Regrettable Choices

5000 Words
December 25. 14:35 pm Crowd, loud voices, car honking, street fighting, police sirens and the typical smell of dried up piss in the air. People's senses were already used to disturbing aromas in this city, carrying on with their lives like it was something normal. Well.. It is normal. Everyday life here would be a signed death wish for someone new. I remember myself when I was just a freshman, felt like I have walked into the jungle in a survival show. Surrounded by snakes and tigers, poisonous plants and untrustworthy fellows. The walk of life was spontaneous, a crippling environment that would devour a newbie utterly. Upon anyone's arrival, as I would secretly joke, it's in their obligation to have a pen. The ink must be red, so that the white sheet with their name on it, could be signed in the color red. A signed contract that says 'whatever happens, we are under no obligation to carry out the expenses, and are not to be taken as guilty'.  Avalon City is a make over everyone would wish for. But rarely anyone makes it out alive. If you have a chance to view the city from above, the huge buildings would seem like tiny houses, and all in all, the enormous aura of death and crime would dissipate into thin air. Up above, you would look down and think, this city is beautiful. Nights are filled with vivacious colors, bright lights that scream I am alive. Aside from that and the beauty of the parks spread out across it, the people who live, work and lotter around on the streets, are exceptional. Truly, a jungle for strange animals. Even the worst kind of human could live here and you wouldn't know it until last minute. Businessmen, salarymen, journalists, doctors, nurses, shop owners, CEO's, billionaires, millionaires, even underground bosses and the henchmen, they all gather in this mysterious yet unbelievably suffocating city. Everything you do will contribute to how many points you've gained in the game of survival. Depending on your skill and your importance on this earth, you are set in a class and are forced to follow the rules. Though I say this, as though it were real, until you experience the dread that the looming clouds bring, you wouldn't take me seriously. You'd say I'm lying and that it couldn't be that bad. It is. It's a nightmare. And yet, for some unknown reason, all these people, including myself, stay here. They live on and carry on with their everyday routines, contributing to their lifestyle, creating and building new lives. But, I'm not going to lie; they have the greatest coffee shops. The taste is simply scorching, mixing in your mouth and burning through your throat, giving you a shockwave that snaps you awake. It works even after a hard morning in college, when I'm sitting at the small café, trying to not slump in the chair out of tiredness. Everything is bubbly around me and yet I can't bring myself to enjoy the lovely day in this cold winter.  I check my watch then take out my phone, scrolling down the messages. The group-chat is alive, as per usual. Unamused, I lower my phone and look in the direction of the Grand Royale Park. It was right across our campus. Campus, which is out in the open, in the center of the city, circles around the Avalon University. Said to be the most expensive and hardest, alongside Harvard. Even if it pains me, I have to vouch for that rumor. There's no doubt that most of the money this city gets, goes into this prestigious college, that only the best and the smartest can enroll.  How did I get in? Easy-peasy. The entrance exam was a piece of cake, which in the beginning gave me doubts, but when the classes started and the schedule arrived at my table, I realized that I would need more stubbornness than smarts to pass a year. It's not the same for anyone, but if I had to say anything about this institute, it would be that it's time consuming. They tie you to your work chair until you can't feel the muscles in your buttocks. As years pass, the time consuming regime becomes exponentially bigger, and you're left wondering whether you'll make it just in time to pass an exam.  My eyes almost roll back as the tiredness overtakes and chases away the inner monologue. I've been sitting for quite some time, thinking about how this city takes so much from its people, but gives so little back. Not that I particularly care. Since I have nothing else to do, this college and the friends I've made are simply time killing machines. My boredom isn't easily cured, but somehow I've managed to enjoy the two years that I've been here. In this college. In this city. Suddenly, the calmness of everyday bustle in the streets, is interrupted by a series of several squeals. The sound travels straight through my ears, and I'm forced to look at the two figures that approach the cafe. Two chairs become victims to their weight as the two figures sit down to face me. A blonde and a brunette, giggling over the hot news that spread around our college. As my initial guess was confirmed by the curious and mischievous looks that they gave me, my head falls back for the nth time. Completely uninterested by their gossiping, my body slumps in the chair, muscles completely relaxing. The coldness of the December wind does nothing to wake me up, and my eyes close for a brief moment. I feel the gentle pull of dreamland, leading me into the skies that hold different doors to different dreams. Their voices fade, the city fades and I'm almost fully asleep on this chair, in this cafe.  "Are you listening?!" The sharp, high tone of her voice startles me. My body jumps at the loudness and I open my eyes. Pulling myself up, dazed from the sleepy coat, I stare at the two individuals. If it were someone  else, I would've probably ignored and just continued to doze off, but with these two, there was no way I would be getting any peace. Even if I were to ignore them, they would find a way to pull me into one of their gossips or schemes.  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I rub my eyes tiredly, before finally letting out a sigh. "I'm awake.. I'm awake." The two of them stare at me, before bursting into laughter at the dazed and unruly state I was in. I scoff, crossing my arms and falling back in the seat. Their voices ring in my ears as I struggle with myself, not wanting to listen to them, but slightly irked by the new rumor. Even though I wasn't listening, before I nearly fell asleep, I managed to catch a few words that strayed into my ears.  "Aite, spill out the juices." I finally speak when their laughter dies down, giving them an opportunity to entertain me with the bit of fun information. They exchange glances, smirking to themselves before one of them takes the task of exposing the topic.  My attention falls on Emilia. An overly short girl, or I was simply too tall of a human, with long blond hair that was curled into neat locks falling over her shoulders and back. Her eyes were a soft chocolate brown, always gleaming with mischievousness when she was very into teasing or joking around. A 5"2' girl with a fiery temper. Then again, aren't the short ones always the feistiest?  She was one of those to never let you live down one of your stupid mistakes. She had a cute, round shaped, tiny face with her cheeks always tinted red as she laughs or chatters with her friends, or colleagues. But her talent for digging up new information, or even old, forgotten books, notes and scripts necessary for studies or simply entertainment, shouldn't be underestimated. She knew her way around with people, how to speak, act, avoid or even lead on someone in order to get what she wanted. She was the mouth, ears and eyes of the group. I would say even the brains, but I can't leave out the fact that I, myself, am a part of the group. Though I never questioned her intelligence, nor did I ever doubt the information provided by her, I can proudly say that I'm the one that does all the hard. Not that I'm belittling her ability to extort information and the process needed to complete that.  In these two years of hanging out with both of them, I learned a few useful tricks and ways of how to avoid unnecessary encounters and gain what I need for something utterly useless to me. Or I would simply call Emilia to dig me out of an uncomfortable situation. I admit, the girl was always only a call away from whatever I needed. And she never told me no. "This morning I was passing by the section for student questions and-" The dramatic pause is an appreciated skill in story telling. However, applied in these situations, over time, it becomes rather irritating. My brows furrow for a second as I gesture her to hurry it up.  "Another student went missing." I blinked, eyes now fully opened. Staring straight into her brown eyes, I realized that this was a more serious topic than I had presumed. Emilia considers every information critical and important, while I divide and leave out those that I deem unnecessary and useless and save those that aren't. And yet, here I was, assuming that it would be an idly interesting topic. It was, in fact, rather important.  It was shocking, yes.  But it wasn't new. During the past few months more and more students went missing in Avalon City. I don't know the exact pattern, but I do know that different colleges were all around Avalon, from hills to cement, from the mountains out of the main city area and all the way till the exit that is connected with the main road. Students went missing from all of them. Two, as we figured, each month and in the most strangest way. I wasn't too keen on figuring out the mystery behind the killer who was rounding up corpses in every corner.  "And this time it's from our section." My eyebrow involuntarily perked up as she spoke. This is the first time that anyone went missing from our college. Police and the detectives assigned to the now growing case, at first thought it was just the usual fling for the students to go away for 48 hours, partying and playing around with their drunk or drugged friends. But after the first one disappeared, the second one did and then another, and another, until they started to panic and actually indulge themselves in the sleepless nights and scary, deadly research on all the criminals that actually could be involved in the massive missing person case. Then the bodies started showing up. Occasionally two, if the families were lucky enough. They were found in a different place from which they went missing, and it was never the same way. Some went missing after a party, never returned home, some went missing from their apartments, some after school hours had ended. Some even went missing during classes. The bodies would turn up miles away from the places. Victims, as they've said, had serious amount of injuries. All were strangled. So far, none of them were sexually assaulted, as there was no semen found on the victims.  "I think it was one of those older students. The principal and his secretary, along with all the older teachers were there." She continued on as I was deep in thought about the past cases of the students who weren't found. Or turned up dead. What's actually quite sad is that the people of this town address this issue like reading the usual s**t in the newspaper. They shake their heads, throw in a comment about how the police is doing nothing and then resume their everyday life like it never happened. Truly the saddest thing ever. But also amusing to an extent. It's funny how the citizens aren't concerned for their own safety. That is one of the reasons I said this city is a survival campus. You always need to expect to be in danger and always be prepared for anything. Since us students were being targeted, there was no concern for the working folks. Or the younger generations. But the police, although it was giving its hardest, was making slow progress. The news mentioned that there was very little evidence to be brought back with the dead personas, except for the body itself.  "Do they have any new clues?" Emilia shook her head looking down into her hands almost sadly, as she fiddled with her fingers. From the way she was fumbling with them, I noticed that she was slightly shaking. To my surprise, it was the first time I ever saw her this affected by something. The usually calm and collected girl, who has the potential of an alpha leader, was shaken up by the information she had dug out herself. "Just the usual." The news weren't tad bit refreshing, but it did give me a much needed wake up call. I was fully awake now, with my concentration raised at least to 80%, which is much, much better than barely keeping my eyes open. Emilia continued fiddling while I mourned over the now cold coffee before me, reluctant as to whether I should drink it or just leave it. My empty wallet for the day protested and I ended up drinking the bitter, cold liquid.  My toilet won't be liking the outcome of this choice. 17:32 pm The traffic was devastating, people now going off work and their duties, traveling home in their fancy cars, while I stood at the station waiting for my bus to arrive. Emilia and my other very loved friend, Stacy, were chattering about the, not surprisingly, another gossip of our professors and students involved. If someone were to follow our daily life, they would say that it always revolved around college, students, professors and unrequited love or one night stands that were now stuck to our subconsciousness like the greatest mistake of our lives.  The icy wind from this morning was even worse tonight. I closed my arms around me, trying to contain as much warmth as I can. Classes lasted awfully long. Every and each professor warned us to be safe going home and to lock everything up after we get there. Now that University itself was jeopardized, it was clear that the worries were raised. More was at stake. Parents were confronting the council of the institute, accusing them of not taking care of their students, giving them a hard time about the carelessness of their professors. When in truth, it was the city itself to blame. Avalon was a target for criminals. They could emerge from anywhere and never get caught. Because of the percentage of criminal activity, it was hard for APD to keep up with everything. Minor cases were left untouched, while those that haunted the city itself were made a priority. Even if a murder is committed, the killer would be able to get away with it if the uniformed citizens were busy with a bigger fish in this cruel sea.  "Of course that she will pass the year, she didn't do it for nothing." The sarcastic, known Stacy tone made it into my ears and I finally relented on joining into the conversation. There was no point in wrecking my brain over the facts I already know.  For the nth time in my years of knowing her, my eyes fell onto the figure of the slightly shorter girl. She was almost my height, reaching only a few centimeters over my shoulder, with a slim figure and a body to kill for. She wasn't skinny, just the ideal width for her height, a brunette with a tendency to always be sarcastic and good at comebacks in an argument. She is an expert in poking your weak spots, aware that in that way she would be able to persuade you to do or say what's needed. Always gets away with everything and always gets what she wants. But although her personality could be considered a bigger b***h than any you've ever seen, she has a heart of gold. She would never leave a friend stranded or emptyhanded. She's there when you need her, and there when you don't know you need her.  "Speaking of that.." Stacy turned her head and gaze towards me and I immediately sweat-dropped at the look she gave me. I didn't even need to think to know what was going to come out of her mouth, simply preparing myself to shrug it off. "Still a virgin  Rose?" I closed my eyes for a brief moment, letting the words sink in. I hear those words every day, every week for the past two years I was with her and truthfully, I never thought I was going to make it this far with her constant nagging and poking.      Yes, at the age of 21, I was still a virgin and still not ready to go out of my comfort zone and feel someone's hands roam all over my body and private areas. Firstly, I was never interested in having a boyfriend so I could have mindless s*x like the two before me. Secondly, I admit that I'm a coward when it comes to physical contact, which makes my insides churn and twist in every way possible. It was just my psychology, my personality that I am socially awkward, but I do try my best to stand out when it comes to meeting new people. That's a lie. I couldn't care less about how I'm presented. If there's need for me to speak, I'll speak, if there's need for me to tell what I'm thinking, I'll speak my mind, if there's need for me to jump into a situation, I will do that. But if there is no need for me to put effort in, I won't. Just like how s*x isn't interesting, some people aren't interesting either. It's a miracle I befriended these two.  Correction. It's a miracle these two were able to befriend me.  "Still not minding your own business Stacy?" I tilted my head with a blank expression, showing that I was not affected by her attempt to tease me. The trick with her is that if she sees even a trace of confusion, embarrassment she will seize the chance and continue to poke, tease and even slightly insult, in a joking way, in order to get you to fall for her trick of making you do the thing you'd just rather forget about. Aware that I knew my way around her little game, she mumbled under her breath offering me a look that said game on. "Em, did you hear? They finally decided to open up the service!" Emilia gave her a what-the-hell-are-you-blabbering-about look, trying to avoid being involved in the poking game once again. She would always slip away. Whenever it was time for Stacy's mind games, Emilia was gone. When the games end, she would magically reappear, as if nothing ever happened. Confused and slightly uninterested, Emilia replied. "Who..?" Stacy shook her head at her friend's pathetic attempt and draped an arm around the shorter female's shoulder. "Remember we talked about them yesterday? The experts." It didn't take more than 3 seconds for  the blonde to catch on, her eyes widening as her head snapped to the brunette, while I simply stood before them, eyes going between both their faces in slight confusion. Even though it didn't take much for one to actually be confused with their gibberish talk. As for Stacy, she was purposely going around the subject, beating around the bush just to get me interested. So that I would ask questions. So that I would want to know.  "Are you serious?!" What I didn't expect was for Emilia's eyes to receive a gleam that meant she was in for the scoop. I continued observing and listening to their conversation , still not having the slightest idea on what the topic was about and who the experts were. That is until the two turned in complete excitement towards me, giving me the puppy eyes I absolutely hated. I knew I was in for some s**t I wouldn't be able to get out of. "We have gift for you!" The both of them said in unison, their hands clasped together as they inched closer towards me. I backed away, in slight fear of what exactly the said present would be. With them, you could never know when you're being pulled into some weird s**t until the very end.  "Uh-no thanks." I uttered the words and their faces fell, taking an annoyed look as they crossed their arms over their chest. What are you two, twins? "That is very rude, you know we both mean the best." "I second that, and honey, that's not how you will get a boyfriend." I mentally face-palmed at how they faked being offended by my reply. Though, I have to admit, these two being little babies was worse than being two nagging adults. Knowing that if I don't accept this, I'll be sorry for the rest of my life, I had no choice but to let up.  Them being together should be considered a crime. "Fine. What is it?" I said carefully, but regretted it immediately when they smirked to each other. "We are giving your V-card a kick!" In my whole life I had never really expected for myself to be in this position, and in this moment. The future can never be predicted, and all we can do is prepare ourselves as much as we can for the unknown to come. Or in my case, I should have never accepted the gift which was a death wish at the same time. Unknown time I stared at the cascading light, fingers tightening around the trigger. Their voices were already blurred out. Just like they taught me. 'Turn it off', they said, 'You have to turn it off'. Because the effects were best when  you turn it off. It was easier then. It was just like killing a bug. The solidity of the gun, whose metal pressed into my hand, had some sort of concrete base which I was now leaning on. If it wasn't for the cold weapon, I would've lost the only bit of rationality I had.  Their screams echoed, their voices drowned, their faces faded. The cascading light above the broken mirror, flickered on and off. It showed me the image of someone they had created. After years and years, their creation was finally loose and now they've become the hunted. After years and years, the killer became the savior, the mercenary became the hero, and the liar became the leader. The tables have turned. Blood has been spilled, bodies have decorated the floors. The house was on fire. It's hard to breathe. Why did I burn the house? Oh, yes, the b***h wouldn't die. The screaming child wouldn't die. Why did it have to be a child? What day is it? The voices came back, the memories flooded, and I fell to the floor of the tiny bathroom in the back of a cheap club. The gun was still there. It was always there. To remind me. To mark me. To suffocate me and judge me. To tell me that I would never get away and that my actions will always follow me. For the rest of my life. What life? I had no life. I laughed. I heard my own laughter, now foreign. I was dazed, confused, drugged and buzzed at the same time. The house was just down the road. Yes, down the road, up the hill, through the gate and the great yard. The house was burning.  Has it been a week? Or less than a week? I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I don't know why or what or where or who. Don't ask me. But I need to remember. I need to remember. Where was it? Was it the room next to mine or the room where the artifacts were? Or where the weapons were. I don't know. Don't ask me. But I need to remember where it was. Where I left it. The child. I forgot the child. I left it. It wouldn't die. I heard it. It wouldn't die. Why wouldn't it just die? The child. Who's? I don't know. Don't ask me.  It was one of them. The new ones. The ones that were just taken. The brother and sister. Yes. It's hers. She's 12. I remember her. Analia. Her name was Analia. I remember when she came in. She was 12. And then she was pregnant. She was. The child, it's cries were so loud. But the child, it was the key. The key to everything. Analia knew. She knew even though she was 12. No, it's been 3 days. 3 days and 3 nights.  I now know, because I had been hiding in this bathroom for 3 by 3 marks on the wall. And the child that had been constantly crying, hungry and dehydrated, was driving me insane. The drugs are still in my system. I can't focus. But I remember Analia and her baby. The baby that I had taken from that cursed place and brought it with me. She begged me to. She was almost gone. But she protected her baby. And now I'm stuck here, drugged and buzzed, with a dying baby. It just won't die. And I don't know where to leave it. Where do I go with it? After all, the house was just down the road and up the hill, secluded between the trees. That were now also burning. I heard it on the TV of this cheap whatever it was. The hills were burning. Several people dead. 2 children amongst them.  Analia was dead. I was her mentor. But she was dead. And I'm hiding in a bathroom with a baby and a gun.  Yes, I remember. I remember her and the little bundle of her joy. I remember the men. I remember the promise. The sun and the rain. The great yard as it turned to ash. I remember the hand that was pulling the trigger. I remember the family that was begging for their life. I remember the men had regretted their choices. They regretted unleashing their creation. That thing that killed them all. It was out there. Stalking. Waiting. Thinking of the best moment to strike. It was waiting for that one split moment of weakness, where I wasn't looking. To take this child. To kill it. Or to eat it? No, this isn't an alien story. I laughed. What story? A story of a hero mercenary? What a joke. I'm waiting for whoever is out there, coming to kill us both, to find us. It would be easier if it were aliens.  The baby cries again. I close my eyes. The world swirls and I hurl over to let out what's left of the stomach acid. The drug was wearing off. So slowly. I'm tired. But the gun is here. It's in my hands. Loaded. 2 bullets left. For what? For the monster. It's coming and I only have 2 bullets. I'm drugged. Buzzed. Tired. I won't be able to kill it.  I hurl again.  What day is it?  My head pounds, hands pressing against the dirty tiles so that I can keep my balance. I stare into the eyes of the reflection. I don't recognize it. I don't know who that is. It's someone I have never seen before. I raise my arm with the loaded gun, pointing it at the reflection. Who are you? Why are you here? What are you doing here? Why is the house burning? ..Why is the house burning? "Because they wouldn't stop." Stop what? "They wouldn't stop. Why didn't they stop.." I sob, eyes fogging over with tears. They just wouldn't stop. They were always doing it. So many of us. There was so many of us. But why the house. Why Analia? She could've lived. She could've had a great life with her baby. She could've been a great mother. But she was 12. And the child was her demise. My eyes travel down to the screaming baby. It's so tiny. So tiny. So loud. Obnoxious. A burden. The burning house is down the road, up the hill and I'm stuck in a dirty bathroom of a cheap club. Was it a club? I don't know. Don't ask. It's been 3 days and 3 nights. I have to finish the job. I have to finish what I started. The monster is coming. I have to finish what I started. It's knocking on the bathroom door. I have to finish what I started. It's here. Nobody can leave. Nobody can remain. Nobody can live. Not even the child. Not even Analia. There's a knock on the door. The knob turns, the door doesn't open. It starts to shake and someone screams. I'm screaming. The reflection in the mirror is screaming. The tears won't stop. I have to turn it off. I have to turn it off or I'll break. There is no other choice, just like there is no other monster. I have to finish the job. I look at the baby, the crying annoyance that I had brought with me. Nobody gets to live. Not even Analia or this baby.  The cries stop. The gun is gone.
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