Four Weeks - The Beginning

Breaking Point

'Alan?' Relwer enquired, scared and concerned.

'If a Neilodron isn't here, where else could he be?' Alan asked Relwer, enunciating clearly.

'That is not relevant. If your father was atoning for his offence of treason, he would have to be here,' said Relwer.

Alan looked infuriated, bordering on psychotic.

'Where else could he be?' Alan yelled.

Relwer took a step back in alarm. Alan was exuding palpable energy.

'If he finished his sentence, he is either working for the department of defense or is treated as a normal Neilon and is living a normal life,' Relwer said.

'He may also have found a way to escape. He could have done it using any way, from strange and uncertain to simple hoodwinking of guards through wit, thought and intellect'

'So, now I choose from out of those options?' Alan yelled, again.

'Calm down boy. There is some misreporting or muddling of facts that has taken place here. Your father had to have been committed recently because, as per protocol, I checked the records last week and his name wasn't on them. Under no circumstance, could his sentence have terminated so quickly, or granted him a short period of absence given that the offense is treason,' Relwer said.

Alan pushed menacingly towards Relwer and grabbing him by the collar, he backed him against a tree.

'You are all lying to me, you're all f***ing lying to me!' Alan yelled.

'You have to quell yourself, my friend,' Relwer said.

Alan punched Relwer in the face, almost snapping his neck.

'Tell me what the f*** is going on!' he demanded, yelling at the top of his lungs.

Relwer turned his face back to face Alan and looked aghast, lost and speechless, revealing an innocent and helpless expression, like that of a child. Alan looked at Relwer in the eye and his eyebrows sank. He dropped Relwer, turned swiftly around and hurried through the woods. Irate and unstable, he dashed up to a tree and punched it repeatedly, making severe dents on the bark of its trunk. The tree appeared as though it had been assaulted by regular axe blows. Alan looked at his fist, flipped it to examine his knuckles, his eyes begging for some respite from all the mystery. He could even see the leaves around wafting through the air, for a brief few moments.

'What am I?' he asked himself.

He wondered if his father had made a strong case for himself upon facing his charge. Perhaps, the authorities decided to grant him reprieve till they gathered enough proof against his plea. He sat down on a rock set upon the bank of a stream and started to choke, the tears dripping down his cheeks. He felt lost. He sat there, crying.

After a while, he heard the rustle of leaves some way ahead of him. He looked up to see what made the noise. He could not see anybody. He plunged his face into his forearms that rested, folded upon his knees, which bent in a curl as he sat on the rock, to resume crying. Then, in a short patch, he heard the rustle another time. Only this time, it was louder.

Alan looked up again and scanned the surrounding area. He got up to his feet and he walked around the area, examining everything he saw. He walked over to a bush, lifted a leaf with his hand and saw a bug.

The bug looked similar to a grasshopper, short antennae, pinchers for tearing apart food and small wings to fly. The only distinct difference was in its appearance; unlike the grasshopper, it had a multicolored pattern on its body.