes started to
sparkle as he spoke. “What if. What if I give you my spiritual
energy? Then, I can keep your soul attached. And then. Then, you
can stay with me! Even longer than your lifespan!” Luxian’s voice
became louder, hopeful, and as cheerful as how I had remembered
him. Luxian inherited the ancient demonic bloodline gave him an
extremely long lifespan and an unimaginable amount of spiritual
energy, so he thought that giving some of it to me won’t hurt much.
I knew where this was going. I agreed with Luxian’s
statement, but I knew, as time passes, more spiritual energy would
be required to keep the soul attached. The more spiritual energy
used, the weaker the donor would become.

Back in my bed I was about to decline, but then, I hesitated.
A thought came to me, a foolish thought that lead to my regretful
decision. I thought to myself: “If I accepted the plan, what would
I lose? Nothing. I would get to stay with Luxian, just like how we
wanted to.” Dark things started growing within me. “That would be
great” I accepted Luxian’s offer. Those words later tasted like
poison.
The first ten years passed in a blink of an eye. Every day,
I woke up with Luxian by my side. He kissed me gently, despite the
fact that my face was no longer young and beautiful. Luxian would
walk to the main palace while I stayed in my room during the day,
resting. My body had not stopped aging. Luxian would return from
work in the evening, looking tired or unhappy at first, and lightened
up after he had seen my face. Luxian would cook us dinner. It was

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delicious. Before going to bed, he would point his index finger at
my arm. Small yellow sparkles would come out of it and weave into
a golden string. One end attached to his finger, the other end at
me. It felt warm and peculiarly relaxed as Luxian transferred his
spiritual energy to me.

Another three decades had passed since the end of my
natural lifespan. My vision and hearing start to become blurry, but
still good. It was much more difficult to walk. I slept during most of
the days. The pain in my back was very annoying. Luxian was still
smiling as he transferred his spiritual energy to me every day, but
I noticed that it took a bit longer. Overall everything was good, we
continued our daily routine, starting with a kiss in the morning and
a meal in the evening.

After another fifty years had passed, Luxian told me that
I sometimes slept for an entire week or an entire month. I could no
longer go for walks nor sat properly at the dining table. I became
thinner and more wrinkled. Breathing was tiring. My hair grew
whiter and longer every day. Luxian was the one who trimmed
them. Only the blurry Gingko tree outside was visible, its colours
changed along with the passing seasons. One time, it was green,
the other, yellow, red, and sometimes, none. Communication was
difficult.
Another hundred years had passed, all was dark and quiet.
Telepathy was my only way to connect to the world and all I could
hear was Luxian. He told me that he missed me every time I woke
up. I caressed his face weakly. The only things that signaled my
existence were: the weak scent of frankincense, Luxian’s

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flavorsome soup, his warm hands, and the tingling feelings from
the spiritual energy.
“Yangbei” A familiar voice called me.

“Yangbei, you’re awake!” Luxian. God knows how long has it
been since I last regained consciousness. My eyes feel weird.
Is that light? That’s impossible.
“Yangbei, try opening your eyes” Luxian sounded strangely
excited. Open my eyes? Why?

Confused, slowly, my sealed eyelids managed to flutter.
I gasped. Who would have thought that the world could be so
bright and so beautiful? Tears fell down my sunken eyes. I was in
my favourite green dress and my hair was tied up properly. My
eyes explored the room before it paused at Luxian. He still looked
the same except…

“Luxian, why do you have bandages on your eyes?”
I asked, quivering. Luxian smiled and remained silent.
“Why, why Luxian? How could you’ve done this?”

“It was my own decisions and I don’t regret it.” Luxian
fidgeted nervously with his slender fingers.

I broke down. Luxian embraced me and helped me to sit
up. “I know, I couldn’t stop you and your stubbornness, but you
could have just given me one eye!.”
“I wanted what's best for you and you’ve just got the eyes

of the most powerful demon in the kingdom!”

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We no longer spoke. I noticed that Luxian looked paler and
thinner. I spotted a small tint of red at the corner of his mouth. What
happened to him? Had he been coughing up blood? I was about
to ask him before I heard the leaves rustled. I froze and looked at
Luxian. With shaking hands, I knocked on the wooden bed edge.
Luxian did not turn. No. Luxian, what have you done? Before
I could utter another word, Luxian holds my fragile hands and
widen his smile.

“Soon, Yangbei. Soon, you will be able to walk and sit again.
Yangbei? Why are you crying? Are you alright?” I could not answer.
The room was silent for Luxian, but not for me. Not anymore.

I opened my eyes again. It was the morning of the late
autumn of an unknown year. This time, Luxian was in a wheelchair.
His face looked far too pale and thin. There were dark marks under
his sealed shut eyes. His cheekbones were visible. He looked as if
he was dying. He smiled at me weakly with his fainted lips, still
somewhat cheerful. The gentle afternoon light illuminated his back.

Luxian left for work with a servant pushing his wheelchair.
It made an awfully painful creaky sound. I got up, my feet touched
the cool floor for the first time in hundreds of years. The shivering
feelings animated my nostalgia. For once, I stood up and decided
to go for a walk. It was supposed to be a beautiful day with the red
leaves and clear sky, but why didn’t I enjoyed it? I started walking.

“I am worried about his majesty.” A woman’s voice came
across my ears. I stopped walking, it must have been the servants.
“Me too. What’s gotten into him?” Another voice came.

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“It must have been that dreadful human.”

“Keep it quiet! Or our heads will be detached. You know how
much the emperor loves his partner.”
“Don’t stop me! The king’s surely gone nuts. First, he
married a man, which means he has no heir. Secondly, he broke the
law of nature! Everyone knows that expanding one’s lifespan,
prevent death from doing its job, is just wrong. Hell and heaven
are not happy about this. Next, he sacrificed his eyes and hearing.
And now he had just given away his spine and legs. All for that one
pathetic creature. What had that creature done to you
O’- GREAT- KING?”

“Keep it down, will you?”

“How can I keep it down? How? You tell me.”
I ran. I didn’t even know why. I could no longer hear the rest
of the conversation. Maybe because it was too far away or maybe
because I did not want to. Soon, I was back in my room, hidden
and shaken under my blanket. I clenched my fist and bit my lip.

“Why do you servants even care? All of this was Luxian’s decision,
not mine. He offered me those things and I accepted his
generosity. I just wanted to stay by Luxian’s side.” I tried my best
to comfort myself with my revolting thoughts. The efforts were all in
vain.
I hid until the sun returned to the soil and the sky dyed itself
dark. I was dead tired, but I could not sleep. There were no more
tears left. The feeling of guilt, sorrow, anger, and confusion clogged

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my throat. Emptiness. Suddenly, I felt a flash of pain in my head.
Then, as if my thoughts were kept in a dam. A dam that came down
by the words of mere servants. All the thoughts that I had been
trying to avoid, the ones that were kept at the back of my head, the
truths that I had been denying drowned me.

Trapped in my mind, I finally realized. I knew it all along. All
of the offering, all the sacrifices, the pain, the suffering that me and
Luxian had gone through was all because of me. If I had stopped
Luxian. If I had declined that offer and accepted the law of nature,
none of this would have happened. I realized that I was full of
greed. All I ever did was take more and more. Luxian gave me his
everything and look at how I repaid him. I had not helped him. I had
not stood by his side when he needed me the most. Luxian, my
dear Luxian. I know well about your sincere feelings. I know well
about your childish mind and yet, I stabbed you in the back.
I betrayed those feelings. I have sinned. I am an abominated. The
servants were right. They had been right all along. My hands were
bloodied. I laughed. I screamed at my pitifulness. After all. After all
the years I lived far from humans, I am still no different.

Another thought came across my already crazed psych.
What if? What if I am gone? Luxian. Luxian may be happy again.
If I died, these organs, these abilities would return to its rightful
owner. Luxian would be well again. He would not have to suffer or
live with such a disgusting creature anymore. I did not deserve him
and he deserves better. And maybe. Maybe he would accept my
atonement. Maybe he would forgive me. Yes. That’s right. I spotted
a dagger on the shelf. It was the one that Luxian got for me when

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we met the first time. On that day, it was snowing as well. I found
Luxian wounded, broken in the snow just outside my shack. He
used to be a heartless demon who had never even felt the warmth
of his parents. I healed him, taught him how to love, and to be free.
With me, he became the man whom I love. Those bittersweet days
could never be returned now. That dagger looked the same. It was
neatly polished and tenderly taken care of, obviously by Luxian.
I pulled the dagger out of its sheath. I’ve already taken much, it’s
time for me to give back. I no longer felt pain as I held the dagger
to my chest. “Forgive me Luxian. From now on, you are free.”
The first snow of the year fell.

“Guys! I have an astounding story to tell.” A servant walked
up to his peers.
“Have you heard? Last night, his majesty’s organs were
back!”

“I’ve heard it too. There were golden sparkles all over the
place! The witnesses said that it was almost heavenly” Another
servant joined in.

“Oh, oh! I was in the scene! We were at a meeting at
twilight. Suddenly, there were these sparks that lifted the
emperor up. It flashed, almost blinding me. When our vision
returned, his majesty was on his feet, back in his majestic form.
Can you believe it? HE’S BACK! He opened his eyes. I thought that
I ain’t be seeing those pair of formidable eyes again.” The other
servants listened in wonder.

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“Then, he rushed out of the hall, just like that. No one
followed him out though.”
“Why didn’t anyone follow him? Shouldn’t the servants be
escorting his majesty out?”

“Nobody dared. His majesty, he was… He was crying.”
Outside of the palace, in the white and cold garden, a tall
figure stood. He wore expensive red silk clothes. His long black
hair flowed along his back. He looked extremely majestic, even
from the back. The snow was falling and the temperature
plummeted. The man had not moved. He just stood there, like a
statue, next to a neatly carved jade coffin with golden lining.
It seemed almost as if he was chained to it. His eyes were empty.
He was waiting for someone to answer his questions, guide him,
and rescue him from this hell. Unfortunately, his wait could never
end.

For the
greater good…





- Pacharasorn (Luksorn) Thummachote -

Disappointment was felt the moment he opened his eyes.
Right, Henry thought. He was still in the Slytherin dorms. He hastily
made his bed, warded his trunks against any snooping attempts,
and shuffled his legs to the common room.
'Evans,' Riddle called. Henry ignored it and walked out to
the dungeon halls, accidentally slamming the door shut. He
grimaced.

Great. Another day as a bloody Slytherin. How he dearly
wished to return to the tower and the comfort of the Gryffindor
dorms right now.
Stupid time travel.

Breakfast went by as it had for the past two weeks he had
shown up here, bar the three days he had to spend in the infirmary
from his injuries he got in the Department of Mysteries. He had no
idea what happened to his friends, or even those who fought
against him, but he did not exactly want to spend time pondering

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over insane sycophantic followers of a murderer of all people. The
last of what he considered family, gone. It still hurt to look at his
dead — no, murdered — godfather’s predecessors, now that he
had to spend time with them.

The 1940s were different in ways he hadn’t imagined. The
never known-of-but-never-experienced type. It was how the
purebloods openly sneered at the mere idea of non-magical
people, muggles, existing; or how the muggleborn students
cowered, knowing no one would come to their defence when
harassed; or how the entire student used or at least tolerated the
term mudblood, a slur, found in every casual conversation about
the 'disgusting muggles bred to steal our magic,' Abraxas Malfoy
often said. Half of these actions would have ended with expulsion
in his time.

He was fighting for his life during an attack before time
turner dust somehow poured over him, so when he first arrived
here with blood covering his entire being, he planned to stay out of
attention. Really.

That plan went out the window the moment that damned
Sorting Hat decided it was a jolly good idea to put him in Slytherin
instead of Gryffindor. He was currently Henry Evans, a muggleborn,
as it brought the least questions of his heritage. So, a muggleborn
who just somehow started to exist out of nowhere being put in
Slytherin, the house that detested everything muggle. That just did
not happen. That was stereotyping for the most part, but it held true
to a far extent. He groaned. Why can't I just disappear?

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He'd rather be anywhere than beside the snobby
purebloods trying and failing to bully him with buggering Tom
Marvolo Riddle taking interest in his being for some reason. That
was Lord Voldemort in the making. He didn't want to be near the
man (boy?)'s proximity, nor the many familiar faces of murderers in
his time still in their youth.

Circe help him.
Circe? God, he was starting to sound like them.

Henry tapped his foot impatiently in potions class. Slughorn
was running late, forcing the class to sit and wait. This would have
been fine, if not for the fact that Riddle was trying to talk to him.
'Something on your mind?' Riddle regarded.

'None of your business.'
'Henry,' a warm smile. 'I am merely worried of your well-
being. It is common courtesy to look out for our fellow peers, is it
not?' He internally snorted. A for effort on sincerity.

'I don't remember ever allowing you to call me by my first
name, Riddle.' His expression morphed into something colder. Not
as good at manipulating me as you thought, huh? Henry resisted
a tug at the corner of his lips. He sneered at Riddle instead.

Henry turned away as Slughorn walked in when Riddle was
glowering, saving Henry from his increasing annoyance. If it weren't
for the fact that Henry had constant attention from the professors,
the only people aware of his time travel, he didn't doubt he would

221



have suffered gravely from Riddle's…retributions. Their hawk eyes
followed his actions and interactions. Riddle didn't want suspicion,
though that didn't stop his taunts in some moments. His pride and
ego were almost tangible — it'll bring him to his demise — and
Henry knocked a leg off it daily. He was lucky Riddle couldn't touch
him.

As the class went on, Henry took his mind off the boring
subject to think about this whole thing. During the past weeks he
did not really have time to think about what he could do here,
spending most of his hours avoiding interactions (which he failed
at atrociously) and figuring out how he might even dream to get
back to his time. Maybe I'm here for a reason. Random scenarios
started popping up in his mind. Am I here to kill Lord Voldemort?
Henry chuckled at the absurdity.

The thought lingered.
The day ended on the same stale note. The World War
gripping the fear of muggleborns, to the purebloods' dismissal.
Grindelwald still spreading dark magic propaganda somewhere in
France. The suffering of muggles from bombings countrywide.
Hogwarts as a whole being ignorant to it all, floating in bliss.
This was where Riddle's face irked him the most. They were
blind to the danger looming within the castle walls. He counted the
faces he'd remember as dead not even forty years from now. The
magnificent feast seemed even less appetizing than it already was.
He kept thinking back to potions. Maybe it did make sense.

222



Whatever he planned to do at first, his ideas definitely did
not involve literally walking to Riddle's murder chamber. Voluntarily
at that. He wasn't even calling it that ironically. From what his
memory supplied, Riddle had used his basilisk, a giant serpent
that killed with its stare, to murder a muggle-born by the name of
Myrtle Warren in his fifth year.

In Henry's time, some fifty years in the future from where he
was currently, Riddle had used the same chamber to almost kill
Ginevra Weasley, whom of which thankfully Henry had saved just
in time. And this wasn't including the petrification of multiple
students both in the 1940s and Henry's time. He still remembered
Hermione, one of his best friends, laying on the ground, body stiff
as stone. They thought the petrified students dead when they had
first found them.

Henry also remembered himself being blamed for that.
He scowled at the reminder.

He had reached the second floor's girl's lavatory. Salazar
Slytherin, one of the school's four founders, had built his chambers's
entrance at this very spot, using the humongous pipes of Hogwart's
plumbing system. He didn't bloody know why. Pushing the
irrelevant thought aside, he focused back on the task at hand.
Henry started recounting facts he knew about the chamber. First,
he had to find the sink with the snap shaped tap. Found it. Then, he
had to speak parseltongue, the language of snakes, saying 'Open.'
The floor started cracking, moving the sinks with them to the side
to reveal a deep dark endless hole to the bottom. Henry internally

223



groaned. He hated having to jump down, even if the freefall did not
hurt him. It felt like plunging to one's death nonetheless. This didn't
even count what was waiting for him in the chamber, he thought
with a frown.

Inside the chamber was where Salazar Slytherin kept his
pet basilisk. Many speculated its purpose was to rid the school of
muggle-borns. Counterproductive, Henry thought. Its stare killed
no matter what. Truly, had there not been any casualties that
involved purebloods being killed? More importantly, was he going
to die this day from a sodding basilisk stare. He really hoped not,
jumping down into the enveloping darkness.

When he finally reached the sealed inner chamber, he took
a deep breath. This is it. Opening the door, he stood in front of the
giant statue. He looked at the statue's mouth, where the opening
was shutting.
In parseltongue, he called, 'Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest
of the Hogwarts Four!' There was rumbling, then the stone moved,
revealing a dark cave. He could hear the serpent slithering within,
drawing closer each second.
'Who dares,' he heard it say. With all the magic he could
muster, Henry summoned hell's fire to scorch the whole entirety of
the cave. Giant fangs formed as flames, hollow eyes burned
crimson, another spark of fire erupted. As the cave shook, the
basilisk battled against the intense heat, that threatened to destroy
the cave's barely held together structure.

224



The basilisk was definitely out of the cave already, seeing
as the shadow of its form was fully out, not quite succumbing to its
demise yet. Its writhing form could be seen in glimpses where the
fire burned colder before Henry pushed in surges of his magic.

A little more, Henry clenched his teeth. Only a bit,
he screamed as he pushed harder, his voice foreign to his ears.
After an agonizing ten minutes, it finally stilled. Henry
collapsed in exhaustion, the echoing battle between voices, the
chaos, heat and falling stones now silent.

He steadied himself, wiping the ash away from his forehead.
Basilisk bone was strong, he assessed. It was strong enough to not
disintegrate even with the heat of hell's fire. The skeleton of the
once great basilisk of Slytherin lay on the chamber's ground. It was
that moment Tom Marvolo Riddle walked in.

Livid.

'Shit,' his face soured at the notice of Henry. Henry felt like
slamming his head against the wall. Why on earth did he say that
out loud? How was Riddle even here? Why did he have to come
now?

'What did you do?' he snarled.
'Er…erm…I…er…’

Run.
'EVANS!' Riddle raised his wand in a swift motion, all
pleasantries of the past weeks gone, sent the killing curse at Henry.
'AVADA KEDAVRA!'

225



Henry jumped out of the way just in time.
Panic.

'CRUCIO!' Riddle screamed. Henry ducked from the
torturing curse and ran, a string of cussing flooding out of him.
'INCARCEROUS!' He barely dodged that one.
'EXPELLIARMUS!' The disarming spell was blocked by
a non-verbal shield. Henry had completely forgotten Riddle was
a master at that. Curses followed him as he ran and ducked. The
chamber was an open structure, giving him fewer and fewer
options to hide. He was close to hyperventilation. He could feel it,
each breath shortening and becoming more rapid. He had to do
something. Anything. Now.

The structure he was hiding behind started to collapse.
He ran out from beneath, with bated breath, turned directly to
Riddle's form.

'AVADA KEDAVRA!' he shouted. A moment before the
green light reached Riddle's form, Henry saw his eyes widen. His
own eyes weren't much different.

And then Riddle's eyes glazed over. A moment of silence
rang for what felt like hours. Henry slumped over with a shaking
sigh. Riddle was dead. Was he dead? Yes. Tom Marvolo Riddle
was dead. Riddle was dead before there even was a Dark Lord
Voldemort. It was done. There would be no war, no genocide, no
more loss in the wizarding world.

226



And that was rather anticlimactic. For Riddle — Lord
Voldemort — to be defeated so easily after his many attempts to kill
Henry. It did not make sense in many ways.
After catching another breath, he looked up to the sight of
the actual dead body of Riddle. He had to look away.

In some ways, that wasn't Lord Voldemort. Not really.
But it would have been, his mind supplied. It didn't really
help. Somehow, the thought that plagued his mind was different
from reality. Was there such a thing as an upset empty stomach?
Bile rose in his throat.
A child — he finally came to the decision. He had killed
a child. Tom Marvolo Riddle, yes, but still a child.

No.
He felt sick.in

He probably would have thrown up if it weren't for the
consequences of his meddling catching up at the very moment.

Henry watched with tired eyes as his hands disintegrating
slowly into dust. This was a just punishment for meddling with time
— and murder, he preferred to add. But even if he didn't accept
this fate, what could he do? He did not exist. Not anymore.
The past changed, and with that, the future. Voldemort would not
exist. He, himself, wouldn't be who he was now.
His sight started to cloud with dark spots.

The world turned black, and then he was gone.

227



Epilogue
James and Lily were married once. In 1979. It seemed
unlikely, with them being rivals during their school days. Their
wedding was a joyous event, laughter and pure happiness filling
the air.

They had a child, too. They named him Harry Potter. His hair was
messy and ink-black like James Potter. His eyes were bright
emerald, like Lily Evans’.

'A time traveler?'

'Yes, Professor. I would have to have an alias, no? The
Potters only have one direct line, with Fleamont Potter being the
sole heir. I don't exist. Not yet. It would bring too many questions.'

'Why, yes. Of course. That can be handled.'
'Actually, Professor, I've already thought of one,' Harry
grinned.

'In this fateful year of 1942, I would like you all to welcome
a transfer student!' Headmaster Dippet announced in excitement.
'He will be joining as a fifth-year student.' Dippet turned to Harry.
'Henry Evans,' a thin-lipped smile. 'A pleasure to meet you all.'

Outdated







- Siwat (Art) Rakngan -

It was an early morning of September 9 , 2019. The sun
th
was shining brightly as cotton-like clouds flew through the azure
sky. I was driving on an unpaved road quite far from the city. Alone
in my car, I let my thoughts wander. I recalled my past three weeks
in which I had ventured out into the lush jungles of Namoza,
surveyed the barren wastelands of Ashara, and traversed the
snowy terrains of Wanoda. Great scenery. Took a lot of photos. But
not memorable. I’d seen these places so often that they became
mundane. Uninteresting. Driving past the green meadows,
I yearned for an experience that would spark my explorer soul.

Two hours had gone by, and it became more difficult to
drive. Fog thickened over this area. I could barely see the path
ahead, if there was any. Why am I traveling in the first place? Why
don’t I just work in my hometown? Suddenly, I felt lighter and
lighter… and SPLASH!

229



I woke up and was greeted by the face of a middle-aged man.
He was dark-skinned, well-built and had an apparent scar on his
forehead. He was wearing loose clothing made of fabric and
appeared excited about something.

“Look, Alesha. He has opened his eyes,” the man said,
glancing at the woman standing to the right of him. She was
wearing similar clothing but also a necklace and earrings.
“Oh, thank goodness. He’s alive!” the woman exclaimed.
“We should get him something to eat, Joshua.”

“Sure, you tell the kids to behave properly. I’ll go get the
supplies.”
I wasn’t fully conscious yet. I felt pain throughout my body
but especially on the head. See, it’s better not to be an explorer.

The man quickly returned with a plate of chicken and rice,
a glass of water, and a first-aid kit. I was still lying on my back.
“Where am I?” I asked.

“You are in the town of Mutiara,” the man replied. “You just
suffered a big injury, did you know that?”
“Probably,” I told him, observing the bruise on my right arm.
“But why am I here?”

“We were riding around the town when we noticed a car
floating in the river. Most of it was underwater, but a small part
was visible. We saw you in the car. We guessed you were
unconscious and didn’t remember us. Luckily, the river was

230



obstructed by a bridge. We rushed to it and got you out of the
car. We’re glad you’re safe.”
How did I fall into the river? What was I doing?

“I’m indebted to you and your family. Thank you so much.
I’ll be sure to repay you.”

“No problem,” he said. “Have some food and water.
You need energy.”

I smiled and started to sit up properly, feeling pain in my
lower back.
“My name’s Joshua. Who’re you?” he asked curiously.

“I’m Aiden,” I answered. “I’m an explorer.”
“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. Keep driving and eventually I’ll reach
a destination. ‘Follow the wind,’ my dad once told me.”
As we were conversing, I began to look around the house.
It was small but not exactly what you’d call ramshackle. It had
a simple layout: three beds, mattresses, a carpet, a clock, some
ornaments hanging on the walls, and most notably, a landscape
picture of the family. Gazing out the windows, I spotted several
single-story houses just like this one. There were double-story
ones, but only a few. In the distance, many people gathered in front
of a particular building, possibly a shop. I also saw cows and
buffaloes grazing in the grassy fields. The settlement seemed both
rural and urban at the same time.

231



The woman came back and sat next to Joshua. Trailing
behind her were two kids. The tall, pale one was walking politely,
while the chubby one was playfully giggling.
“We’re so grateful to have you with us safe and sound,”
the woman stated. “I’m Alesha. These are our two sons: Michael
and Peter.” She turned around to her sons and told them, “Boys,
this gentleman is Aiden, the injured explorer. Say hello to him.”
The boys greeted me with a lively expression on their faces.
I picked up the fork and started eating the chicken. It was
delicious.

“I’ll need to get going soon,” I said. “Probably in less than an
hour.”
“I don’t think your body is ready. Let yourself recover for
a couple more days, okay?” Alesha suggested. “We promise to
take good care of you.”

“We don’t want you to be at risk,” Joshua added.
I reluctantly nodded.

Staying with them for two days, I started growing attached
to the family. I got to know all of them quite well. I knew that Joshua
liked fishing, Alesha enjoyed gardening, Michael disliked cats, and
Peter detested vegetables. They were really nice and supportive of
me. Alesha would perform treatments on my wounds, and Joshua
would arrive with something tasty to eat. Michael and Peter said
and did funny things, keeping my mind active. What was I like as
a child?

232



On the second day, however, Joshua yelled something
unexpected:
“Those idiotic leaders… Why must they force people to
die?”

“Calm down, Joshua,” Alesha said.
“Why must our family be confined in this situation? Can’t

we do anything about this nonsense?!”
I was confused, so I walked up to them, hoping to
understand what they meant.
“Joshua and Alesha, what are you talking about?”

“I’ll die in a year,” Joshua claimed pensively.
“Me too in roughly two years,” Alesha sighed.

“Why?” I asked in bewilderment.
“There’s this silly ritual in our town, passed down from one
generation to the next,” Joshua explained. I heard the irritability in

his voice. “So when you get to forty years of age, the local
government looks at your salary, health, family, and other random
things. Then they prescribe a ‘death date’ for everyone based on
their well-being and contributions to society.”
“This ritual is supposed to help reduce overpopulation and
increase the productivity of the town and stuff,” Alesha stated.

“That’s why ‘useless’ adults will be killed sooner. In a year, Joshua
will reach his date. I will in two years. We will be forced to die
because of tradition.”

233



“That’s so cruelly inhumane!” I commented. “Anything you
can do about it?”
“Nothing,” Joshua said. “We don’t want to leave our sons
alone nor do we want to leave the world. We can still work, live, and
do great things. Why must we have death dates? We’re not robots
or manufactured products. We cannot simply expire. The value of
human life persists even if we’re old or weak. Don’t just destroy us
when we’re ‘no longer useful’,” Joshua murmured, frustrated.
“Has anyone ever tried confronting the guards?” I inquired.

“Yeah, but of course, they didn’t listen,” he responded. “You know
what happened the last time someone approached them? The poor
guy was sentenced to six months of detention! Isn’t that absurd?”
I remained silent.

“Very few have dared to challenge authority since then,”
he continued, “so things aren’t gonna change anytime soon.”
“When they declared your death dates, did they provide
any other details?”

“None. They just announced the dates, nothing else.”

“But what about your work-life status? Isn’t it a vital
reason for the killing of citizens? Shouldn’t it also be reported?”

“No information about that was mentioned, unfortunately,”
Alesha articulated. “Really, there’s no plausible reason. I’m a skilled
48-year-old artisan, whereas Joshua’s a diligent fisherman at age
49. We’re healthy individuals, and I think both of us are making

234


appreciable contributions to the town. Why they’d want to
eliminate us is beyond my understanding.”

“Well, the only explanation is that they do what they think
should be done. They are government officials who don’t value
human life. It’s not like we can change anything,” Joshua remarked.

I thought back to my family. My dad died of heart disease
around four years ago, and my mom was taken by another man.
My little 11-year-old brother needed to take care of himself at home
and school with the help of my uncle. I was 23 years old with my
adventurous soul, so I decided to leave home and became
a nomad-like traveler who visited many places just for personal
pleasure.

“How will they kill you?” I asked.
“By either injecting us with a fatal toxin in a hospital or if
we oppose, putting us in a ‘human incinerator’ that will no doubt
burn us to ashes,” Joshua answered.

“Where is this ‘human incinerator’?”
“My dear, a bit west of the town. Located in a valley. People

are constantly moving in and out. Guards and officials are
patrolling,” Alesha replied.

“Are they monitoring the area at all times?”
“I think so.”

“At what time of the day is the area most accessible?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll say in the morning—maybe at dawn.

In the late morning or afternoon, there are lots of travelers and

235


guards in the area. At night, it can be hard and dangerous even for
us locals to navigate, particularly up the hills.”

“Are there any other important landmarks in the vicinity?”
“Well, besides the incinerator, there’s a police station to
the east, a dam farther north, a large monument nearby, and
a health care center, I believe, to the south. That’s all I remember.
If you want to know more, you can study the map on our dining
table.”
“Does it take long to get there?”

“It probably takes about 40 minutes if you’re walking,
assuming the weather is calm. Or you can drive and get there much
sooner.”
Alesha paused before continuing.

“Aiden, please don’t trouble yourself. This is our problem.”

“You’ll need some rest, Aiden. Don’t worry about us. We’ll
get over it,” Joshua said.

“This issue is downright atrocious. I’ll help your family and
community,” I asserted. “You’ve saved my life. I’ll now save yours.”
Saddened by this realization, I had difficulties sleeping that
day. I was awake almost the entire night, trying to conceive a
reasonable plan to help the compassionate family. Seeing Michael
and Peter play hide-and-seek brought a soft smile to my face.

The next day, I went over to Joshua and Alesha.
“Hi, Aiden,” Alesha greeted. “You look much better now
than when we first met you. What’s up?”

236


“I thought about what you two were saying yesterday.
Can I suggest a plan?”

“Sure,” Alesha replied.
I snatched the topographic map from the table and handed
it to Alesha. She briefly looked at it and then gave it to Joshua.

“I scrutinized this map last night. The incinerator is
situated in this lowland, right? If that’s the case, we can try to
release water from the dam atop this hill. It’ll run down the gentle
slope and head straight for the incinerator at the bottom,”
I explained, pointing at the map in Joshua’s hands.

Alesha stared in amazement, while Joshua seemed
skeptical.
“Would that really work?” Joshua doubted.

“I’ve never been into physics, but the water should attain
a lot of energy by the time it passes the bottom of the hill.”
“Have you considered everything carefully?”

“Yes, the plan will definitely work,” I responded, “as long as
we have enough people to support us.”
“There may also be innocent locals caught up in this mess.

Is it safe? Would it damage other people or their property?”
“Make sure no one’s standing on the incline, and it’s certainly
safe. Their property will be untouched.”
“How about the guards?”

“We’ll outnumber them. They’ll be no match for us.”

237


“How will we access the dam?”

“It’s unlikely that they’ll give us the key, so we’ll need to
find another way. Perhaps other people can distract them while
we’re looking for the key. We’ll figure it out on the spot. Trust
me.”
“I just hope it doesn’t turn into a severe brawl,” Alesha
said.
The three of us hesitated, glanced at one another, and
understood what had to be done. Alesha, looking enthusiastic,
grabbed the telephone directory, flipped over the pages, and
made a phone call. Joshua, feeling more optimistic, turned to
another page and called someone else.
“You know, at first I considered using explosives to blow up
the incinerator, but that’d be too violent and unsafe,” I said and
laughed while Joshua and Alesha were busy telephoning. Once
again, Michael and Peter were running around, this time playing
tag. This time, they allowed their dogs to join in on the fun.
September 12th, 2019 marked our momentous occasion.
It was 5:30 a.m. The sun had not risen. The sky was gloomy and
filled with layers of flat, gray clouds. The wind was blowing rapidly.
It was drizzling, so the air was unusually wet.

Since the community wasn’t very big, everyone decided to
meet in front of Joshua and Alesha’s home. There were about fifty
people sharing a common goal: to stop the inhumane ritual and
establish justice. Joshua assumed leadership of the group. Before
leaving, he made a quick announcement:

238



“Today, we’re fighting for a good cause. To end a long-
standing ritual of eradicating people when they reach certain
ages. Our children will lead better lives without having a constant
fear of mandated death. We’re not going to use force unless it’s
necessary. Safety is our first priority. Does anyone have any
questions?”
One of the men in the back raised his hand and told Joshua,
“No question. I just want to say that I really admire your courage
and determination. Thank you so much, Joshua and your family.”
The crowd applauded us.

After the announcement, we began moving toward the
water dam. Joshua, Alesha, Michael, Peter, and I were leading the
group. Other families were following right behind us, each usually
consisting of one father, one mother, and a pair of children.
We walked together from our house to the community center, then
toward the town’s western periphery. As we were traveling, the rain
became much harsher. The downpour was soaking our bodies,
but we weren’t tired, and we wouldn’t go home until our task was
done. We’re like an army of ants marching for food, small but
enduring.
People were discussing our plan. Some were wary and
critical. “What if we were all sentenced to jail or prison?” Others

remained excited and cheerful. “We will win! No more stupid
government policy!” I was starting to feel anxious, my hands
shaking, my heart pounding, and my mind racing. The plan might
not work. These people will be punished because of me. Should
we retreat?

239



It was too late to turn back. We were close to our destination.
Standing at the westernmost point, we could identify two structures:
the dam on the top of the hill and the human incinerator in the
valley. To make sure everyone was safe, some people from the
group volunteered to stay there and inform any strangers. The rest
of us, led by Joshua, slowly jogged up the hill. The journey took
almost an hour before we finally made our way to the top where
twenty or so guards were impeding the path. It was then 6:45 a.m.
The rain had softened, and the glistening sun gradually emerged
from the horizon.
“Good morning,” Joshua asked.

“Good morning. What would you like, sir?” the guard with
the thickest moustache asked in return. He sounded a lot nicer and
more polite than I had anticipated.
“We’d like you to rid our community of the human
extermination system and bring social justice by reducing
unnecessary killing.”
“Sorry, but we cannot honor your request. I suggest you

leave if you don’t want to get in trouble.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to be the one putting an end to
the system. We’ll do it for you. May you please give us the key to
unlock the dam?”

“For what?”
“To release the water and destroy the human incinerator,”
Joshua claimed.

240



“We can’t let you do that. As you already know, the forced
killing of other people is just something you have to accept.
Everyone will die someday. Killing doesn’t make it worse. In fact,
it’s practical for the whole society. You may not believe it, but the
incinerator helps balance the population level and increases
workforce productivity. It’s a long-term sustainable development
plan created by the government hundreds of years ago. This ritual
is here to stay,” the guard blabbered.

“Clearly not everyone wants to die. We all have something
we want to do. Have you ever thought about that, or do you just
want to torment us?”
“Look, you need to be more tolerant. This ritual is best for
our society. Now leave or else you’ll face a penalty.”

“You inconsiderate morons! It seems like we need violence
to settle this. Let’s overwhelm the guards and get the key!” Joshua
projected his voice while using his hands to signal the rest of us.

Safety was out of the question. The atmosphere was chaotic
as the fathers of all families were fighting with the guards. That
moment was when I witnessed Joshua’s strength. He was strangling
the ignorant guard so hard he began to weep! The mothers were
just as energetic, though most of them weren’t engaged in the
violence. Alesha was scurrying around the entrance, presumably
searching for the key. Even some children were running around
and kicking our enemies here and there. Michael, surprisingly,
picked up nearby stones and hurled them at the guards. One of
them retaliated by attempting to use a wooden staff to hit him, but

241



his agility outmatched the guard’s. Peter, on the other hand, was
spectating behind a tree.
My body was not in its best condition, so I refrained from
participating in the intense scene. However, the guard with the
sunglasses dropped the key, so I sneakily took this opportunity to
retrieve it and opened the door to the dam’s control room. Everyone
else was still scuffling; our team appeared to be winning with its
all-or-nothing approach.
After a few minutes in the room, I figured out what to do.
I pulled the “release water” lever on the panel and turned the dial
to “high speed”… After a moment, SUCCESS! I heard the sound of
water coming out, rushing down the hillside. The people at the
bottom assisted in redirecting the water’s flow and soon the valley
was flooded, and the human incinerator was destroyed or at least
partially broken and carried away by the strong current.
I stepped outside and jumped for joy. Joshua’s face was
beaming with happiness. Alesha was so buoyant that she danced
in front of the group. Michael was screaming along with the group,
and Peter was running around in circles. The other families were
equally jubilant. The guards were no longer to be seen. Although
some of us were injured, our sweet victory was the only thing that
mattered to us at that moment.

We returned home that afternoon, and that evening, we had
a large celebration to which every townsperson was invited.
“Torturous tradition long gone!” everyone shouted in
unison.

242



Joshua and Alesha came up to me.
“Aiden, thank you for helping our community!” Alesha
exclaimed as they both hugged me.

“Without you, more righteous people would’ve been unjustly
killed in the future,” Joshua added.
“No problem. I’m more grateful that you saved my life,”
I replied.

The next day was when I decided to leave for my new
adventure. I remembered Joshua saying to me, “You will always be
a part of our family” as he was hanging my portrait up next to the
family picture.

“Please come back, Aiden! You’re always welcome here,”
Alesha said.
“Thanks for everything, Alesha, Joshua, Peter, and
Michael… I promise I’ll come back and pay all of you a visit,” I said
before opening the door.

I turned around and smiled at the family.
“I’ll surely return home,” I continued. The family waved
goodbye as I stepped out of the door.

This trip was the experience I’d longed for and one that I’d
never forget.



Oh, wait. I don’t have my car…

Astronauts




- Varissara (Bam) Narongwanich -


I am sitting on a chair in a classroom in rehab. What am
I doing here? The lecture seemed like a blur and I could not
understand a word the teacher was saying. Her mouth moved as if
she was talking but I could not comprehend anything. I could not
concentrate at all. My right hand was shaking uncontrollably and
the pencil in my hand shook as if I had tremors. I tried to do math
and wrote some numbers down, but my handwriting was illegible
and what I could see was just some scribbles. I took deep breaths,
put the pencil down, and tried to shake it off. I picked up my pencil
once again but the shaking still continued. I tried my hardest to
concentrate, but my mind wasn’t on what is in front of me but was
fixated for what I needed most.

I should not have thought I was strong enough. I should not
have thought that I was powerful, in control, and somehow have
more willpower compared to those people you always see in the
news. Countless stories have been told about it and people like

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me, a person who was so confident never thought I could become
one of them. Was it curiosity or was I just trying to escape the brutal
reality? Until today, I still have no answer.
I started breathing more heavily and more frequently. It was
like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the atmosphere, leaving
only the nitrogen and carbon dioxide to enter my lungs. My mind
wasn’t working right and for once I started to think about the
astronaut floating in space that I had once seen in a movie. He was
the captain and his spaceship had exploded. He was the only one
who had survived the explosion and his oxygen tank was slowly
emptying. What would he be thinking, knowing that he had only a
few more hours to live and was going to die in a deserted and
endless universe? Would he just sleep and tell himself that
everything would turn out alright in the end and that a miracle
would happen and a spaceship would rescue him? Would he start
crying and regretting what he hadn’t done and about the people he
did not have a chance to say goodbye? Or would he just smile and
realize that he has had a good life, a good family, did his best, and
had lived every day as his last? The movie ended with him smiling
and feeling happy with his life.

Suddenly, I came back to reality, gasped for air, and tears
started to run down my cheeks. People stopped what they were
doing and started to turn around and look at me. I hated the looks
on their faces. I hated the attention. I hated the disgusted and
slightly terrified looks on those people’s faces.

I screamed, “What are you looking at!, Stop looking at me
and mind your own business.”

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People still stared and that was the last straw. I screamed loudly
and my whole body was trembling. I was sitting on the floor, arms
around my knees, trying to embrace myself. I was shivering in a
corner of a room, tired of acting like everything’s alright. All eyes
were upon me, and the hardest thing to do was to breathe. I kept
gasping for air, but my lungs needed more oxygen. I did not try to
conceal it any longer. It was about time I lost. The fight was endless
and tedious, though I managed to conquer it for years, I knew
today would come, a day where I would totally lose control.
People came closer, while my arms tightened the grip over
my body even more. I was shivering uncontrollably and started
screaming when a person came closer.

“Back off!,” I said.
“Don’t you understand English, I said back off!”

I told them to stay away and leave, and many followed my
command. I heard gossip from people walking out of the room and
eyes were still upon me. My vision was blurry and I could not see
who they were. In fact, I did not even care about what people would
think of me anymore. I just wanted to escape, or everyone to leave.
They felt like demons trying to devour my soul and were extremely
terrifying. They were threats to my peaceful world and I needed
them out. My arms were like shields protecting me from all the
chaos and maybe the only thing that made me feel a little safer.
A minute later, I saw white blurry figures, I counted three of
them, opening the door and coming closer. I screamed again and
told them to stay away.

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“Don’t touch me!”

“Get your hands off me!,” I shouted as loud as I could.
They just kept moving closer and closer. Their every
footstep is like the rhythm of death. One of them grabbed my arm,
and the other one the other. I screamed and kicked, but they still
managed to pull me out of the room, handcuffed me with a chair in
the elevator and I was moving down. After I saw “G” on the screen,
the elevator opened and I was transported to another room. The
room was brightly lit and I could see the pink flowers growing on
trees through the large window. The outside world looked so lively
and colorful. I could see birds flying and butterflies flapping their
wings. I imagined the air being fresh. Such a great day for a picnic.
Such a great day to be outside and free.
A syringe was injected into my skin. They collected a
sample of my blood and put it into some machine. After several
minutes, which for me felt like hours, another figure came in and the
people in white were asked to leave the room, leaving me with the
lady in dark blue. Before they left, they handed over a small syringe
with clear liquid and handed it over to the lady in blue. She received
it and gently placed it on the desk before sitting on her chair and
looking at me.

She started speaking. “Hello, how are you doing?”

I kept silent. I knew her, and she knew me. I don’t know why
she had helped me and smiled at me every time we passed in the
halls. Was she only trying to impress everyone? Was she trying to
win my trust or did she really care? Nah, she doesn't even know
me. What a fool I was to have that thought slipped into my mind.

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She said, “Somehow you have managed to hide your drugs,
is the treatment not working?” I still kept quiet. She opened the
drawer, picked up a bag of pills, and continued to talk. “I found it
in the restroom cabinet this morning and confiscated all of it. Tell
me, is it only you or are there more people doing this?” I did not say
anything and kept staring at my feet.

I love the feeling when I outsmart people. I love the
adrenaline rushing through my veins. I love it when people left the
restroom at last, leaving only me and the drugs. Every morning
I grabbed a couple of pills into my pocket, gently closed the bag,
and walked out of the restroom through the guards. I tried to act as
normal as I could. I always smiled at them, and after I was out of
sight, I ran as quickly and quietly to my room and enjoyed my
happiness. The feeling when I succeeded made me feel euphoric.
I knew people searched our rooms, and I knew that sometimes the
most dangerous places can be the safest.
My mind drifted off to when this all started. Two years ago,
when I wanted to try being happy for once so I came to several
pharmacies and mixed up my own happiness. That day I wrote a
little something in my diary:
Everything just seemed a little grayer. I slowly opened my
eyes and noticed the colors that have faded. The vibrant colors
seemed less vibrant and what usually seemed dark seemed a little
duller. The colorfulness of the world slowly faded, and it made the
world less appealing to live in. Is it the world or is it me? Or is it the
invisible gray filter covering my vision?
The world seemed a little grayer than it used to.

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I felt as if I was floating. The grey world seemed more
colorful and at that moment, I felt like I had magic powers that fly
and make things float. Was I in heaven? I never felt that way for
years. After that high, I crashed hard and was not able to go to
school for days. I vomited until I was so tired. Why was happiness
paid by such a high price, I thought. I told myself not to use them
again and I was confident that I was one of the few who are strong
enough to not be under the influence of those drugs. I was totally
too positive.
The next day, I could not concentrate and all I could think of
is the drugs. What if I am always high by constantly taking drugs?
I’ll never crash and will be the happiest person on earth! What a
genius, I thought. After that, I took drugs on a daily basis but things
did not go out as planned. I needed more of the drug and could not
continue my daily life without it. It was terrible and my life was now
under the drug’s control. One day, my blood was tested and I did
not even think that it would show. It’s just over the counter drugs
right? I was too optimistic. The next morning, the hospital called,
and I was sent to rehab right away. And now I am here, in rehab,
still able to sneak in drugs, take drugs, and still be unhappy.

I snapped back to reality, suddenly gained my composure,
breathed in and out and said, “It’s only me, and I’m sorry for what
has happened. I just don’t know how else to feel happy. No one
ever loved me nor cared about me. Can you give me a chance? Can
I start over?” I said with a genuine voice with tears overflowing.