Tale of the Gifted Beings

chapter 1

chapter 1

HAVE I TOLD YOU about my day so far? It was pretty rough. Tiring, to say the least. I've been running for what it feels like forever. And honestly, the adrenaline coursing through my veins still told me to run faster even though my knees started to tremble. Why? Oh I'll tell you why: it had been just another day for me in my usual activity. Today, however, was very unlucky. I zigzagged through the labyrinthine alleys with no clear path, traversing the pathway like an athlete. The thing is, Bowlcut almost caught me. Well, almost.

"Move!" I yelled at a random stranger who was currently blocking my way. I shoved him away, and down I ran.

I then found myself plunged into an ocean of people. The bustling crowd surged like a mixture of random voices and unfamiliar faces. Before I knew it, I was lost in the ocean, concealed among the masses like a chameleon. Annoyingly, The Blue Danube by Johann Strauss II was blasting in the background while the festivities continued. Shocks, it has been played for the nth time already. I don't care if it's the town's founding anniversary. Like, whatever. I couldn't care less.

"Hey!" Bowlcut yelled, causing my reverie to be shattered.

I looked back and saw him from a distance. His eyes were fuming in annoyance. Toothpick was there too. And have I told you about Brownie? Yup, their faithful canine. Brownie sniffed the air, accompanying their chase. My eyes widened upon seeing their stressed-out faces. I traversed away from them and began looking for a way out. Unfortunately for them, the mixture of strangers drowned them out-either that or they just gave up.

Am I in the clear? Is it okay to lower my guard? Is it over?

Breathing heavily, I turned to a hidden alley, leaning my back against a brick wall. With a mixture of delight and anxiety, I slowly unzipped the pinkish wallet I stole, revealing countless pieces of cash tucked inside its slip-in pocket. The moment I took the money out, the classical music came to an end. Glistening cards and wads of cash greeted my sight, and for once, this sly grin etched across my face.

For what it's worth, the government here always turns a blind eye to its citizens, leaving us to cope unaided in its negligent embrace. And I was not going to settle for a worthless life. I once tried applying for jobs that almost everyone else had applied for, but the low wage and overwork made me realize that the money wasn't enough.

"Two hundred," I counted. Two-hundred. Not much. I closed the wallet, pocketed the money, and slowly walked away.

As I slowly exited through the dimly lit alley, the pounding inside my chest slowly calmed. The earlier rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins was inebriating, fueling my every escape with intense energy. And I was used to this kind of situation: narrowly escaping Bowlcut and Toothpick. I mean, even when I was young, I was shoved into a world of survival. In the process, I became a delinquent. Yet, despite the constant scuffle for survival, there's still an accompanying thought alongside it-a longing for something more.

"Two hundred," I repeated as I continued walking. Not long after, I slowly reached the familiar entrance of my home. The worn-out paint and flickering lightbulbs greeted me with a weird feeling, and I sighed at the sight outside of the porch.

Life stinks, regardless of how much people try to romanticize it. Then my trance was broken when a slow creak snapped against our worn-out floor.

"Primrose," a gruff voice crept out from behind, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "You're back."

The scent of dampness and deterioration hung in the air as I looked back, mixing in with the distant sound of cars and sirens. With a shaking hand, I twisted the knob of the creaky door and stepped into the dimly lit room. The musty smell of old fixtures and stale cigarette smoke hit my senses, causing me to crease my nose in disgust.