Darkness...
The taste of iron was still fresh in his mouth, the smell of blood hung heavy in the air. His body, trembling from an inexplicable cold, lay in an apparently endlessly dark void. The cold, rough ground pressed against his cheek as he tried to remember the last events.
- "Argh!"
He screamed in agony. His fingers moved aimlessly and groped for something solid as all the memories came rushing back at once. As if someone had poured too much water into a glass, too much information flooded into his head all at once and practically swamped his brain. His body had no choice but to shut down. His head was ringing, filled with images he still had to piece together.
- It felt like a dream...
Tick... tick... tick... tick.
The sound of a clock ticking on and on.
And finally...
Bing-bang-bong. Bing-bang-bong.
The bell ringing to announce the end of the school day.
- "I don't know why they make the school day so long. It's totally unnecessary."
He tapped his fingers on the desk and watched the seconds pass by painfully slowly.
- "Have a great weekend. And don't forget to finish the assignment!"
- "Bitch-ass school. I was actually planning to chill this weekend."
Sighing, he shoved his notebooks into his bag, stood up, and pushed through the door into the hallway.
He stepped out into the corridor. A loud jumble of voices hit him. Students, teachers, the rhythm of shoes moving up and down - everything blended into one single roar. The air was stuffy, like at one giant party, filled with laughter, shouts, and the clattering of school bags.
He started walking slowly, hands in his pockets, while the crowd moved in every direction. The hallway seemed endless - doors on the left and right, posters for school events. Sometimes it felt to him like the school was bigger than it should have been.
He paused briefly in front of one of the classrooms. A girl stood there, pressed back against the wall. Two boys were laughing, one of them leaning a little too close to her. Her eyes darted nervously back and forth, but none of the people passing by seemed to look.
- I glanced over... then looked away. Maybe I should have said something. But my legs carried me on.
A few meters farther on, another boy was sitting on the floor, right against the wall, his knees drawn up. Headphones in his ears, completely lost in whatever was playing on his phone. The world around him didn't exist. Even when someone bumped into him, he only shifted slightly to the side.
- I rushed up the stairs, the bag hanging neither too tight nor too loose from my shoulder.
The clock ticked more and more loudly.
- "Shit, I can't get through these ridiculously narrow hallways."
The school bell had already rung five minutes ago, and yet the students were moving like they didn't also have a train to catch. Many were chatting, some were still calmly eating the leftovers from their lunch break, and the teachers were hurrying to their cars as if another day in hell was over - a hell of endless boredom. The air was thick with perfume, sweat, and that weird, but nostalgic smell of chalk.
- "Dammit..."
- I quickened my pace and slipped past the people. The urge to get home as fast as possible was growing rapidly.
The hallway got wider, the voices louder. Students began crowding into one another. Teachers half-heartedly tried to keep order, even though their minds were probably already somewhere else.
He made his way through the crush, step by step, eyes fixed ahead.
Finally, he reached the large glass door at the end of the corridor. Bright light shimmered through the pane.
He pushed the handle down.
The moment the door swung open, the light hit him. It was warm, bright, almost blinding. He blinked, trying to recover from the suddenly intense rays of the sun. His pupils shrank as they began to adjust to the difference in brightness.
- "Haa..." I exhaled and said: "How beautiful!"
It was late spring, and life was at the peak of its bloom. That showed in the flowers springing from the ground, in the animals becoming more active, but also, on some subconscious level, in how much lighter you felt. That lightness could have made even the most wounded soul forget it had ever been hurt.
- Then I saw them. My friends. Antony and Tyron.
Antony was crouched on the stair railing, legs dangling, his hair sticking out in every direction. The sun caught in his wild strands, as if someone had scattered sparks through them.
Tyron stood beside him, hands deep in his pockets, his expression as always: grumpy, annoyed - a classic "Resting Bitch Face."
- "Finally!" Antony shouted as if he'd been waiting forever. "You tried to outplay time again and lost, didn't you?"
- "Very funny." I panted as I finally reached their level. "I swear, this has to be ragebait."
- "Sure." Tyron and Antony said it in sync.
- Antony jumped down and slapped my shoulder way too hard. I almost stumbled.
- Tyron: "Let's go, Sammy! We've got plans. Big plans!"
- "Big plans...?" I raised an eyebrow. "I hope nothing illegal again."
We made our way through the still-crowded schoolyard. The murmur of voices, the soft rhythm of shoes, doors being locked - all of it blended into a huge, lively roar.
- I took a deep breath, felt the stuffy air, saw the colorful posters on the walls announcing school events. Still too much going on.
- "Latin is sooo dead." Antony began as we reached the gate outside.
- Antony: "I swear, who would ever need Latin?"
- I shook my head.
- Samuel: "You're dramatizing again. Who cares?"
Tyron rolled his eyes.
- Tyron: "You're just bad."
The fresh spring air hit us. The sun warmed the top of my head, a cool breeze came from the nearby alley. Birds chirped, cars hummed over the cobblestones, and everything immediately felt freer than before.
The city waited.
We strolled toward the train stop. Cobblestones under our feet, half-timbered houses to the left and right.
The area where our school was located was a good area. But for someone who also wanted a bit of adventure, it felt boring and monotonous.
- Tyron: "So, food first, right?"
Tyron pointed to a photo of a restaurant that he had apparently taken on the way to school before class started.
- Samuel: "Sure, why not. I'm hungry."
- "Why not." Antony said it casually.
We got on the train.
The metallic screech of the doors, the clatter over the tracks, the murmur of voices, and the rattling of bags - all of it became a rhythmic background noise.
Antony immediately started talking about school. About bizarre teachers we didn't even have to properly explain, and about the misery of homework nobody understood.
Tyron chimed in, mostly just to contradict Antony. Sometimes with a short, sarcastic comment, sometimes just with an eye-roll.
- I listened, grinned, and chimed in occasionally.
The train rolled through the city. Old houses, narrow alleyways, small shops whose windows reflected the sunlight. Streets full of people hurrying, chatting, and laughing.
- I watched them out of the corner of my eye, felt the rhythm of the city, and could feel the cobblestones under my feet even though we were sitting.
The sounds mixed with our conversations, and somehow everything fit together perfectly - chaos, friendship, a little madness.
The train screeched to a stop at the station, and we squeezed our way out. The doors slammed shut behind us.
In front of us, the city stretched out like a living puzzle of cobblestones, half-timbered houses, and little shops whose signs sparkled in the sunlight.
A mix of scents - freshly baked bread, roasted meat, and a trace of exhaust - hung in the air.
Everything seemed old and modern at the same time, like a place that could never decide whether it wanted to be the past or the present.
- "Food." Tyron said firmly. "I'm hungry, we're going to eat."
He reached forward as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Shoulders loose but determined, eyes half-closed, as if he were approving every decision in the world.
- Samuel: "Food sounds good."
- Antony then started up again with: "I swear, Latin is like torture."
Antony stretched theatrically.
- Antony: "I can't read a single sentence without my brain turning to smoke."
- Tyron: "Are you just following the words, or do you actually understand anything?" Tyron said it mockingly.
- Antony: "Understand? Ha!"
Antony laughed.
- Antony: "I survive by guessing words based on vibes."
I had to laugh.
- "You're seriously hopeless. But hey, at least you're trying."
We walked down the main street. Cobblestones, little boutiques, street cafés, musicians here and there in the squares, and people strolling through the city in groups. Light broke in the windows, the old houses cast long shadows, and I felt that mix of peace and slight madness that only a city like this could create. We kept wandering. Watching the people, listening to the sounds of the city, the laughter of children, the ringing of bicycles, and people talking in the streets.
- I noticed myself absorbing every little detail - the sun, the old houses, the sounds, the smells - as if I were preparing myself.
- For what?
- I didn't know. But somehow I had a feeling we would experience even more that day than we could imagine right now.
We kept walking down the main street. The sun shone through the gaps between the old houses, cast light on the cobblestones, and made the facades glow in warm yellow and red tones. Somewhere behind us, a tram rattled along, and somewhere farther ahead, musicians were playing on a small bridge. Their melody was carried by a light breeze.
- Tyron: "Yo, Samuel, look!"
Tyron pointed at a shop that offered all kinds of materials for his art projects. Antony wanted to go in too, so we took a quick look.
When we came back out, I realized that a lot more time had passed than I had thought.
The sky was now glowing bluish-purple and was repeatedly covered by scattered clouds.
The little alleys on the right and left smelled like freshly baked bread - most likely from the many restaurants on the main street - and damp stone that had stored the warmth of the sun.
- I noticed how the city was both old and alive at the same time. How the houses and the people whispered stories we couldn't hear as we walked through.
- "So, Samuel." Antony nudged me lightly. "How hard was chemistry today? Was the teacher looking all weird again?"
I sighed and shook my head.
- "Yeah, you could say that."
- "But he also has something kind of likable about him."
- Tyron: "I don't get how anyone can choose chemistry."
Tyron said it flatly.
- Antony: "Wise words, Tyron."
Antony started laughing.
We passed a small bridge. Below us, the water shimmered like liquid silver. The streets were full of people. Some were hurrying, others were strolling. Some stopped at cafés whose outdoor tables were packed with steaming coffee and cake.
- I took a deep breath.
The city felt familiar and exciting at the same time.
- "I could walk here forever."
I murmured it quietly.
- "Just the three of us and the city..."
Antony grinned broadly.
- Antony: "Sounds like an epic adventure!"
Tyron let out a short laugh.
- Tyron: "You can't really call it an adventure."
We all laughed.
- I couldn't help it. As crazy as we were, it was the only thing that really mattered. I could feel that these moments - even if they seemed trivial - were precious. I would remember them forever.
Every gesture, every laugh, every tease.
We kept walking down the main street. Small stores, cafés, bookstores. Old houses with colorful signs. Everything felt like a mix of yesterday and today.
- I noticed the little details:
A girl playing with a dog. The dog jumping into the water of a fountain.
An old man reading a newspaper.
Children running up the steps of a church.
Everything seemed normal - and yet it was full of life.
- Antony: "Hey, Samuel."
Antony looked at me.
- Antony: "You know what's the best thing about strolling through the city?"
- Samuel: "What?"
- Antony: "That we don't have to do anything except enjoy the chaos."
- I grinned to myself. Yeah. That was it. Crazy, loud, alive - and exactly what made our friendship what it was.
Tyron dragged us purposefully into a small restaurant. The signs outside were old and faded, but from the windows came the smell of grilled meat and fresh bread spilling into the street.
The inside was rustic. Wooden chairs, rough tables. A few faded pictures of vineyards hung on the walls, somehow out of place - and that was exactly why they fit.
- Tyron: "Sit down. What do you want to order?"
- Samuel: "The usual."
I muttered it and dropped into a chair.
Antony clapped Tyron on the shoulder and said: "I'll just have a snack."
- I made a face.
- Samuel: "Is just a snack enough for you?"
We ordered, and as soon as that was done, Antony started exploring the place.
- Antony: "Look at the lamp!"
- He pointed upward: "I swear, the lamp is watching us. It kind of looks like an eye. Weird..."
- "It really does." I muttered, trying to stay serious.
- Tyron looked up briefly: "Maybe it really is watching us."
The food came. Steaming, aromatic. Tyron dug in mercilessly. Antony began enjoying his snack slowly, almost reverently, as if every bite had its own meaning.
- At first, I held back and watched my friends - and the little chaos they caused.
While we ate, we ended up talking about video games.
- "I think the new update is just pay to win." Antony said dramatically.
- "If you just can't play well..." I replied dryly.
Tyron nodded in agreement and chuckled briefly.
- I watched them laugh, eat, and mess around. How they were just themselves - crazy, loud, over the top. A little dangerous in their own way.
- And I thought about how rare it was to have people who really knew you.
- I could relax.
- I didn't have to pretend.
After we finished eating, we stepped back out onto the street. By then the sun had sunk lower. The light was warm, orange-gold. The shadows of the old houses grew longer, and the alleyways looked even more winding, even more full of secrets. We walked down the main street again. Past small shops, street musicians, and cafés whose outdoor tables were full of people enjoying the afternoon. Antony hopped on every curb, ran a quick lap around a fountain once. Tyron only shook his head and kept walking.
- I followed them, laughing to myself.
Everything felt so simple. So normal.
And yet I knew that every moment, every little thing, would later become a memory I wouldn't forget.
"So, what now?" I asked as we strolled through the busy street.
- "It's getting pretty late."
I hesitated for a moment.
- "I should probably head off soon."
- "Me too." Tyron joined in.
Antony stopped and folded his arms behind his head.
- "Alright."
He grinned and then said: "Then see you tomorrow. For another day in this cycle."
So, at the end of the day, we went our separate ways.
I watched them for a moment longer as they disappeared in different directions until they were swallowed by the crowd. Then I turned around and made my way home. The city had grown quieter. The sounds more muted. The colors softer.
A completely normal day.
And yet it felt like I had to memorize every detail. As if it mattered...
- After that, I was on my way to...
Suddenly it got blindingly bright in front of my eyes. As if I were looking straight into a flash of lightning. It felt wrong. Bad. I've never had such a bad feeling before.
- I felt sick.
- "Bwueeh..."
There was a ringing in my head.
It didn't stop.
It got worse. And worse.
I couldn't take it anymore.
My vision still hadn't come back, but I kept slamming my head against what I thought was the ground. With one hand, I kept scratching at my forehead until I felt something warm and thick running down my face. The sounds got louder. More chaotic. The smell of iron and dust suddenly became stronger.
- "What did I do to deserve this? What...? Why is this happening to me?! What did I do wrong?!"
The dull, rhythmic pounding didn't stop.
- I was just...
- Where was I?
With my other hand, I started scraping at the ground until my fingers were bleeding. My vision kept switching between blinding light and darkness, interrupted briefly by flashing stars.
"Crack!"
I assumed that sound came from my now numb nose. Then everything suddenly went quiet. And my vision went completely black again.