the 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝙎 of the 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙒𝙉

「 two 」

I had no memories of how I slept, but all I knew that I woke up. It was sad that I had to breathe again. I would be grateful if I would just die in my sleep. Or I would be thankful if someone just killed me in my sleep. Sighed.

Well, whatever. I'll just let myself live this day.

Now, now . . . How should I start my morning?

Ah, right.

I should be smiling!

I smiled as if my lips were reaching ears. It was a big, bright smile that could tear my face apart.

How happy~ starting my day with a lie.

Bullshit.

I got out of my bed, went to the bathroom, did my stuff, wore my school uniform, fixed my looks, and smiiiiilllleeeeee~

I was staring at the vanity mirror and looked at my reflection.

I saw an ugly human being. Well, would I be considered as a human being? I had always considered myself as a stray to this humanity. I had no sympathy for others, as well as to myself. Living my life as a complete waste of space was surely a heavy burden to carry.

Once I was done doing my morning repetitively, I headed outside of my room. My parents were probably in the dining hall. It became our custom to dine all together. Breakfast and dinner, mostly. During lunch, I stayed at school; my father would be spending his noontime in work; mother usually stayed in this empty house.

Few minutes after, I reached the dining hall. I saw the two of them talking with all smiles. Heh, laughable. How could they smile like that? As far as I knew, even before I was born, my parents had already a problem.

Like I cared, anyway.

I prepared myself great acting and with an act of whole ridiculous courage, I jumped with fake enthusiasm and greeted them, saying: "Good morning, mom and dad~!" whilst kissing them both on the cheeks.

I almost vomit my guts out. Disgusting. Disgustingly filthy.

I never showed them my disgust sat on one of the chairs.

Of course, they greeted me as well with the same actions as I did. They were disgusted with me, too.

This was the portrayed family I had witnessed ever since I discovered all the truths.

If I would going to tell my story, then I would start it with the protagonist—which is me—being the bad and unwanted child.

My supposed dad was working a lot. He owned an information technology (IT) company, selling software, hardware, and related business services. And he had no time for my mother.

My mother, who was always using tears to make excuses, she always felt alone. So she cheated with her husband and made her pregnant. And I was that bastard child.

But they lied to me, I had no idea how long, that I was actually my father's child.

For how many years, everything seemed happy, having no problems at all. My father was continually working in his company; the same with my mother who kept on cheating.

Not a long time when I discovered that my father had also a secret affair. Worst enough, he also had a child to another woman.

I grew up watching my family always fighting.

Lies . . . Lies . . . Lies . . .

What I only learned to this household was to lie; live my life as a lie.

Now I'm scared that liars will be dropped down straight to hell.

Did it hurt me? Well, I guess it did. Tainting a pure-hearted girl into this loneliness and disappointment, what the worst world to live in.

"How's your ballet dancing, Elli?" My mother asked me with a small smile crept on her face.

I matched the smile and answered, "I'm taking a break from it. I also need to focus on school."

"That's right, Ellianna, you should start thinking for the best. Ballet can't take you anywhere." On the other side, my father spoke while holding a newspaper and eyes fixed on the contents.

"I'll keep that in mind." I only uttered and grinned sideways.

As if they cared. Hypocrites. Rotten hypocrites . . . gross.

After a while, breakfast was over. It was time to go. I left the house and went to school: Imperial University. It was an elite school, where only rich and powerful people can afford.

Cliché as it seemed, but it actually existed in reality.

Here I was! Being a student, blended in this kind of society where a monkey face was hidden in a mask. I was one of them, pretending as if I belonged to these living individuals.

"Ell!" Someone called me not from afar.

I knew that voice.

My school life would never be completed without a friend. It was Ashley Harris. She was a cheerful kid, very pure, but bit naive.

"Hi, Ash!" I answered back, showing a friendly smile.

I was already with her since childhood. She was the witness of my screwed-up story. She knew everything. The one thing that I liked about her was how honest she was. Whenever I was with her, I could lower my walls down a bit.

Yes, she was an airhead, yet in both good and bad way.

Not so long enough, we both start walking. As usual, she was the jolly type. Acting a happy person was a difficult job for me, but I could manage to retain a smile. Of course, as a hard-working liar, as I am, I got obsessed with that idea, since I lacked the strength to show my unspeakable, horrifying identity.

My smile should be flawless! I would not let anyone see any hints of a conniving horse-faced liar in me!

Soon, as we approaching the main building of the high school department, we both sighted Natsumi.

Natsumi Montero—that was how she called herself—was one of the individuals who hid behind a mask. I could tell. I had uncloaked a formula on how to solve a liar's words.

I smirked inwardly. Another worst clown in this society, pretending she was one of the living.

Well, I would just let her play the story and I would play with mine. I would see if she could keep it. She would be my new source of entertainment. I laughed to myself, thinking about how she would struggle vainly. And I loved watching a self-obsessed struggle.

Ha ha, what a bitch.

Classes started and ended like a whim. Nothing new happened. It was still a boring day. I wanted to see something that could amuse me. The human-beings beside me were not as interesting as it seemed.

I sighed. I didn't where to look to find answers to this dull world. Everything was ineffably a representation of shame.

I was spending my time with them, having a little hope that they could crack the code of my farcical enigma.

No matter I showed signs of psychological damages, no one seemed to notice. No one could decipher my smiles; the words that the clown spoke.

I could never understand if they were good friends for not finding the real me. Or I was just a bad friend, because I could never be honest.

As if it mattered.

I'm the actress of my own self. I'm either a human or a clown.

Both were difficult . . . What a failure I had become.

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