Confounded; there was no remorse unsound,

for no resentment could penetrate heart.

If emptiness were the jaded heart,

unfoundedness is the fond uncertainty.

Discontentment in the temperament,

is of causes lost; unbeknownst to person...

The evolution of soul and bone;

of elevation past humanity.

The human does not die—but the person.

In mustering will: the stultus will flee...

For no one: is someone to remember.

Imminent death—Hell’s counterpart is to pay.

The only Will, hence reminded, the Hell:

Who? What? Where?—The deed...

***

Lunchtime, that is the time when students are supposed to eat their second meal of the day. It is between the hours of twelve and one that I find myself as a sheep roaming about the empty streets. Where is it that I go? What is that I must do? Starvation plagues them all—but not me.

Did you know, humans can survive without food for at least a month as long as they are hydrated? Curiously so, I've been testing the results of fasting on my body. This is all in case I am somehow stranded on a deserted island or some area without food. Some days, I would forego food entirely. On other days, I would eat all three meals: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But usually, I'd take out the entirety of my front schedule and only eat dinner: only one meal. That doesn't mean it is a bad thing. As long as I eat the same amount I normally eat, which is about 2,500 to 3,000 calories, I should be fine according to science/nutrition. Now it is heavily debated whether one should or shouldn't skip breakfast because it is 'the most important meal of the day,' so they say. Even though there is no scientific evidence that supports the claim, the idea of eating in the morning is a part of many long-lasting religions and cultures.

Now before I talk about that, I want to make it clear that my diet works for me, but it may not work for other people.

When the human body is supposedly hungry, waves of hormones are released, which causes the stomach to growl; or perhaps a negligible panging from the inside. Thus, the feeling of hunger and our satiety correlates to the number of hormones that are in our system. Now, this is where intermittent fasting comes in. If you habitually control the times of your meals, you will be able to change the schedule of when these hunger hormones will be released. An example is if you got into the habit of eating breakfast at eleven in the morning and lunch at four in the afternoon... Also, in my definition, any meal spanning from twelve to six in the afternoon is lunch.

There's also been some other study about keeping each meal separated by two to five hours. I could care less about that since I usually only eat once a day. Back during my first couple of weeks of changing my eating schedule, my stomach growled all the time in classes, and there would be occasional pain. Despite that, I continued onwards since enduring has always been my forte. Two months: that was around the time when my body got in the habit of not eating in the mornings and afternoons. There was much less of a physiological reaction since the hormones that regulated my hunger would only activate around dinner time. In a way, it is very similar to changing the Circadian rhythm; or as most people call it: the body's internal clock. It's like how people who travel from one side of the world to the other need to adjust their sleep schedules. Believe it or not, hormones also control the level of drowsiness you have. The essential thing to know is that people who travel the world are eating meals at different times of the day whenever they move around. So how hard could it possibly be? Of course, It's quite obvious that my routine is abnormal even amongst people who fast. I do make up for it by making my dinners extremely nutritious—I am, after all, the chef of the house since my parents get home very late.

Anyway, it was lunchtime, so a majority of the students headed out to get food since the cafeteria food was admittedly inedible. There were still some people—30% of them, I would say—who still ate at the school's cafeteria. I didn't like spending my time in the cafeteria since nothing was interesting there. I even more so hated the idea of joining up with others to grab lunch at some fancy deli or those exorbitant pizza places. I must say: whoever had the idea to make a pizza place right next to the school was a genius. They're probably making a lot of money with the number of pubescents crowding there on the weekdays. But I'd suppose that does give them the audacity to raise the price of the most normal-looking slice of cheese pizza. Since it was the only source of sustenance for these hungry highschoolers, it made sense for it to cost four dollars a slice of pizza. In any other area, it would probably cost one or two dollars at most. Now that I look at it, I can see why minors are said to be irresponsible with their money. And as one would expect of America, healthy food was a rarity to come across.

So, where should I wander today? I almost always spend my lunchtime walking around and observing the surroundings. I've gotten so familiar with the place to the point in which I have the map of the entire district memorized.

Through my days of observation, I've come to the conclusion that just like any functioning society, highschool also had its own social hierarchy. This is the sort of thing that the 'adults' always seem to miss. The thing that 'adults' don't recognize is how shallow their understanding of school is. They've been raised by the same education system—yet, it is as if they had never graduated from high school and never experienced the feeling of being a teenager.

Like any society, there were invisible divisions between each and every clique. It was as if an unwritten law had always been in place. The sports group is on the top side of the hierarchy, along with all the other 'popular' ones. Then the middle tier consisted of the nerds and whatnot, or those whose presence was acknowledged, but there wasn't much to say about them. And in the last, are the weirdos: whether they be ugly, socially anxious, or retarded to the hundredth factorial, these guys were somehow almost always recognized and agreed upon to be 'weirdos' without any discussion. Such a thing is only to be expected since it is in human nature to conform to the perceived norms. This phenomenon is called 'conformity' in the field of psychology. Acting the same as others do; becoming a social chameleon; doing when others are in accordance. I consider all these people to be the fools that plague this world.

The bystander effect is one such consequence of conformity. The idea of radical thought or unconventional actions are stopped in the presence of conformists.

One must recognize that those who tend to succeed in life are the eccentric ones of the group; they don't fall into the trap known as conformity. But it is also this trap that presents itself as an obstacle—forcing itself upon these types of people.

Albert Einstein was known to be a poor student with bad grades in maths—but in my opinion, it is all horseshit. Seriously though, use your heads—do people really think some, scientific genius like Einstein would be bad at his studies? Although there is no for-sure way of knowing without going back in time, I find it hard to believe that someone like Einstein would have bad grades. I mean—there are literal records of him graduating top of his class. It makes me wonder how this sort of rumor spread in the first place... Now that I think of it, adults are probably telling stupid kids in math class that Einstein was also bad at math. Therefore 'you aren't actually stupid.' I find it hilarious. Has society devolved to the point in which people need to justify their own stupidity?

Nicolaus Copernicus founded the heliocentric model of the universe: it put the sun in the middle of the solar system instead of the geocentric model that suggested: everything revolved around the Earth. It was lucky that he died right after publishing his book about the heliocentric theory. Since if he hadn't, the Catholic Church would come knocking on his doors. At the time, the geocentric theory was the 'truth' since it has ties with Christian theology. And if the geocentric theory were to be exposed as a myth, then that would have an enormous impact on Christianity's very foundations as a religion. This heliocentric theory would be buried and censored by the Church for quite a while despite being the most accurate one according to modern knowledge of astronomy. And still, it is the majority(Christian higher-ups) that rejects new insights on a matter that could very well be revolutionary. Even after Galileo Galilei came to support the heliocentric theory, the Church still censored the information and put Galileo under house arrest until his death(if it weren't for Galileo's reputation, he would have been crucified like most others).

Socrates—a famous Greek philosopher that everyone probably knows—was sentenced to death under Athenian law because he asked too many questions. These questions happened to be way too insightful or pried deep into a lot of political stuff that included corruption in a democracy and the such(Athens was a democracy). He was also charged with the crime of misleading the youths by corrupting them with his philosophical inquiries and lessons. Despite being the literal father of Philosophy—which would later give birth to Science—he was persecuted.

Heck, Vincent van Gogh wasn't even popularly recognized as a painter. I'm sure there were still some people who admired him even before his death, but his name wasn't made famous until years after his being.

Doesn't anyone else find it strange? The things that tie the right and wrong together aren't actually right or wrong. It's all dogma(rules) laid down by those in power. The Catholic Church had power, so what was identified as right and wrong were in their hands. Athens—under the pretense of democracy—also succumbs to the same thing. Democracy can easily be manipulated. Heck, these days, the presidential elections here in America aren't even determined by the intellect or power of the president—it is by popularity. The masses don't really care who the better presidential candidate is. Most of them want a president that agrees with their beliefs and ideas—they don't care about the good of the nation. What they really want, is a puppet that does what they want and enacts their ideas even if it is detrimental for the long run.

People can be manipulated—it is actually easier than it appears. I'd estimate about 95% of this entire nation is filled with idiots. When all these people are idiots, it makes their actions more predictable. When you can manipulate the people, you can therefore manipulate the so-called 'democracy.' This isn't an opinion—it is a fact. Why else is bribery a thing? The only people who succumb to bribery are the weak-minded: the fools. But there also exists a group of people who despite taking the bribe, don't succumb to it. That type of group would compose of the brilliant geniuses who could see through the entire ploy and figure out which option was most beneficial for them. Intelligent people possess the ability to not just think outside the box—but see the entirety of the box and every three-dimensional aspect of it. So what is it that separates the intelligent people from those who I consider 'geniuses?' Well, geniuses possess the capability to not just see their available options, but also evaluate which action will entail what kind of consequence. In a way, geniuses can simulate or play out ideas in their head before acting.

I realize that I am saying that geniuses are selfish opportunists, but the thing is—life is cruel that way. Even if genius 'good' people do exist, I would almost always bet that the 'bad' are plenty. In the end, it all stems down to the question of what good and bad even is. By good, are we talking about the good for the individual, or the good of the populace? If something is bad for the individual but good for the group, can that really be called good? Let's say you are given the situation: one specific person in a group of a hundred dies. But the rest will be able to live as well as gain access to a lifetime supply of caviar—or they all die equally. Which option is 'good?' Which is 'bad?' Think about it.—What constitutes good and bad? Of course, the thing about such a problem is that it is only hypothetical, and such a dilemma will most likely never occur in reality.

Naive people preach 'equality.' But when given the option of equal death over the death of a single person, it is the same naive people that don't understand what the term 'equality' means. Equality doesn't always mean good. Yet, people think the term is synonymous with 'the good, the righteous, and justice.' People say these things so casually without thinking. How many people can actually define these abstract terms with certainty?

In the beginning, what was known as good and bad depends on culture and religion. To the early humans—those who existed even before civilizations were formed—the 'good' was having food, whereas the 'bad' was becoming food: death. Isn't it interesting how these abstract measurements of the good and bad change so drastically over time?

I, for one, think—

"Hey."

The moment I heard those words, I turned around instantaneously, only to be met with an open hand grasping for my face.

I quickly moved my head away to the side and pedaled my feet backward to create some distance.

I generally had my eyes aimed down at a 45-degree angle when walking since I was accustomed to looking at the lower body of people passing by. There's a lot of things that one can learn from analyzing the lower body since most people are more self-conscious about their upper body. That includes posture, bellies, armpits, eyes, mouth, hair, and face in general. Few people address much attention to managing their lower body—except maybe the groin area. But nevertheless, you can see a lot just by knowing the direction someone's feet are facing or how they manage their clothing.

This particular person had one leg in front with knees slightly bent and with toes facing my direction. He was clearly showing aggressive behavior and—

He came at me with another attack just like the one before: trying to grab at my face for some inexplicable reason. He really didn't want to give me time to assess the situation in any way, did he?

Without questioning why someone would be assaulting me in broad daylight, I dodged the hand as I did before, only to be met with his other fist coming in from the side. It wasn't a bad tactic to block my vision with his hand, but it was a bit amateurish. My eyes or vision wasn't my greatest asset, though I use my eyes the most when I observe my surroundings. My actual trump card is my fast reflexes, which are related to my innate skill in bodily kinesthetics. Having honed my physical movement with a steady exercise routine, my muscle-mind connection; and hand-eye coordination were excellent. Although I had never done boxing or any of those fancy martial arts, the internet was a great teacher. So, I'd have to also say that a liability right now was my inexperience since I've never been in a legit fight. Although—

The person came at me again except with a fist rather than a grabbing motion.

Instead of backing away like before, I knew this was the perfect opportunity to step in and throw a punch. Seeing how the punch he threw was of his left arm, I made nimble of my feet and stepped to the far right and went straight at him. I knew he couldn't pull back the punch, and he definitely could not have punched over his left arm with his right arm—blah blah blah, his side is his blind spot and is vulnerable.

Right as I was about to throw a fist, I took a small fraction of a second to process what was happening. If I were in this guy's position, what would I do...

I figured the person would either try to pivot his body so that he was facing me or go for a last-ditch effort in pulling his extended arm back to guard the incoming punch. So—more enthusiasm please.—SO! WHO SAID I WAS GOING TO PUNCH?!

Instead of stopping there, I took yet another step forward, making my way behind and then pivoting my foot so that I was facing his back. While I was doing that with my feet, I already swung my left arm around his neck. His right arm, the one that didn't punch, had been retracted the whole time. He tried to guard against the 'punch' with his free arm, but that was the flaw. I was never intending to punch in the first place.

Hitting his guard arm with little force, I pushed it past his forearm, allowing my hand to slither around his neck like a snake. Being behind him, I capped my right hand on his hair like a tight military helmet. Now that I looked at it, this guy had surprisingly blonde hair—it was as reflective as those thin little gold sheets that people put on their food.

Anyway, with my left arm wrapped around his neck and my right hand grasping his head tightly, I squeezed hard to administer the rear-naked choke.

I could already feel my biceps burning as they started cramping up. But this much won't work—I needed more pressure. I could already see the guy struggling hard to breathe.

RETRACT!!!

With my head clouded, I pulled back my shoulder blades and scapula all the way back while keeping the chokehold tight and bending back. This guy was a couple centimetres taller than me, so I had to put on as much pressure as I could, or he would inevitably be able to escape.

When I thought I had gotten him, I saw his legs kipping up and then coming back down, slamming me in the shins. It obviously hurt like hell. But if there was anything I was good at, it was enduring pain—even at the cost of irreparable damage to the tendons and muscle. If I live, it doesn't matter. I had many questions, but survival was what mattered right now. When I was moving behind this guy, I noticed how the entire street was empty. Some big event was definitely happening right now—I have to live.

Despite the crazy strain on my two little legs, I extracted every last ounce of force in my biceps and bent backward even further. The muscles on my back and my core were all cramping up, ready to explode—I can't relax. I can't. Keep it tense. Keep it tense... Keep it...

"ARRGH!!!" I let out a loud grunt as I kept the tension in my body. Despite the height difference, I was able to lift the guy off his feet at the expense of my back. After a couple more seconds, I could no longer feel this guy moving, so I dropped him on the ground...

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!

I looked around and made a mental note that the street was emptier than my stomach... Fuck it.

"AARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHGHHHHHHGHHHH!!!" I shouted in agony and in pride, knowing that I lived and that there was no one there to hear me.

Fuck. I don't think I'll be able to exercise for a couple days. It felt like I was the embodiment of fire: millions of electric volts were coursing through my every fiber of being—particularly the biceps that I overworked.

As my whole body uncontrollably trembled with every little movement, I moved my arms to the side, and my body made a sort of T-pose. I wasn't trying to assert dominance or anything. I was just trying to stretch out my back and my arms.

I then took a seat next to the guy who was out cold. I could immediately feel a sense of relief go through my body as my ass relieved itself—glute muscles I mean, not that kind of relief.

Now, what the fuck am I supposed to do? What's up with today of all days? Is it because it is the first day back to school after spring break? Did I suddenly become the protagonist of an anime or television show? What's up with today of all days?—

Well, there's not much of a point in asking these questions when there was no one to answer them.

My eyes shifted to the body beside me. The guy shouldn't be dead yet, but...

Should I kill him?

Should—.

If I leave him as he is and he wakes up, I won't be able to beat him again with the state of my body...

Seriously...

To think my body would be this fragile.

I suppose it does make sense when I've never actually fought anyone before. Even with the amount of content on the internet that teaches you all these fancy moves, most of it was not applicable for training. Other than that rear-naked choke and some other things, it was hard to be 'self-taught' at fighting. I still remember those days when I spent hours on end: practicing various chokeholds with my pillow. Doing it to an actual human that carried actual weight was an entirely different feeling...

Now that I think of it, this guy could have gotten me if he didn't say anything... Wait a minute—why was I unable to hear the guy's shoes clicking on the concrete ground as he sneaked up behind me? And why did he say, "Hey," before attacking me? It didn't add up. Why was I all of a sudden being attacked by some random stranger? I can't think of any sketchy person I have been in contact with—oh wait, wasn't there that private detective guy this morning? What was his name again? But seriously, this is the only event that could possibly be related...

Unless some completely nonsensical organization was trying to kidnap me? What am I even imagining? Well, there's really no way of knowing. There's also something up with the streets void of people—and cars—and everything. What in the fucking fuck of the fuck is going on here? What sort of superpower is this? Was this some alternate dimension? Perhaps the time is frozen?—no, then people would still be around. But, if people are no longer here, why am I and this...

I looked back at the blonde-haired guy who tried to attack me.

It didn't add up. The same feeling from my encounter with that private investigator was welling up inside me.

Something was off. There was something very peculiar about this situation.

Why did this 'fucker' try to grab my head when he could have just sneak-attacked me with a fatal punch? Why did he warn me by saying, "Hey?" Why am I daydreaming so much?—wait no, that's normal for me.

It didn't make any—.

*Plep

"Huh?" A sound I would never normally make escaped my mouth. Now that I've noticed it, my jaw was hanging, and I was gasping hard for air. How did I not notice this before? I guess I got really caught up with the situation—it sure was exhilarating...

Something's wrong. I can feel it. I don't know how, but my mind was telling me that there was something—.

There was a fucking needle poking out of my tricep. The short-sleeved school uniform had been penetrated through by a thick ass fucking needle. HOW IN THE FUCK? How in the fuck did I miss that?—

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the palm of a hand.

My body shifted away in response to what I saw in my peripheral vision. But I was still sitting on the ground, and my legs had long given out ever since my shins got drop-kicked with the heels of this 'fucker's' shoes.

The hand came at my face as if wanting to scoop out my eyes. The other time, I could avoid it. It was only a grabbing motion that wanted to crush my face, but... But this time...

It was coming straight at me like a facehugger from that old Alien movie. Unavoidable.

I can't avoid it...