Ifrailian Tales

Was it worth it

All in all I'd say I lived a normal life. I remember playing at the playground as a child. Spending all my time pretending to be a soldier fighting the "evil" Federation. Those were simpler times, everything was so clear back then. But just like everyone else my childhood had to come to an end, opening myself up to this web of lies we call life. It wasn't all bad, my life would peek at certain points while dropping at others. We all have our lowest points it just happens that I went through mine when I was sixteen.

"I'm sorry ma'am" The man at the door said, his tone was straight and bland. I guess after watching so many families fall apart it just becomes part of the daily routine. I could see him place his arm on my mother's shoulder, a half hearted attempt to comfort a woman who just became a widow. Her hand moved swiftly, brushing his  aside. I couldn't see anything but knowing my mother she probably forced herself to smile, a facade she used to hold back the feelings of grief that were slowly coming to the surface.

"...Thank you for telling me" She replied in a hushed voice not much higher than a whisper. My mother tilted her body forward, bowing to the man. He must have understood what was about to happen because all he did was nod, then he turned away. The second my mom shut the door, she broke into tears. Pressing her back against the door, covering her face with her palms almost as if she was trying to shield herself away from reality. I overheard all of this from the kitchen, honestly hearing about my dad's death... really did a number on me.

I was assaulted with a barrage of emotions, I had yet to experience in my young life and I wasn't sure how to deal with them. I snuck out of the back door, of course I should have comforted my mother but I was a naïve teenager who wanted nothing more than to be alone. My house was built into the side of a hill, so the walk down it's surface was more like a slide. After making my way down the hill, I sorta wandered around aimlessly, no real destination in mind I just wanted to get away from everything.

Soon my little excursion into the forest went into the evening. After awhile I dropped to my knees and fell back onto the grass. I can still remember the distinct feeling of the grass poking into the back of my neck. The aroma of the forest tickling my nose as I laid there, contemplating my future without my father. The details are fuzzy, all I can remember was my eyes feeling dry and that's when I met him, a man dressed in a charcoal black tuxedo.

"Good day," He started, "What're you doing out at this time of day?" 

I titled my head to right, my eyes glued to the strange man before my eyes.

"What're you doing wearing a full tux in the middle of summer," I snapped back at him, my tone filled to the brim with teenage angst. This didn't seem to phase the man who pulled out a pack of cigarettes, popping one of the cancerous sticks into his mouth. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flip lighter, which was ghostly white in color. Just before lighting his cigarette he glanced down at me and lowered the pack of cigs to my level, "You smoke?"

Even though I was well below the legal age to smoke, I couldn't have given less of a f**k. Then under the moonlit sky, I shared a smoke with a stranger in the middle of the Alexandrian forest. After a quiet period the only sound that filled the air was the light buzzing of bugs and the  rustling of tree branches. It was quite relaxing, that's when the man broke the silence.

"Something's bothering you," I shot a curious look his way, I took a long puff of the cigarette, the tip glowed as the embers burned brightly. Before snuffing out the flame by grinding the tip against the ground.

"Damn I'm that obvious huh," I looked away, since I finished the cigarettes I began picking at the grass, something to keep my mind occupied while I collected myself.

"Well, I seem to have a knack for these kinds of things," the man chimed in, looking my way with a friendly grin. For some strange reason I felt at ease and for the life of me I couldn't tell you why. With my guard dropped, the words started pouring out my mouth. Soon my new friend knew my entire life's story. Everything from my black and white view on the world, to my father's recent passing and even so, it seemed as if he already knew all of it. During my time in the woods there was only one thing I wanted, an escape. The man inhaled, pulling the rolled up nicotine away from his lips, puffing out a cloud of gray smoke.

"Hm, are you sure you should have left without comforting your mother?"

"Yes, no, I don't know..."

"Well, I'm sure she's worried sick, perhaps you should head back home-"

"No," I shouted, "No, I can't go back..." My sentence trailed off towards the end. The stranger furrowed his brow and turned to face me. I could feel his gaze burning a hole straight through me. I averted my eyes, which were frantically darting around our surroundings.

"No? and why is that," He questioned, dropping the cig to the ground, stomping it with his boot grinding it into dust. An exaggerated sigh left my lips and I slumped back against the ground.

"I can't face her after this," I mumbled, "H-How am I supposed to explain this?" I sniffled, failing to hold back the tears that once again overtook my vision. I brought my arm up and wiped my eyes, attempting to formulate a sentence. Yet all that would come out of my mouth was a few letters before I'd stop, take a deep breath and try again.

"Are you having trouble speaking," the man questioned, tilting his head to the side. 

His lack of understanding about the most basic of human emotions distracted me from my cluttered state of mind.

"What's with you, haven't you ever been sad?" His reactions to the strangest things still puzzle me even now. He was definitely an odd fella, after that with the blankest of stares, all he said was, "No I can't say I have." Before I could respond to that statement he stopped me. Out from his shirt pocket he plucked out a small, violet colored notebook. I looked on curiously, wiping away the last of the tears as he flipped through the pages, getting through a good third of the  the book before coming to a stop.

"Ah, I see..." He said scratching his chin with his right hand. My mind was set ablaze with different theories as to who the hell this man was and what was written between those pages.

"I think I have a decent grasp on the situation now,"

"Huh, what're you talking about?"

"Your situation, I believe I have a solution," Now I was definitely curious, I yet again pulled myself off the ground and met the man's gaze. Satisfied, he returned the book to his shirt pocket and spoke.

"You're lost, a young man without a purpose in life."

At the time I didn't wanna believe him, I was still young so there was still time, time for me to find something meaningful to do with my life. But looking back at it, there wasn't really any doubt about what I'd choose to do with my life. I had been conditioned from birth to idolize the brave men and women who served in the Alexandrian military. Hell, my father was a ranking officer for god's sake, so of course I dreamed of enlisting, but all things considered, can I really say I made that choice of my own will? Whatever the case, I snapped at the man.

"Hey I have a purpose, I'm gonna serve in the military one day."

"Well it'll be a few years before you can go down that path, What will you do till then?"

I knew he was right, at that moment in time I had no idea what I was going to do. If only I had been born two years earlier, I thought to myself and almost as if on cue, the man tossed a card onto the ground beside me. I picked the card up and the man spoke.

"Well, I believe this should help you out." I was stunned, inside my hand was my identification card. Peter Brea, my name was listed under a small portrait of me. But something was off, the age, the age had been changed. It now proudly stated in black print, that I was 18 years old. My jaw was hanging open, it wasn't easy counterfeiting I.D cards, most black market dealers don't even bother attempting it. And yet somehow this man had given me a flawless recreation of one. During my bewilderment, the stranger made his exit, but before he left my line of sight he had one last thing to say.

"You are quite perplexing, I can't say I understand your thought process. But it is very entertaining." After letting out a chuckle, he moved out of sight and I was left alone. Although I didn't know it then, that encounter with the stranger set me down a path that leaves only one thought in my mind, was it worth it?