Capítulo 4: Time to take First step..
Disclaimer:
***This novel is a work of pure fantasy. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real places and events, is purely coincidental or fictional. The characters, settings, and information presented are largely the product of the author's imagination. If any content in this work causes concern or discomfort, please feel free to reach out to me directly.***
After dinner, we all retreat to our separate corners of the apartment. Abhi comes into my room, holding his book for the next exam with a furrowed brow.
"You need help with that?" I ask, closing my own book.
He nods, looking up at me with hopeful eyes. "Please, Jain."
"Of course," I say, patting the bed. "Come sit."
As Abhi snuggles into the bed, I take the book from his hands. The weight of the book feels familiar, a reminder of the countless nights I've spent studying under the dim light of the lamp.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.
"Yeah," I reply with a smile. "I'm just feeling a bit... different today."
He nods solemnly, his gaze dropping to his book. "It's because of Father," he says, his voice low.
My heart clenches at the mention of our father. Our family's been through so much since his passing. "We'll get through it," I tell him, trying to sound more confident than I feel.
"And about Father," he continues, "I think it's best if we move out soon."
I look up, surprised. "Why?"
"The rent," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "We can't keep living here without him."
"Don't worry," I reassure him. "I'll figure something out."
"But how?" His eyes are wide with innocence and doubt. "You're not even allowed to work."
"I'll start a business," I reply, my voice filled with determination. "After exams, we'll find a way."
Abhi's face lights up, his eyes shining with excitement. "Can I help?"
"Of course," I say, ruffling his hair. "We're in this together."
He smiles, his worries momentarily forgotten. "Okay," he says, picking up his book. "Let's study."
I watch as he dives back into his book, feeling a mix of pride and responsibility.
I remember back when Abhi was just a kid, trying to act all tough and mature, even though he was the youngest. He was always the one to comfort me when I was down, even when he didn't understand what was happening. And now, looking at him, I realize how much he's grown.
He's the one supporting us, doing all the labor work while I was off studying. And here I am, feeling like I've failed him somehow. It's strange to see him in such a different light, but it's also incredibly humbling.
As we sit in the quiet of the room, the only sounds being the turning of pages and the occasional cough from outside, I can't help but feel a deep sense of love for him. He's been my rock through it all, and I owe him everything.
But as the night wears on and his eyes grow heavier, I know it's time for him to rest. "Come on," I say gently, taking the book from his hands. "You need to sleep."
He looks up at me with those same hopeful eyes. "But I want to keep studying," he murmurs.
"You've studied enough," I tell him, tucking him into bed. "Let your mind rest."
"But what about you?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I'll keep going," I say with a smile. "You just sleep, and I'll be here when you wake up."
He nods, his eyes finally closing. "You are acting weird, bro, But Thank you" he mumbles, his grip on my hand tightening.
"No, thank you," I whisper back. "Thank you for being the best little brother I could've asked for."
I watch him sleep for a few moments, feeling the weight of the world lift from my shoulders. With 'L' by my side and the love of my family, I know we'll find a way to make ends meet. And as I sit back down to study, the future seems just a little less daunting.
"Let's see," I murmur to myself, taking a notebook and pen from the drawer. "It's 2012, and I need to come up with a way to support us."
I tap the pen against the page, lost in thought. "L," I call out, breaking the silence. "How can I use my memories from the future to make money here?"
The glowing status window flickers to life, the soft voice of Cuyle's spirit echoing in my mind. "There are many ways, Master," she says. "But remember, the future is not set in stone. Use your knowledge wisely."
I nod, jotting down some ideas. "How about investments?" I ask. "Could I use my knowledge of stocks and companies to make some quick cash?"
"That is one possibility," she replies. "But it requires careful planning and discretion. You must not alter the natural course of events too drastically."
I scribble down notes, the wheels in my head turning. "What about inventions?" I muse. "Could I create something new?"
"Innovation is another path," she says. "But ensure it does not disrupt the balance of this world."
The room is filled with the soft scratching of my pen against the page as I brainstorm.
"L," I say, my mind racing with ideas and concerns. "No matter what I do, the future is going to change. But right now, we need money. Can you tell me something simple that even a 14-year-old version of me can do to earn some?"
The status window flickers again, and I wait for her response.
"Consider your talents and hobbies," she suggests. "Perhaps you could offer tutoring services to your classmates, or start a small online business selling handmade goods or your art."
"But how will that be enough?" I ask, feeling the pressure build.
"Master, it's about making an impact in small ways," she reminds me. "Start with what you're good at and what brings you joy. The rest will fall into place."
Her words resonate with me, and I nod to myself. Maybe it's not about changing the world overnight. Maybe it's about making small, meaningful steps towards a better future for us.
"L, I've got it," I say, my voice filled with excitement. "I'll write a thesis that wasn't solved in 2012, but I'll solve it in the future."
The status window remains silent for a moment before responding. "That is a fascinating idea," she says. "But remember, Be mindful of the implications your work could have."
"Don't worry," I reply with a grin. "I'll start small. Maybe something about renewable energy, or a way to make our city cleaner."
The room seems to lighten at the thought, and I can feel the beginnings of a plan forming in my mind. "Thanks, L," I say, feeling a surge of gratitude for her guidance. "Let's make this work."
The status window glows with approval. "You are on the right track, Master. Your heart is in the right place."
With renewed energy, I grab my books and start my research. The future may be uncertain, but with the wisdom of the past and the support of my family, I know we'll find a way to thrive.
"L, any stocks that had a significant increase in value in 2013?"
The status window blinks into existence, and I wait anxiously for her response. "Master, while I can provide you with that information, remember the potential consequences of using knowledge from the future to manipulate the past."
"I know," I say quickly, eager to get her advice. "But just out of curiosity, which stocks performed well that year?"
"In 2013, certain technology and renewable energy companies experienced rapid growth,"
"I understand," I reply solemnly, scribbling down notes. "I'll just keep it in mind for the future."
"Wise decision," she responds, the tension in the room easing.
"L," I ask, feeling a mix of excitement and hesitation. "Could I start a social media account and share my knowledge about tech and science from the future?"
The status window pulses for a moment, as if considering my proposal. "You can certainly attempt it," she says finally. "But keep in mind, the platform may not be as widely known or used as it is in your time. Plus, the content creators are fewer."
"That's fine," I reply, feeling a spark of an idea. "I'll start small, share some basic tips and tricks. Nothing too advanced."
"Just be cautious, Master," she warns. "Your age may raise questions and skepticism."
"I'll figure it out," I say with determination. "This could be a way to help people and make a difference, even if it's just a small one."
The status window nods, a silent acknowledgment of my resolve.
With that in mind, I set up an account under a pseudonym, ready to share my knowledge while keeping my true identity a secret. The future is a delicate tapestry, and I mustn't pull too hard at its threads.
The final exam day has arrived, and I find myself sitting next to Abhi and Dev in the classroom. The atmosphere is tense, a symphony of nervous whispers and shuffling papers.
As Ratika approaches us, her eyes lock onto Abhi, and I know what she's about to ask. She's had a crush on him for months now, and today seems like the perfect opportunity to seek his help.
"Abhi," I murmur, giving him a knowing look. "Why don't you go help Ratika?"
He looks at me, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "Okay," he says, standing up.
"Jain," Dev says, his voice low. "What college are you aiming for?"
"I'm thinking of going to a university," I reply casually. "But let's focus on the exam first."
"But you can get into any college," Dev insists, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You're so smart."
"Don't worry," I tell him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You'll get into the college you want. We're all going to make it."
He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thanks, Jain."
As Abhi heads off with Ratika, I can't help but feel a swell of pride in my chest. Maybe the future isn't all about grand gestures and huge changes. Maybe it's just about being there for the people we love, making sure they know they're not alone.
The exam comes to an end, and we all breathe a collective sigh of relief. The classroom empties quickly, leaving only a few stragglers to pack up their things.
Abhi and I make our way back to the apartment, his eyes lighting up when he sees me. "Let's go home!" he exclaims, his voice filled with excitement.
As we enter, the scent of dinner fills the air. Mom is in the kitchen, humming to herself as she puts the final touches on the meal.
"Eat your dinner first, Abhi," she calls out without looking.
"Later," he replies, already halfway to the computer, eager to play his favorite game.
I chuckle at his enthusiasm and sit at the dining table, watching as she notices his disheveled appearance.
"Come here, let me change your clothes," she says, her voice filled with love.
"But, Mom, I'm fine," he protests.
"You're always fine," she says, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she smiles. "But let me take care of you."
While she fusses over him, I can't help but feel a profound sense of warmth and belonging. Despite the loss of our father to cancer at such a young age, she's managed to keep our family afloat with nothing but her strength and love.
Mom finishes changing him and brings his plate over to the table. "Eat," she says, her eyes shining. "You need to keep your strength up."
"But I'm not hungry," he argues, his gaze fixed on the screen.
"You'll eat," she insists, placing the food in front of him. "You're growing, and you need to eat."
With a sigh, Abhi sits down and takes a bite. I can see the love and care in every gesture she makes, and I'm reminded of how lucky we are to have her in our lives. Her love is the foundation that holds us together, even when the world seems to be crumbling around us.
The room fills with the sounds of a mother's gentle scolding and a young boy's protests, punctuated by the clinking of silverware.
Now that the exam is over, the first step of the path to change begins tomorrow. I've decided to take things into my own hands and make sure that we can support ourselves without relying on anyone else.
The night stretches out before me, filled with possibilities and plans. I'll use my knowledge to make a difference in our lives, starting small but aiming big. Maybe I'll start a blog or offer tutoring services. There's so much I can do, and I'm eager to see where it takes us.
As the clock ticks closer to midnight, I whisper to myself, "Tomorrow is the first day I start to change." With a sense of purpose, I lay down on my bed, my mind racing with excitement for the future.
Sleep eventually takes over, and I drift off into a realm of dreams filled with potential and hope.
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