Crossing The Mental Line

Chapter 3: First Conversations

●●●In Val's eyes●●●
(Just in case, Val and Valerie are the same person. It's just that lazy me refuses to type out her full name so Val it is. If it got you confused, I apologise.)

As I trudged down the empty halls of the motel I was staying in, I processed all my thoughts. Coming to Switzerland was obviously a miracle in action, but what was I truly up for? Honestly, I have no idea. Making friends is something we would all have to do, or else World War 4 between kids would commence. If you have not gotten the precariousness of the situation by now, it basically means that one mistake will cause the ruin of the world.

This life... was a lonely life. No one was there to save me from my follies, no one to point out my mistakes, just myself. Sure, getting fuzzy hugs all the time from parents just to get me to teach their child, was a comforting feeling. However, I wasn't talking about literally being alone. I was talking about the warmth not filling the void in my heart. That's what loneliness truly is. It is like the world excluded you from their sight, placed you in a torturous metal cell and left you there to fend for yourself. That's the reality of my life, not the whims and fancies I often place myself in. It was never something I planned for, it just happened. Just like how I burnt the midnight oil e eryday just to get ahead of my class. I just wanted to be the first in CLASS, not the WHOLE OF BRITAIN. The worst part, was that all the girls in my school often associated the fact that my academics were good, so I "attracted" the boys in my school. Using my rather inexperienced vulgar language, I would say "crap". That's the worst obscene word in my life.

The fact that my grades were brought in just to justify my friendships with others was crap. Pure crap.

The world is such a bitter place. Every little detail must be inspected and have a reason behind it. The detail is so minuscule, yet when it has a reason, it is humongous.

What is the true meaning of life? Some might ask. Think of life as a train. This train leads you to places, only if you direct it. This train contains excitement, anger, and downright sadness. This train is only a small fragment of the world, so only you can make it big. Only you can make it noticed. That's about all in life. Leading the train is easier said than done. When you make the wrong decisions, the train heads in the wrong direction, ending up in a probable porthole. However, with your sheer determination and patience,  you push the train out using your wits, and the train is free to run once again. When you hear the impending death knell, your train will start huffing and puffing, as if out of breath. But no, it is not out of breath. It is celebrating that you have completed the last lap of your life, and the marathon is completed. The train will serve no other master, so as you stop drawing breath, it does too, its engines failing and slowly disintegrating to dust, as if it was never there.

That is how I explain life. That explanation helps me to continue with my days. My goal is to never let the train go into so many troubles, and even if it does, I'll always be there to get it out.

Just I snapped out of my reverie, I bumped into a strong surface. Damn wall! I yelled in frustration. There must be a bruise at the top of my forehead. Oh, how wrong I was.

I punched the wall in pure anger, cursing in my limited vulgar language. I was only stopped by a hand gently.

"Excuse me?" The voice smoothly asked me.

"Just go away. I am having a fit with this stupid wall." I responded curtly, not showing my face.

"I really would like to go away, but my chest hurts after you have been hitting it. Has it satisfied you much?" It asked emotionlessly.

Was I hearing that right? Chest hurts... hitting it continuously... good grief!

I backed away in mortification as I looked at the face more clearly.