Otherworld

Chapter 1

Suddenly a powerful ray of light sliced through the dark sky, which for only a minute, but made the pale light of the stars disappear. The ray came from a spaceship, which was speeding even faster than light not far from the, for us, unusually near planets. As soon as it vanished in the darkness of space, the planets regained their domination, and the sky was peaceful again.

'How many people watch the sky right now, like me? How many of them thinks about the same as me? Is there any other wretch like me?' – These were the thoughts of the person, who was examining the enormous planets and the not at all empty landscape.

There, if someone looked at the sky, they did not feel alone. The azure was full of smaller and bigger planets and just as a side dish, millions of shining stars.

It was like a baroque church: it was full of lustrum and pomp, so when one looked up, could not do else than be amazed. However, the overly adorned, enormous sky made people think: how did all this occur? How is this still together? There must be some trick in it.

The boy, who examined the sky, hollowed in his thoughts. As the stars were shining more and more in his eyes, he felt more and more alone and wished if he was dead.

As he looked through his surroundings, he saw a great concrete wall with barbed wire on top. He lost all his will to live. The thought that he might never be freed exasperated him even more. He felt like there is no meaning in this suffering.

He would go mad if he stayed there for one more year. No one spoke to him more than necessary; he could not tell anyone his problem. Sometimes, he even talked to the wall but did not see any meaning in doing so. He felt like there was a huge hole in him, which he cannot fill. He could not fill it with anything, no matter what he does, what he thinks. And he got sick of it.

He got sick of trying what is good and what is not. He got sick of thinking about the future. Those years of idleness made him empty. He could not feel anything and to be honest, he did not want to. Existing became unnecessary and meaningless to him.

He was not inactive for long; he went to the ironically verdant tree in the middle of the shabby yard and climbed up on it. Because of the handcuffs, this was not easy, but the black-haired boy solved the problem easily.

Under the cuffs, his hands were bleeding for a while now and from the blood some black fluid was excreting continuously. The boy controlled this fluid with his mind and directed it to form stairs to the tree. As the fluid solidified, he could easily reach a likeable branch. With this technique he made a rope and with closed eyes, he decided to mark an end to this suffering which others call life.

„Michael, what are you doing?" The boy hurriedly opened his eyes and led his dark, turbid gaze to the man, who was standing not so far from him. The man had steel coloured hair and eyes and his usually stiff face was this time relaxed.

The question itself was not accounting nor scolding, more like gentle and curious.

„I am killing myself" replied the boy after a few minutes, in a tone as if asking: is it not unequivocal? „I cannot take it anymore" He lowered his head and shut his eyes once again. He was about to jump, but the man opened his mouth again.

„Right now?" His gaze was still only curious. The boy opened his eyes filled with bitterness and looked at him baffled.

„When else?" He did not understand the question.

„Don't you care about tomorrow?" The man took a step closer to the young boy.

„I don't have a tomorrow" Michael slouched his head so the grey-haired man could not see his tears that want to roll out.