There was next to no little time left.

I rounded the corner and skidded to a halt on compulsory command. Tick-tock, tick-tock. The compact device taunted teasingly. It was slowly becoming a do or die affair.

My heart lurched as the spell was lifted, and my feet went back to work—working faster than my mind.

As I barreled down the path, a fiery fiend backed out up ahead causing my steps to slow down. Not now! Its flashing indicating lights tauting me as it took it’s sweet and glorious time.

My breaths came out in rapid pants as I waited, and waited. Finally, the head was out and its vent sent a chilling smile my way.

Shaking my mind clean of agitation, my feet picked up the pace. Almost there!

The command was given again, but I disobeyed and ran, the load on my back painfully reprimanding me as I did so. I shouldn’t have eaten so much!

Finally, the stop appeared. Almost there! A smile spread across my face.

I skidded to a halt as I looked around, and the smile became painful. The teleportation device had left. My eyes stared holes into the yellow and black machine moving ahead as I started my count to a hundred, and started the dreaded trek.

I can’t believe I was late for school again!

With my knees bent, and my head tucked between them, I took in a deep breath and jumped.

The short burst of exhilaration ended when my feet hit the ground, ankles twisted painfully as I did so. Third time IS the charm! Brushing off the dust that had welcomed me when I landed, I shakily got to my feet. I donned the black hoodie that was tied around my left ankle, and dashed away—well, hurriedly limped away—from the place that had confined me.

My breaths came out in rapt pants as I sagged against a nearby tree trunk. On their own accord, my bleary eyes swept the area. A spineless tree, a one-armed fire hydrant, a supermarket with blinking neon lights, and houses scattered like salt spilt on a table. The charcoal-like blanket of darkness did not allow me see any more. A weary sigh escaped my lips as my breathing started to even out.

Painful steps took me to the mart. Mangel's Mat the sign blinked, the ‘r’ of the mart nothing but a dark hole. It was about closing, the shop. I hadn’t realized it was so late until the guy at the till let out a massive yawn that threatened to swallow me. Almost simultaneously, I let out a long yawn as well.

A few newspapers were scattered around a corner when I searched around, and a dim light bulb went off in my head. Gingerly, I lowered myself onto a mingle of words and faces, letting my back hit the mart's body with an aching thud. I pulled up several newspapers atop my frame, and let my head feel the coolness of the store glass window—my thoughts drifting away as I rubbed at my throbbing ankle.

My eyes shot open as the sound of blaring sirens reverberated through the night. From what I could make out, the cars still seemed far away. I snuggled further into myself and hoped that they hadn’t found me.

My heart beat quickened as the blaring grew louder. And then, it was gone. I drew in a deep breath and lay there for another three hundred heartbeats before I made to move.

Crack! My back spoke for my heart. I straightened myself out and scouted the area again. Up ahead was a bus stop I hadn’t seen earlier, and a park. It was still possible for them to find me if I stayed in this vicinity, and on that thought, I headed to the bus stop.

I hissed in pain as yet another person bumped into me. Cradling my hand, I dragged my aching body to my destination and leaned against a pole. The ground did not serve me well through the night. People were scurrying around like blind ants, bumping into innocent souls like enraged zombies. I rubbed my throbbing hand with the other hoping to soothe the dull pain. It was of no use though, I still felt as though I was tied down by a sack of bricks.

My heart lurched when the dirty blue bus screeched to halt in front of me. I hauled myself to the queue of people waiting and joined. An onslaught of heavy perfumes and scents of all sorts slapped me across the face, making me falter in my steps.

“You’re holding up the queue boy. Get moving!” The bus driver bellowed. His deep voice reverberating, causing chills to scurry down my spine. My hands shot up and rubbed at the sides of my arms—some way to comfort my racing heart.

“Running away from home?” He asked, a bushy eyebrow raised at me as his eyes assessed my form.

“No-no, I—” I didn’t even get to finish before he spoke again.

“Just get on.”

I strode to the nearest vacant seat, and plopped down, my body sagging against the seat once my back hit it. My eyelids fluttered shut as my ears welcomed the low hum and whir of the engine, and I fell into a much-needed slumber.

A throbbing pain on my left shoulder made my eyes shoot open—it felt like a hammer continuously trying to break through.

“C'mon kid, you've got to get off now! I’m done for the day,” a voice said.

My eyes landed on a droopy eyed man.

A feeble ‘thank you’ escaped my lips as I sluggishly hurried to get off the bus. I rubbed at my eyes profusely, but the world whizzing by was still a blur. People were still keeping up with their attacks, and I unsteadily put one foot in front of the other to get away. Everything was out of focus but I could still make out the sidewalk that my feet graced.

My feet came to a stop when my watery eyes made out the shape of people gathered around a particular spot. Upon reaching them, they began to move across. I stood glued to the ground, furiously rubbing at my eyes, only to clutch my head as a wave of dizziness washed over me.

Someone bumped into me from behind, and I found myself stumbling across just as the people had done. I shot my hands out to steady myself on my feet. Left, right, left, right, left. Five more steps and my body crumpled to the ground; I felt as though I was being forcefully dragged down.

I pushed myself up, but found myself harshly succumbing to gravity. On the second try, I had hardly positioned my knees on the ground when a wicked force rammed into me, promptly knocking the wind out of me. Suddenly, it seemed like my vision had cleared a bit, and the clouds were within my grasp. Before I could even stretch out a hand, my breath fled as my side crashed into something terribly sturdy. My head smashed against something hard, and a shrill sound escaped from my lips. I reached out to cradle my head, but found I couldn’t even lift a finger. My breathing grew rapt, and tears began to stream down my face—even that action hurt.

Writhing in pain on the hard ground, I couldn’t help but think—it was foolish of me to think I could escape death.

I watch with a heavy heart

as people go around

throwing care to the wind,

laughing around as they please.

Don’t they know

that they’re being merciless?

That they’re inflicting pain

on my already burdened heart?

I envy their smiles,

their friendships, their lives.

Sadly, they’re not to blame.

I’m basically an onlooker to them.

Studying my life,

I question myself, ‘Why am I so alone?’

‘What’s so bad about me?’

‘Why can’t I make this work?’

Dear heavens, I try!

Each time I try to encourage a smile,

it comes out as a twisted grimace.

Nothing more, nothing less.

But finally, I’m part of something, a group maybe.

Telling myself it’s the start

of a better life for myself,

it only ends up going in the opposite direction.

As I sit among them,

my eagerness slowly diminishes.

It just basically feels like

I’m practically invisible.

I’ve tried to look on the bright side,

but faced the even darker side.

I’ve tried to hold in my tears,

but there’s no use, so I let them go.

Either way, I’ll still be hopeful,

because there are still many days ahead.

But I sincerely hope,

that I can find the strength to wait until then.

The intense dance-off with the striped flamingos and pink zebras suddenly stopped when the ice king came and started attacking us with his icy rays. Abandoning my fellow party animals, I ran all the way to what looked like my fortress, and stumbled in. Glad to be away from the ice king, I sighed in relief only to crack up when I thought of how the winged fishes stole the show earlier in the night. “Nick? Nick, is that you?!” Oh no, the ice king found me! But surprisingly, the floral queen came out. “Your Majesty!” I exclaimed while doing a sweeping bow. “You’ve been drinking again,” I heard her mutter. I heard the sound of footsteps increasing, and I looked up to find no trace of the floral queen. Instead, the sea ostrich was paddling towards me. A wave of fear washed over me and, in my haze, I pushed and kicked at the sea ostrich. At the time, that’s all I saw it as— defending myself from the sea ostrich. Eager to be safely away from the evil doer, I ran into the sanctuary of my room. The next morning, I was embraced by a killer hangover and a confused yet slightly frightened mother—I couldn’t understand why she was frightened.

***

The next time, my feathered and furred friends decided to sit out on me, and I was left to survive the wild on my own. After downing a few drinks, I decided to call it a night. As I made my way out, I found myself cornered by three buff guys. The one in the middle spoke up, “You got guts man, wandering into marked territory.” Sneering, he continued, “I seen your kind before, looking all innocent, and just wanting to ‘party’ when you’re actually here to scout down the area, and report back to the hounds.” Confused by what he was saying, my mind still in a drunken haze, I raised my hands up in surrender as I spoke, “Woah! I’m not here to cause any trouble alright? A friend just introduced me to this place; nothing more, nothing—” I was cut off by a hard punch to the jaw before I could finish talking. Stumbling backwards, I quickly dodged another hit before it could make contact. Angered by my actions, they all charged at me, but it seemed like fate was on my side when somebody from the inside shouted, “POLICE!” With one last gut-wrenching punch, they left me and fled with the others into the night.

Forcing my head to clear, I took off running in the direction I had come in. Making my way towards the house, I unlocked the door and trudged in, only to face my mother’s fuming form. “It’s one in the morning Nick! Couldn’t you be a bit more responsible? You still have school and—” I looked up when she had stopped talking to see her eyeing the nasty bruise that had formed on my jaw. “What in the world happened to you?” she shrieked. “What were you doing?” Not in the mood for her antics, I tried to brush past her but she stood in front of me. “Can we not do this now? I’m tired.” I said frustratedly. “We’ll do this when I want to, and I say now!” She countered back. “Well I don’t okay? So just get out off my face!” I shouted back. It was the alcohol talking, not me. “Are you out of your—” Before she could finish, I pushed her out of my way to go, but I turned back when I heard the sickening crack her back made when it came in contact with the marble top counter. At that, I began to panic. ‘You’re your father’s son’, a voice said tauntingly to me in my head. Stepping back in horror when I heard my mother scream, and watching as her eyes welled up with tears, I ran out of the house and into the night.

***

It was getting harder and harder to control myself. I apologized each time of course, but saying ‘sorry’ just doesn’t do justice. I tried avoiding drinking, but each time I closed my eyes and saw the deranged demon that called himself a father, I couldn’t hold myself back. Most times, I went all out.

Everything spiralled out of control when one day, I heard distressing news—I was going to be a father. Overwhelmed, I ran all the way home. Wheezing as I ran into the house, I came face to face with my mother. Even after all I had done, she never gave up and fought till her very last breath. Running a hand through my hair agitatedly, not in the mood for a screaming match, I side-stepped her and started towards my room. “Nicholas! Get back here right now!” she screamed. “I can’t right now mum, I just can’t,” I told her. Her voice shaky, she replied, “What has gotten into you Nick? I’m trying and all you’re doing is just acting out how you want to. I’m trying here, I really am. I don’t want to you to end up like—” She was already bawling when I cut her off. “Shut up! I just heard I’m going to be a father, mum! I know you’re trying, but you’re the least of my problems right now,” I replied back, my tone matching hers. She was frozen with shock by the time I had finished talking. Suddenly, she started breathing rapidly, and next thing I knew, her body hit the floor, a harsh sound emanating from where her head landed on the floor. Once I had come out of my shock, I hastily called the paramedics, and she was taken to the nearest hospital.

She was pronounced dead the following morning. I couldn’t even bring myself to attend the funeral. It was all my fault. I thought that over and over again several times, and indeed it was.

***

My two months of rehabilitation were finally over. I checked myself into the centre two months after mother’s funeral. After that, I devoted myself to working, day and night, to support my child, and the mother. I decided I was going to be a changed person. Everything my father was not, and everything my mother wanted me to be. I owed her that much at the very least.

***

The day the hospital had called saying my wife was going into labour, I drove at lightning speed from my workplace to get there on time. Anya and I had put our initial differences aside, and decided to make it work for the baby, so, we got married.

A lot of agonizing hours later, a nurse appeared in my line of sight. How I wished my mother was here with me. As she came closer, my heart dropped of my chest at her dejected expression. With sad eyes, she regretfully told me my child was still-born. My face blanched, and my heart broke. I hurried inside to meet my wife, but I was told she was put to sleep because the shock was too much, and her body was in a frail condition. Downcast, I trudged home feeling miserable and empty. The next morning, the hospital called to tell me my wife had died from too much blood loss. I nearly lost it.

Fighting the urge to just end it all, I carted my body to the heavy metal gates I had not seen for a while, and followed the path which was engraved in my brain. Making my way to my mother’s grave stone, my feet immediately gave out, and my knees hit the ground with a heavy thump. And like a new-born child, I wept my heart out till I completely gave out.

“Thank you for your time and patience. Make sure to work on those exercises, and please, don’t be late next time.” If there will be a next time, I wanted to add. Warily, I watched as the skittish bloke bounded out of the room with one last over-enthusiastic farewell.

Heaving a loud sigh, I ran a hand down my bleary face. I can’t take this anymore. One more unhinged character and I think I’m really going to gouge my eyes out. Seeing as I was almost done with the day, I gathered up my papers and began to arrange them in my file cabinet.

As I was sorting out the last of the batch, I heard a ‘beep’ which I knew was for an e-mail. Please let it not be what I think it is. Begrudgingly, I trudged to my computer and opened the e-mail. I wasn’t even shocked at all this time as I read the message from the company. Of course, since when have fate and I ever been on good terms. I had one last patient for the day.

‘Tyler Evers; Age: 11’

That’s all? Just how am I supposed to work with this? Applying for the special care unit had proven to be one of the greatest mistakes I had ever made. I had assumed people would have been ‘cured’ of their problems so I wouldn't have to receive patients but as it turned out, I was gravely wrong.

Letting out a long breath, I began to prepare for the patient just as I heard a knock. “Come in,” I said. A pale brown-haired boy walked in and sat himself on my black couch without even as much as a greeting. I hope this goes fast.

“Hurry, I don’t have all day you know.” Perplexed, I looked around to find the source of the voice and my gaze landed on the boy who was looking at me with curious and expectant eyes. Did he just—

“Yes, I did, now come sit.” I just stared at the boy in front me in shock and then to the window. I should be able to get to there in three strides and quickly jump out.

“Oh, you’re too kind mister,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he spoke. “Please put aside your suicidal thoughts and let’s begin the session.”

Too stunned to speak, I sat down in my seat and regarded the boy with curious eyes. He simply shot me a wide innocent smile and I quickly composed myself. The quicker the better.

“Why are you here?” I asked in what I hoped was a steady voice. I think it was.

“It was don’t worry,” he said. At this point, I could only stare at him with a look of disbelief plastered on my face. “To answer your question, I was sent here. Now Mr.—”

“Payne,” I quickly said.

He just laughed. “I already knew. Anyway, Mr. Payne, why are you here?” He asked.

I stared at him confused. “What?” I questioned.

“And you’re supposed to be a therapist?” he asked coolly with a raised eyebrow.

“O-of course, I am,” I sputtered out quickly.

“So, answer the question, why are you here?” He tried again.

“I work here,” I replied.

Rolling his eyes and sighing, his gaze met mine again. “It’s obvious you work here. Okay, what did you want to grow up to be when you were younger?” He asked.

Curious to know what he was getting at, I answered. “An astronaut.”

Nodding his head, seemingly satisfied with my answer, he continued. “Why?”

“I’ve always had a fascination with the stars and the other heavenly bodies,” I answered, my mind in a jumbled mess.

“Interesting,” he noted. “Well, why didn’t you become one?” he asked. Is this an interrogation? His laugh brought me out of my stupor.

“What?” I asked.

“I asked you why you didn’t follow your dreams and become an astronaut, aside from the fact you had some ‘family issues’,” he said doing air quotes with his fingers when he said family issues.

The word flabbergasted would not even be close to describing how I felt in that moment. “How did you know that?” I asked warily.

He just shrugged. “Eh, I have my ways. Now, you’re avoiding my question.” Was I? “Why didn’t you follow your dreams?” He asked again.

Too stumped to actually comprehend anything again, I found myself responding. “I guess it’s because I dropped out from college, that’s why.”

“Interesting,” he responded. “Your familial problems or whatever were that bad?”

My head bobbed up and down on its own accord. “Yeah, I guess, it was very tough time and I needed to find a way to support my family.”

“Alright, but what made you think that was your responsibility? Is an eleven-year-old really asking me this? You’re still young, twenty-six I reckon,” he said. At that, my jaw dropped. He probably took a lucky guess, yeah that’s it. A very lucky guess.

“Think what you wanna,” I heard him mutter. “Answer the question,” he said again.

“I just felt responsible since I was the eldest son,” I found myself replying.

“Hmm, okay then,” he said while rubbing his chin. “What’s stopping you from achieving that dream now?

“I need money,” I replied immediately.

Nodding his head as though he was noting something to himself, he spoke again, “Why didn’t you try going back to school and looking for a side job at the very least? It’s not your fault your family is like this, so why let your own dreams be sacrificed?” he asked boldly.

I actually found myself pondering upon his words. “Well, honestly, that thought never came to me. I thought I had to be completely devoted to work to help them.” I responded truthfully.

“So, you used your psychology degree from your first year to get this job,” he said nodding his head in understanding. I can’t find it in me to understand him anymore. “Well, I’m glad we made progress. Think about what we discussed today alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With those last words and a curt wave, he was out of the room. I found myself pondering over the whole interaction. Wow! How did I never think of this before? With a new found determination and a set mind, I began to pack up all my things. Goodbye haunting therapy sessions. Hello Antarctica!