บท 11: Chapter 11: The Ruler remember his life
Being undead, sleep was useless to me. I laid on my bed thinking about how my past life was. How I was a loser back then and considered trash because life was unfair.
Ah..perhaps I was indeed trash back then.
My memory flashed before me when I thought I would die after I was hit by a truck when I was looking for a job.
I didn't feel any pain when the cold metal of the truck's bumper knocked me across the cold asphalt that morning. My consciousness blurred, and I flew across the pavement like a rag doll. I couldn't feel anything. My brain wanted to scream, but soon my body no longer responded to me. Instead, all I could do was lay there and watch the papers from my ruptured briefcase rain down from the starry sky.
Next to me, the truck blinked its hazard lights, hypnotizing me to sleep.
"Oi, young man, please help me lift him! Anyone please call an ambulance!"
Words from strangers echoed inside my head, while I felt at peace. After failing at everything, from endless job interviews and no money to live, was it okay to not be okay?
My life, I recalled how it changed that day.
I sat in front of a row of recruiters, all staring at me from that long table. I didn't move from my seat, nor fidget with my hands. I just sat there, listening to their reasoning for rejection from an objective standpoint. I observed them flicking their pens to the list of names they had gone through.
Luckily, I was the last one on that list. After hearing their words I quietly stood up and packed my briefcase.
After hearing the ding of the elevator, the doors slid shut and I reclined my back against the wall. The tie and collar began to constrict my neck, so I fixed my tie over and over again. The cold sweat soaked my dress shirt, and I couldn't wait to take my suit off. However, I dreaded the thought of returning home.
In the lobby, my footsteps echoed throughout the airy space. The clerk, clearly eager to head home already, anxiously stared at me sauntering over to the sliding door. I didn't blame them. They must've had a family to come home to, or perhaps they wanted to destress.
Crickets greeted me enthusiastically in the night, perhaps the bugs trying to cheer me up. At least I wanted to imagine. The cold air stung my eyes and ears, while I hurried to the last train, the station void of any people. That loneliness comforted me, even just a little, for I knew the most I didn't wish to return home. The police box in the corner closed its lights, and the officer greeted me as the last train slowly came from the evening rails.
Upon entering the train, I sighed that home was at least a bit far. I spent all my time pondering, staring at my reflection in the window. How that face of mine once teeming with life and youth, became reduced to eyebags and dead eyes. I cursed my youth and innocence with a scowl.
The train hissed to a stop and announced its destination. A lowly block that I'd always known. And so I began to walk. Past the highways and sidewalks I always counted the number of buildings. It helped me distract myself from when I'd arrive at home.
Once I walked past that convenience store, I crossed a bridge. Suicide Bridge, quite an ominous name. Thirty-six people jumped from this bridge, a ten-meter drop to the road down below and it'll be an instant death.
Sometimes I wondered who would be the thirty-seventh. But in fear of insulting those that actually made the jump, I chose not to do anything. After doing my three-minute vigil for those that died I continued on my way.
I checked my phone for the first time since this morning. My mother's texts bombarded the screen. As I browsed my phone, my home screen was void of anything other than the essential apps of RAIN and other utilities. The video games I once came to enjoy I deleted a long time ago.
"Achilles."
I whirled around at the faint sound of my name. Were my ears deceiving me? I was aware that those voices… from the house haunted me. I never thought they extended to my solemn commute.
However this voice differed from my mother's, nor a casual call from my father.
Eventually I found myself standing in front of a peaceful apartment complex, with a few lights still on. I watched the moths entranced with the nearest streetlamp and noted the lively sounds from the lush bushes. The earthy smell prompted me to sneeze, at which point I decided to detour. I just wanted to delay the time before I actually went up that staircase.
Light traffic unusually crowded the street next to my apartment. I minded the rumble of their engines whirring past me. The traffic reminded me of that rite of passage I heard of in America. Over there, once a kid knew how to drive, they were already on the road to becoming an adult. Pun not intended.
The rules of society put a constraint on our individuality and made us wear a suit and tie. I was no different, except that I considered myself lower than the average salaryman. After all, I never even got the job in the first place.
I counted sixty seconds and instinctively entered the crosswalk. But it appeared I had made a miscalculation.
"Achilles, you shall be given a second chance."
The pain jolted me awake as if I woke up from a nightmare. Except that I didn't. The white hospital bed embraced me tightly, and my body ached to even move. The stench of sanitizer intruded my nose, and the lights dimly brightened the room. I understood from the mere silence of the room that…
My mother and brother never came, nor bothered to ask about my condition. I still couldn't process the fact that I had been hit by a truck and survived. I knew that the longer I stayed here, the more my mother would be mad at me. I calmly repeated in my head, everything would be okay. Such mental gymnastics, I was hit by a truck and everything was going to be okay? Yes, it would. Everything would be okay. I held onto that belief like it was my core philosophy.
Apparently I'd been here for a few days already according to the hospital staff. That it was nothing short of a miracle how I went unscathed with minor injuries. Just a swollen leg and a sprain. Not even a cast was needed, but still my busted leg made me wince. And so I requested to be discharged from the hospital.
Somehow, someone already paid sixty-thousand yen for my three-night stay.
The brisk morning was marked by the sun, as the light warmed my body. Using a single crutch I hobbled my way back. I needed to go back home since I couldn't go anywhere in my current condition. In the back of my mind I prepared myself for what awaited me there. Once I reached the apartment complex, I went up the staircase and stood in front of the door. I spent a couple of minutes fishing for my keys before I managed to unlock the door.
I said the usual, "I'm home."
No one acknowledged my existence. They must be busy, I concluded. I stepped into the foyer and took off my shoes.
"Achi, what are you doing?"
My lips quivered at the voice my ears dreaded. I glanced up to see my mother watching me from the kitchen. I had to say something.
"Mom, I—"
"Well? What happened to your job interview?"
"I… didn't get the job." I yanked the cold, hard truth from my mouth. And that was enough for her. She didn't care about me at all.
"Again? You're almost twenty-two, Achi! Do you realize how much money your father and I paid for your university? Yet you remain unemployed?!"
I saw her face tense up as she slammed her hand on the table. Honestly, I knew better to look down at her feet, than to look at her face. I agreed wholeheartedly with what she yelled at me. It was my fault. My parents paid for my tuition, but I had yet to get a job.
She arched her neck and saw my limp. "It better not be because you've been staying in your room, playing video games—oh? Or were you injured because you were playing those stupid games while crossing the street?"
I wanted to scream, to lash out, to make her understand. But instead I just hung my head and limped past her in silence. I knew I couldn't simply make people 'understand', and such actions often never made people 'understand'. I went down the tiny hall on the right and busted open the door.
My desk only had a few papers scattered around. My briefcase contained my name and address, so I knew it would be returned in a few days. Those things that my mother blamed, I already sold my laptop and any games along with it since graduating from university. Those figures I once kept as a symbol of my youth, I sold them to help pay for the apartment's rent.
I threw my crutch to the floor and sat on the bed.
A hand covered my mouth. That feeling of anxiousness welled up from my stomach and lit my throat on fire. I kept telling myself everything would be okay. My father's voice echoed inside my head to remind me of that same line I'd learned to tell myself. Soon after I felt like the walls would come tumbling down, that anxiety flushed away.
Something was off. I glanced around my room and stared at the emptiness that promised me hope.
I slowly stood up, wincing from my screaming leg and hobbled to the door. I leaned against it with my weight and was about to turn the doorknob.
My phone lit up, indicating I received a message or an email. I dragged my left back to the table and read the message.
"Hi, we received your resumê and we would like to invite you for an interview…"
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