Tales of Valor and Life

One of Those Nights

He stared at his agenda, his neck bent awkwardly to gain a better perspective. His pencil lay strewn across his desk, still as can be, its tip rather blunt. He saw many things written on that agenda, all tasks he had to accomplish soon or in the near future. He looked over to the bottom of the agenda, where he recently wrote something down and quickly checked off "Pet the Cat".

A laugh bubbled out of his throat unwillingly. It sounded rough, dry, and hollow. Quite frankly, it hadn't sounded like any laugh he had ever heard before, and it was so embarrassingly depressing that he shut his mouth immediately, leaving his room with the sound of silence.

He straightened his neck, now looking at his monitor, its bright screen showing an empty word document. The top read "English Essay" and the rest of the document was blank. He switched to his chrome window and saw countless tabs open, all of them holding a plethora of mathematics videos, past lectures, internet searches, and a single tab that beheld his homework.

Twenty five questions lay unanswered, while his notebook to the left held countless erased marks of many failed attempts, his calculator's screen still bright revealing the countless calculations made.

Looking to his right, he saw his phone lying face down next to his wallet and keys. The time was 11:30 pm and he felt tired. Physically yes, but mentally as well. The tasks he had to do were all manageable, none of them were due just yet, but the fact he had to do them, and that they would be instantly replaced with another in a few weeks was something that left him feeling empty.

It had even gotten to the point where doing his work, being productive no longer gave him a modicum of joy that his work was decreasing, but instead everything felt like a waste of time.

Everything in this life was a waste of time, he thought to himself. All of this work, all of this responsibility, all of these relationships, why couldn't he feel any joy or success at completing them? Why didn't hanging out with his friends bring him a sense of contentment or happiness? Watching his favorite show, reading his favorite books, and even listening to music gave him a sense of immense guilt for not being productive. While actually, being productive made him frustrated at the amount of time he was wasting. He was tired, that's why. Not because he had particularly strained his body and not because he had been working on homework for too long.

No. He was tired of being alive. Tired of walking in place when it came to his life. Tired of sprinting in place when he tried. Tired of having no hope. And tired of feeling lonely.

He had friends, it was enjoyable to hang out with them. And there were moments he could recall where he opened up to them, moments that he still remembers fondly. But, everyone has their life to deal with, and he felt as if he was burdening those friends. Bothering them with his problems, so he stopped, and no one stopped to ask why.

He appreciated his friends genuinely did, but right now, he felt so empty. Nothing felt like it mattered. He made up his mind and opened his closet, picking a random jacket and grabbing the items to his right.

With the wallet and phone in his pockets, and key in hand, he walked over to his car and fired up the engine. The drive was silent, the noise of his engine and the wheels on the road keeping him company. He wasn't really sure where he was going, but he kept going and going, until a familiar sight filled his eyes.

His old high school stood quiet, some parts unfamiliar, perhaps additions while he was gone, but others remarkably identical. He drove past it, nostalgia filling his body with something.

Driving past it, he saw a park right next to the school and decided to go there. He stepped out of his vehicle, the warmth of the engine heating his legs until he walked away. He walked through the dead silent park, his hands in his pockets, just feeling aimless. The few cars still on the road roared down the road, going far faster than the speed limit. The trees rustled in the wind, and his jacket kept him warm, breaking the wind.

Eventually, he came to the edge of the park, residing at the edge of a cliff face. Looking at the view before him, he was filled with some kind of feeling that felt foreign yet familiar. He sat down on the ground, laying his hands behind him, supporting his body, and leaning backward.

From this view he could see many things, his old highschool and its classrooms. His eyes drinked in the view, comparing the additions to how it used to appear. Some parts filled him with disappointment and others with grudging approval. Still, he eventually tired of the sight and looked further, now observing the city before him.

Many lights dotted the land, skyscrapers being illuminated in the far-off distance, and office buildings rising higher and higher than the rest. Observing the sight reminded him that the world was truly a large place, with tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, residing within this city alone. And yet, out of all these people, only he was currently observing this city, in this park, at this time.

At this realization he felt a profound sense of loneliness and the other sensation he felt right before he had decided to sit down. He tried his best to ignore the sinking well of sadness growing in his stomach and looked away from the city and to the right where hardly any buildings resided, only a mountain range pouring a zigzag pattern of light into the city.

He looked closer, realizing those lights were cars on a highway. He knew not why, but the sight was beautiful, a slowly moving pattern of light, spilling into the city from a far off mountain range. It was magnificent.

He took his eyes off the landscape after getting his fill and stared up at the sky, his hands no longer supporting him, for he now lay flat on his back. The sky was empty, a few dots of light filling his vision, but nothing so grand as he had been expecting.

He was disappointed but still lay there, staring at that dark canvas, pondering over simple thoughts, nothing related to his life. He felt like he could stay in that position forever, even with all the loneliness, because that other sensation, that other feeling in his heart, made it better.

And then it clicked, that mysterious feeling was peace.