I'M NO ORDINARY MAN

CHAPTER 1

The postman walked away from his final responsibility, his final job, and into the carefree - mundane daily existence. His task wasn't as difficult as you might believe, nor was it as simple as you might assume.

All he had to do was deliver envelopes that had to be sent the next day. And he generally completes them before the evening arrives. Now it's time to return home and take a shower before his dinner date at the Excellence De France Dinner Diner. The drapes were swung aside as he went away, and two large, piercing blue eyes peered towards the post-box.

A maid rushed down the stairs a few moments later, clothed in plain white and black, as is customary for a maid. She dashed into the house, clutching the brown envelope, as if a hundred Labradors were chasing her. She gazed at the envelope as she proceeded into the home, towards the ominous staircase that swirled upwards like some kind of insane maze before going to her mistress' fancy chamber.

It was dark brown, thick, and swollen. It even had a gilded seal on it, the kind that only the wealthy and snooty would use. She'd arrived at the end of a long, never-ending tunnel. She remembered herself to deliver it to the last door on her right, not the one that stood out among the dismal doors for no apparent reason. Before approaching to the last door, she gazed at the white door on her right, which could make a lion feel scared and tremble with terror.

She tapped on the mahogany door, a little hesitant as she felt everything freeze around her. Being in this house, being a part of the family, pushed her to recall the rules that had been implanted in her head so long ago.

RULE 1: BEFORE ENTERING, KNOCK ON THE DOOR.

This, on the other hand, only had to be done once. Otherwise, the mistress will become your personal nightmare.

RULE 2: YOU MUST RESPECT THE RESPECTED'S VISITORS.

In this situation, the visitors were not at all friendly. They were long-faced women with a penchant for critiquing everything. If you don't follow this guideline, you can say goodbye to your monthly benefits. Not only that, but she wouldn't be able to see Chris, her favorite little pal, in the house. That was arguably the worst torture she could go through, and the mistress was well aware of it.

RULE 3: COMPLETE THE ACTIVITIES ON THE LIST.

Otherwise, you'll be fired. If she had a family, she could at the very least go back and tell them, and cry about it. But being here, and the fact that she was an orphan, didn't help her in the least. At times, she wished she could just spit on the mistress’ face and leave the hell hole once and for all.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

‘Enter ,’ the feminine voice came and so was

the response to the continuous knocks.

‘A very good morning, mistress. Is there

anything I can do for you?’ greeted the maid.

The mistress, as usual, was admiring herself at the mirror. The mistress was beautiful, but her mean behaviour destroyed it. And here she was playing with her hair. She motioned the maid forward, her eyes fixed on the envelope in the hands of the dressed in white maid.

‘This was delivered just now, ’ the maid said awkwardly and gave the letter to the mistress. The mistress pulled out a long silver blade and sliced the side swiftly. The blade glinted as bright as it was sharp and the envelope was open she read through it. She grinned in satisfaction.

‘Who delivered this? ’ she questioned the

maid. ‘The postman,’ the maid said. But her real intention was to say a policeman. Hey, what’s wrong with a little sarcasm in life? Right?

‘Leave now, and call my son here. Never

linger, ’ the mistress ordered.

‘Yes, then I shall continue attending to the

dishes, mistress, ’ the maid said and walked out of the room. Now, my buddy’s room, she

thought. The door opened as soon as it was

pushed. I looked up at the sudden intrusion.

‘Your mother is awaiting your arrival at her

chamber, ’ said the maid. That’s when we both burst out laughing.

‘I thought I had already told you not to speak to me in that ancient manner. It gives me ‘real bad’ goose bumps and it means ‘real bad’ for my reputation, ’ I stated.

‘Well, I had the ‘real bad’ impression that

your mother had installed a CCTV in here, ’

the maid said, while straightening her apron. ‘Of course, she did. For two things actually,

one to see if I keep to my daily f*******:

curfew and to spy on whatever you do when you come up here. I reprogrammed it, though, ’ I said pointing at the screen of my ACER laptop. On it was a scene of the maid talking to me in a polite – ancient way.

‘Wow! How did you do this? ’ exclaimed the

maid to me.

Pointing at the trail of wires that scaled a

hidden section of the wall rising up to the automatic CCTV that changed direction every few minutes. I pressed a small button under my table as the wall compressed the wires, and lo and behold, the wires were gone.

‘HIM, Human Illusion Modifier, ’ I explained.

‘I think you’d better go now. Your mother

might get impatient’ the maid continued before strutting out of the room. I stepped and turned for my mother’s room.

As I pushed the door, cold air rushed at my

face. I closed the door silently behind me.

There was a torn envelope on the table beside me. I took it and noticed a junior college seal.

‘Here,’ said my mother, waving a white, and a picture of a lotus printed at the side of the

letter. I moved forward to take it and noticed

that it had been folded neatly into three halves. It had already been opened, but someone –probably… No, obviously my mum – had stapled it back. One part of it had been torn unevenly and I could see the trace of a hole running along the side. I noticed a small logo at the bottom of the page. ‘Add us on

Facebook’. I laughed because I knew my

mother hated it.

To Mr Christopher Lois,

We have accepted you to our college which is West High Junior Academy. But to enter this college, you have to first go through an orientation program in the woods of Samara. Once the adjudicators there have passed you, you can enter this college. For further questions and other relative inquiries regarding this matter or in need of more information, feel free to contact the college.

Principal, WEST HIGH COLLEGE

DEAN: 984 724 6768

OFFICE: 683 456 7267

‘What is this?’ I demanded, pointing at the

letter. ‘I sent a request application to West High Junior College. You’re going to the college’s camping orientation tomorrow, ’ replied my mother. ‘Plus, you’ll have a bright chance since my colleagues are the adjudicators themselves.’ ‘Mum! Do you even care if I, I repeat, if I want to go? ’ I shot back at her in anger. At the moment, all I felt was anger. I didn’t want to leave my hi-tech, awesome room and f*******: for some dumb college for junior students. This had to be because of something. I wanted confirmation. It must have been the work of those long – faced idiots. ‘Of course, I did. Doesn’t my act of choosing the best school show it to you?’ my mum muttered.‘Show what, mum? That you want me to get f*****g lost from here? ’ I yelled. ‘Yes... A little – Wait , I meant... No! It showsthat I care about you. Mind your manners when speaking to your mother, young man,’ came a response of me using the F - word. The stupid language rule, f**k it. ‘I hate you! f**k the school and f**k everything!!!’ I shouted angrily before running out of the room. I rushed into my room, pulled open my refrigerator and took out a bottle of champagne. I was really stressed and I wanted a drink. My mum would literally kill me if she saw me with this. Well, at least this was way better than going out with girls, which seemed really very gross compared to this.

I felt the liquid descend down my throat, and the effect was instantaneous. I felt mesmerised all of a sudden. I spied a piece of paper and a pen lying on my writing desk which I never use. I noticed a lot of books arranged on it as well.

I tore open a page, and as I tried to sit

down, the chair gave away. Kicking it out of the way, I sat down hard on the floor and scribbled the following words:

I'm out of the freaking hell hole,

Chris

I had the urge to use the F word but decided against it. Where the small part of reason came from, I had no idea. Staggering slightly, I stuffed my clothes and a torch inside my other bag. My mother’s voice echoed in my head,

‘We leave tomorrow!’ . The words repeated over and over again, making me feel sick. Fine! If she wants me to get lost from here, I will. How saneness returned was not obvious, I thought. Now, for my most prized possessions.bI moved to the back of the room where I hid my cash, my laptop and my diamond. Just a few turns and the safe sprang open with a soft click.

Now, for the alarm system, I thought as I inserted a small chip into it. The alarm system stopped. The champagne effect was wearing off as my vision was 20/20 once again. I reached in and took my things. Keeping the laptop in a separate part of my bag, and placing the cash and the bank card in the base of the bag, I saw the gold diamond.

My thoughts lingered back to my old school trip to Nepal, specifically around. I remembered myself wandering off and finding it in an old village house. The house had been completely empty except for this diamond and a few drawings. I shuddered as I remembered the grotesque pictures. I had nearly missed the flight due to this adventure.

But I had kept it a secret, never trusting

anybody at such a young age. I never even showed it to my mother. I threw the diamond into my bag along with my other things. I took the glass again, poured myself champagne and drank to my full content. Everything became fuzzy and I staggered around the room. I fell to the ground, and my leg tripped over something. I slid to the floor and my hand struck the wall. My room began to shake but I was losing it all…