Antoine's Curious Collection of Arbitrary Short Stories

Language

Have you ever been in a situation where you really want to do something but you know that it's going to end up badly and it affects others but did it anyway? Maybe it's because you thought that it's time to choose yourself, even just once; to prioritize you're own happiness instead of always, always thinking of others. Maybe it's because you think that you'll never gain anything if you continue to choose them and that this is your shot or your chance to break that off and you believe to that hope, that false hope, coated with an idea of breaking free from your prison but the truth is...

You just want to convince yourself that it is not stupid at all, but a breakthrough for you as an "individual".

If so, then we're both fucked. Yup, I fucked up. Big time. It's funny to think about it now. I was young, just turned 18, like any other excuse teenagers use for their stupid actions. Young and in-love. Heck I don't even know if I really was before. But maybe, maybe I really was. One thing is for sure, I was foolish.

I was in a girl's restroom, smoking. Intently looking at myself, thinking things like "you wouldn't know if you didn't try" so do it. Frustrated, I took a piece of paper from a notebook I've never use. I tore it and decide to scribble some words. I had no idea how to write a love letter that time so I thought that maybe I just write a riddle about love. I mean he's smart so I guess he'll get it. That it was a hint of my feelings for him. So I wrote it. I still remember every word.

After writing down the words I hurried back to our class, 5 minutes before it'll end. "That's all for today if you have any questions regarding the lessons, concerns, don't be afraid to approach me" my professor said Atlas.

My classmates left the room leaving me alone. I walk bravely, even when my knees are feeling weak. Fuck, fuck, fuck that was the words that echoes in my mind while walking up to him, "Professor," I blurted out, calling out to him. He turned around, momentarily stopped himself from his business, erasing the board he used. Some of the formulas are still written. Heck I don't even know what those formulas are for, I hardly listen. Damn it, my stupid and distracted brain.

"Yes, Ms..."

He tried to remember my name. I know I'm not the type that is easily remembered. A nobody, a ghost or "low-key" to make it sound less bad. I hesitated for a moment. He doesn't even remember my name. My heart ached but I didn't let that ruin this moment.

"Do you have any concerns?" He said noticing my hesitation. I tried to back away.

"Don't be shy."

"Okay," I mumbled.

"I-I have a question," I stated as I took the paper I hid in my pocket.

"I am discovered,

But can't be taught.

I was given,

And can be shared.

I am real without condition

And not when there is one.

I can't be bought

But can be taken.

What am I?" I recited.

Confusion crept in his face, probably because of my random question.

"I'm sorry," I said after realizing how stupid it was. I didn't wait for his answer and ran.

That's when I knew.

We're both speaking a different language that neither of us understood.