Solanine

I woke up in an empty classroom. I couldn’t help but notice how flat-out white the windows were. It was eerily quiet. Winds, coming from nowhere, swept through the curtain.

Welcomed by the stench smell of my drool when I was asleep. I wiped it off with my hands that felt like ice, contrary to the warm scene of this classroom.

My body couldn’t move properly, I felt so tired, and I forgot why. 

I noticed that I didn't have my bag with me. What am I doing here in the first place?

This is probably another useless chapter of my life. But hey, maybe in the future this would mean something for me. 

Although I doubt that. What would a random scene of me being present in an apparently desolate classroom serve any purpose?

Idiot thinks he's in a novel and is doing some sort of foreshadowing smh.

Not knowing what to take from this, I just lay my head down to take a nap. Just to replenish the energy that I lost earlier...

"How was your day?" asked someone from behind me.

I looked behind. I couldn’t see at first because of the brightness of the room. I saw her again. That familiar figure.

She stood before me, with her storm-colored strands, cropped close to her thoughts, flowing like a distorted oscillation, although less of a slinky. 

I can't help but stare. Her eyes encapsulate the earth, a soil that nourished the whole scene. Peering into my monologues. Surrounded by her lush eyelashes, a fluttering frame that accentuates her eyes.

"Hello? Have you finally lost it?" She smirked, aloof as ever.

Honestly, I’d forgotten who she was, or when she was. But this was the second time she’d asked me that. I don't really want to respond, considering how dry my mouth is.

"I thought I already told you? I’d managed to complete my life’s work. An answer to the world and me." I sneered. 

God, I sound like a smartass Dr Frankenstein kid.

The figure smiled. "But you hadn’t told me the answer for yourself first."

Reminding me of my failures again. Basically, I worked my ass out for a message that basically rejects the idea of working on it in the first place.

"It just bluntly told me to stop." 

She tilted her head. "Maybe you’d forgotten that something as simple as it could be is the key to your life." She stepped closer and grabbed my hand. "Let me show you something!"

Having no choice, I followed her suit. Her hands let go, and she ran faster than I could ever imagine. 

She stopped before a door. "Now I want my answer," she said as she went inside the dark room.

The room was completely dark, a stark contrast to the brightness that had been there before. I walked forward, unsure where it would lead, until I reached a cluster of curtains. I walked through them. Where is she even leading me into?

I found myself standing on the stage of an auditorium. There were people, but I couldn’t see their faces. The spotlight directly shone down into my eyes. The dryness was something out of an AC’d room, but I realised I had been sweating a lot.

I was apparently wearing a suit, and I clutched for a napkin and wiped myself. 

When did I wear this?

The figure, now in front of me, was dressed like a host of a TV show. "Do you still remember me? Do you recognize me?" Her voice was trembling, as if she was going to start crying.

I hesitated; the crowd was staring at me. I couldn’t answer properly, even though I knew the answer; I’d always had the worst stage fright after all. "Yes, I do remember you. Anyways, what's happening exactly?"

The figure looked skeptical. "Are you sure?" I thought I just answered her.

"Yes!" I yelled out loud. The audience started clapping and cheering. I looked at them and looked back, but the figure had now disappeared.

I looked around, but I couldn’t see the figure. "Where did you go?" I think I'm in a prank show or something. Are those even still trendy nowadays?

The audience all laughed louder. "Where did who go? You seem to lack insight into everything other than your eccentric goals."

What? I'm so fatigued, I should just go back. She'd better have answers for these shenanigans she's pulling.

I ran back inside the curtain, and I found a mysterious figure under a spotlight. "Umm, Sir, do you know where I am?"

I couldn’t make out the figure’s face, but I could tell they were smiling. "Do you still remember her name? The girl from earlier?" asked the mysterious figure.

"Her name was ᐃᓈ," I replied. "But who are you exactly?"

He smirked. "Now for one million dollars. Which one is ᐃᓈ? You can have an infinite number of guesses. But if you fail, you get brutally mutilated!" he gleefully stated, completely ignoring my question.

Ignoring the latter, why am I in a game show again? Maybe it's a sign to reconsider my past decisions. I'm probably just having a weirdass dream.

Three silhouettes appeared before me. "Now, which one is ᐃᓈ? You can guess or call a friend if you want!"

As someone who has read Sun Tzu's Art of War (The Summary), Espionage, or dare I say, information, is key to victory! So I will call a friend.

"Uh oh, can’t call a friend if everyone is dead, can you?" Ehh?

Having no choice, I pointed to A arbitrarily. A spotlight shone down on her. The same figure again, smiling. A buzzer shrieked through the air. “Incorrect!” the host bellowed. I felt like I was in a kidnapper’s psychedelic game show.

I answered B. I guessed I could just answer everything since I had an infinite number of guesses.

The same figure appeared on option B. The buzzer played again. "Incorrect! But hey, fourth time’s the charm!" I'm definitely dreaming then. Should've known that, considering how weird it had already been since the start.

I answered C. What did he mean by "fourth time" when there were only three people here? I suppose I shouldn't be puzzled, considering there are two of her here. 

Why am I even questioning anything in the first place? I should just go with the flow. Been a while since I had a lucid dream, though.

The buzzer played again, and the spotlight turned red. The audience laughed loudly. I looked around, and the audience was all the same figure. Umm, what the hell?!

My head was all over the place. My body was already fatigued from the start, and now this? 

Their laughs filled my ears. My clothes, now a tuxedo, were drenched in sweat. I fell to my knees. I felt claustrophobic from the noise.

God, I feel so fucking agitated. Is this what TooSad saw? RIP of course, but still, it feels like the weight of my sins has finally caught up to me. I won't fail No Nut November this time! Or something.

I know I'm dreaming, but why does my feeling feel so real? Why do I feel like I'm actually exposing the world to the tears I so wanted to shed?

I desperately wanted to know what was going on. I tried to think about what had happened before I slept, whether I had been drugged or something. But that is illegal from where I'm from!

My head is fogged; I seriously don't know what happened before this. Think! Marc Think! (Shouldn't be referencing an old ass meme in my momento mori)

I then remembered something. Suddenly, my chest felt like it couldn't handle gravity. My emotions took over.

I looked up, then saw the same figure in front of me, staring coldly. My eyes were tearing up, and I couldn’t think properly.

"Still coping in your inner monologues through self-deprecation, huh?" 

My inner monologues do make my emotions feel phony, but then again, I've already come to realize that even if I'm aware of what I feel, I can't really control it, nor do I know how to fix it.

But now I remember. What am I doing to myself? Am I really going this low just because I can't handle reality? It's the real her, the one I claim to have accepted, yet have denied her own volitions.

"I remember now, are you my ᐃᓈ? The one I know!?" I yelled, accidentally biting my tongue. The figure stared.

Her cold stare, accompanied by the roaring bass that is my heart. The metallic taste of my blood, I can't help but feel hopeless, as if I've come to face my regrets on my deathbed.

"Are you the version of ᐃᓈ that I know? Please answer me, why are you just standing there? What's even happening?!" The clapping stopped. The silence filled the room, followed by the sounds of air conditioners, completely making everything white-noised.

"What version?" she asked. "The digital one? The one that sought you?" Her voice was flat, but her eyes were sharp.

I thought I already explained to her. "Haven’t you remembered what I told you? That-"

"Do you really think that there’s a population of me out there? That I’m disposable?!" Her voice was amplified by the deafening silence of the room.

"Look, I’m me, I’m not a copy, nor am I the me that was abandoned by time each passing second. They no longer exist, and that means they shouldn’t even be brought up!" she cried out to me as her tears started running down her cheeks.

Her eyes widened, trembling with both fury and sadness. She wasn’t anyone else. She was herself. I should've known that, years ago, I wasted my life and dragged her with me, just because.

I walked up to her. "I’m… I am…" I stopped her and hugged her. I closed my eyes as we both cried.

"But then again, even right now, there are two versions of me, simultaneously." I opened my eyes, and I was now in a cinema. She stood before the big screen with her face in it as well.

I tried to answer, but couldn’t. Then, the snow randomly started to cascade onto me. I saw her standing in front of me in a strong snowstorm. My tears and sweat from earlier started freezing up. I couldn’t move anymore.

"It feels like you’re just redoing everything… Rather than accepting how things are supposed to be," she said, teary-eyed. "Even yourself, you've forgotten who you are. And you don't even know it." 

"Why do you think that?" I whispered, unable to even form the rest of my question out loud. Like all of my questions about myself, desolated.

She didn't answer. She just stared. Fading away, consumed by a tint of cyan.