Selling Spring

Part 3

"He didn't need that anyway," thought Alex as he relocated another word. A week had passed and Alex's quality of life as a student increased dramatically. He began to steal more words, taking one every time when he went to talk with Cayson's friends.

By stealing some positive traits of a popular student Alex didn't like, he was able to make friends for the first time in years. "I'm helping others," Alex kept reminding himself, " I'm separating toxic people from good people and giving myself to others."

Relaxed and energized after a hangout session, Alex sat on his desk and opened his laptop. '97, 93, 89, 93, 91..." Alex murmured, scanning his grades. Smiling, he opened up an assignment on the school website and started working. 

The word "studious" was working well. Typing away at his computer, he noticed his unfinished comic next to the empty trash can and realized that he wasn't drawing lately. The word "undistracted" set in and he refocused back on his studies.

Cayson wasn't back from his sports activity, so Alex surfed the web trying to find something to do. He had already checked if Cayson's friends were back, and their empty rooms answered his question.

Bored, he closed his laptop and searched for chores. He swept the mildly dusty floor, made his bed, rearranged his clothes, and picked up some trash that was lying on the ground. After getting rid of an orange candy wrapper, he walked back to his desk when he almost slipped on a piece of paper. He regained his balance and bent down to pick up a piece of paper with a half-drawn comic sketched on one side. Seeing the paper again piqued his interest, but his interest evolved into a twisted question.

"I could draw now, but do I have to?" thought Alex. He chose not to and was about to throw it in the trash when he snapped out of it. "What am I doing?" He thought, setting the paper on his desk. "I still haven't finished my drawing from two weeks ago." He sat down and reached for his orange pencil, but he stopped, "unimaginative" searing his mind.

He couldn't think of something to write about.

"Tolerant," "patient," and "composed" locked him in a paradoxical state of emotion, not wanting to feel frustration and worry but also desiring to express his feelings. This overall feeling and situation panicked Alex, which was also suppressed by "collectedness".

Like a blacksmith who's shackled by his own chains, Alex was stressed out and frustrated, but couldn't do anything since his chains were too strong. Alex stumbled to his bed and collapsed, filled with feelings that aren't his. Slowly, he put his palm to his head and pulled it away, dragging several orange glowing words with it. He felt relaxed for a second, but the words floated up to his head, about to go in again. He tried to stop it, but it went through his hand and back into his mind.

He held his hand to the side of his head, which started to throb. As the headache became worse, Alex thought of frantically throwing out his words, but knew he couldn't do it, courtesy of the word "awareness" that he stole from Cayson.

Alex forced himself onto his bed, closed his eyes, and breathed slowly. Trying to block the words from attacking, he concentrated on breathing, not allowing his mind to get distracted by taking advantage of the word, "focused". After a while, his body relaxed, finally getting a chance to rest and think clearly.

"I was stressed before because I was not used to the new personality traits. There's nothing to be worried about; it's part of me now, anyway. But why does it feel a bit off? I'm making other people feel better. Right; I'm just not used to the new me. No need to panic" thought Alex.

Alex slowly opened his eyes, flooding his vision with orange light. Looking up, he saw Cayson facing him.

"You up?"

Alex blinked, almost hearing a small click in the back of his head as he realized that he was involved in a conversation.

"Yeah, I was just tired from the assignment," Alex said, sitting up.

"Which one? Wait, was it the English one?"

"Yeah, how did you know?" Alex said, smiling.

"I had trouble with that too. Do you wanna keep working or should we talk for a bit?"

Considering it for a moment, Alex finally said, "I'll work on it. Looks like you have to do it anyway," Alex said, standing up.

"Eh. Fair," Cayson said, shrugging and walking back to his chair.

Alex sat on his desk, opened his laptop, and stared into the screen.

After a few seconds, the screen turned black from inactivity, forcing Alex to look at his reflection. Around his head were so many orange words spinning at different speeds and directions that they covered his face. Somehow, looking at the words made him feel sick to the stomach. Gazing at his reflection, he had one thought:

"Am I happy?"