"An abyss of pure darkness"

Weightless, I stare in an abyss of pure darkness. In all directions, a cold overwhelming chasm of pitch black surrounds me. I am freezing and burning in every inch of my body. I feel an immense amount of pain and soreness in every muscle and joint, but yet I feel so light and numb. In a second, with just a twitch, I can move several kilometers through this emptiness, but at the same time, I move nowhere at all. I feel an incredible amount of happiness, but the loneliness stirs a dark feeling within. On the surface of my mind, I am exactly where I belong, but deep down, I know I am in a place I should never have been allowed to visit. This is the subconscious of none other than the boy known as Iroh Linag. I hope that I can navigate this unknown. What feels like years go by, yet it also feels as though not even a second has passed. I've travelled the entire abyss a dozen times over, yet have stayed in the same spot that I started in. These contradictions, these true paradoxes, they begin to eat up my mind. I feel terrified, yet am completely calm. Why am I here? What was I doing? Who am I again?

In the distance, a ray of light peers towards me illuminating the empty liquid in front of my eyes. There is nothing but a motionless liquid. I now understand that the liquid, or rather the abyss I am in, isn't a dark color nor is pitch black. There just has been no color nor light added yet. I attempt to move towards the light, but the distance only grows as I speed up, or rather, I'm not moving at all. It feels as though I'm orbiting the ray of light at a fixed distance, or possibly the ray of light is orbiting around me as I rotate at the exact speed necessary for my perspective to never change. Nothing changes. What am I supposed to do? This endless cycle feels so familiar, as if I've been here for a long time.

My mind is blank. I can't seem to summon any thoughts, any words, any images, any memories, any feelings, anything to it. It's impossible to focus yet it's impossible to stop the input of these paradoxes. Burning and freezing. Moving and remaining motionless. Seeing and being blind. Feeling at ease and losing my mind. Think. Think! THINK! 
A distant bell rings in the background. It grows louder. I hear a familiar sounds as if something firm is grinding against a soft and crunchy substance. The distant bell continues to ring. Suddenly, the darkness turns into a vivid scenery. A light brown strip comes into view in the middle with splotches and explosion of green, blue, white, red, and yellow appear to the sides of it. Above green, blue, and white puffs start to come into view. I no longer feel weightless, but I still feel rather light, but I feel so close to the ground. It has been this way for what feels like decades, but the abyss has only disappeared for a second. Suddenly, the blur of colors and basic brown strip seem to instantaneously became clear. It's a trail! A dirt trail! The dirt trail that ran behind my first home!

"On your left!"

I turn around towards the noise of the grinding and ringing and watch as a cyclist speeds past my left side. The sheer speed of the cyclist generates a slight breeze and a whirring sounds replace the ringing as the grinding begins to fade away. A cloud of dirt and dust climbs up from the ground and reach my chest level as I watch the cyclist ride farther and farther away from me. That's right! I ran these trails everyday after school. I'm probably seven or eight right now and am on my way home. I feel so happy! It's been a long time since I ran this trail. Running this again would bring me the greatest joy. So, why am I standing still? Why can't I move? Why do I feel so sad? I want to be happy, so why do I feel sad? 

"Irrroooohhhh!"

This voice... it sounds so familiar. 

"Iroh! Come back."

I want to look at this voice. Who is this? Why am I starting to look down at my feet?

"Iroh! Brother. Wait up!"

I remember now. I know why I'm so sad. This is the voice of my older brother, Druen. I had almost completely forgotten about him, so why am I remembering such a sad thing to think about now. But, what was I even doing before this? Is this my life flashing before my eyes? Why this moment of all moments?

I feel a tug on my shoulder. I want to look up. I want to see Druen's face again! I want to see my big brother before ... before ... what happened again?

"Iroh, I'm - "

Silence.

What was he saying? Who was talking to me? Where was I? It's pitch black. It's darkness. I feel weightless, like I have been. Nothing ever changes. This cycle of moving through an abyss of nothingness while never changing places. It feels so boring, yet so interesting. It's as if I'm exploring a great wilderness, but it's all familiar, all the same old stuff I've already seen. It's all the same stuff everybody sees. A ball of white starts to appear in front of me. It seems as if black snakes are trying to escape from it. Suddenly, the pitch black becomes a light blue and my eyes feel as if they should be blinded by the change in luminosity. 

"Big brother! Big brother! I win!"

I'm looking down and I see such a familiar smile. It's my little sister Leanne! That's right, this is her seventh birthday party at the outdoor pool in our neighbor's backyard! This is the birthday that my dad dresses up in a Lobsterman costume and jumps into the pool and pretends to be a monster. It was so fun for my little sister until she hit her head on the side of the pool. Why didn't I participate again? Oh, that's right. In a few moments I'll be - WHACK!

It's black and orange as my eyes are forced closed from a heavy impact to the back of my head. I open my eyes and I'm underwater. The chlorine is stinging my eyes, but the back of my head is stinging more. I begin to feel a tug on my left arm and slowly start floating away from the direction I'm looking. I notice beads and strings of red all around me. Shouldn't I be unable to think right now? I feel so much pain in the back of my head, yet feel completely unharmed. 

"Dad! Dad! Help!" 

I can hear my little sister's muffled voice somewhere to the left, no the right, no ... it's somewhere away from me. I feel several small impacts to my chest and left leg. It feels as though a repetition of wooden bats or paddles is gently pushing against my body in a cycle. Suddenly, a wave begins to push me away from behind me to the right. That's right. I remember now. One of my sister's friends didn't like me and had thrown a rock at me while I wasn't looking. I was knocked unconscious and my dad had to dive in to save me. That was when I've been sent to this dark abyss before. That's why it feels so familiar. But why am I being reminded of this? How did I escape from this chasm before? What am I supposed to be doing here?

I begin to close my eyes and it feels as though I sink several meters deep into the pool, yet at the same time, it feels as though I'm being propelled several meters into the air. I open my eyes and it's the same pitch black abyss of nothingness. Black. Darkness. Nothingness. Emptiness. Loneliness. This cycle of motionlessly moving through an abyss. I know now. This isn't my subconscious. This isn't some place I've been sent to by some otherworldly force. This is just a waiting room. This is the place that my mind created where I wait when I experienced a strong flood of emotions. I wonder what had happened this time. It appears I've regained control of my mind. I'm able to ponder and remember things at my command now. It's no longer a cycle of true paradoxes and pitch black.

This should be the fourth time I've been sent here. It appears I've already recalled the first two times I was sent here, but that means, that any moment now, I'm going to remember the worst things that happened to me. The reason I'm the way I currently am, it's because of what happens to me next, or rather, what had happened to me over the course of six months last year. I hate thinking about it, but I don't think I have a choice.

I'm in my house, standing behind my parents. The front door is open and my parents and an unfamiliar man are standing in the doorway. It's raining outside, but the man carried no umbrella, so his hair is completely soaked. He's wearing a business suit and tie with shades covering his eyes. In his right hand is a briefcase, in his left his hat which he's holding over his chest. You can't tell by his appearance, due to him being soaked, but this man is crying. My mother is crying too, as she falls to her knees and throws her body against the wall next to the door. Her crying turns to sobbing. The phone my father was holding in his hand drops to the floor. I remember this day very vividly. I begin to cry in this memory now at this moment, but for some reason this time it's different. For some reason, I'm grinning. It's not a normal grin either, it's a grin as though I'm enjoying doing something nefarious. Why am I grinning?

The conversation moves to the dinner table and the unfamiliar man has dried off with a towel. My mother has locked herself in her bedroom and my father looks pale and distraught. I'm sitting next to my little sister who's staring at my dad confused as she tilts her head from side to side trying to make sense of what's going on.

"Sozin." The unfamiliar man turns to my father and says his real name. "Shall I tell them? Shall I tell them the full story?"

No! Don't! I've heard it before. I don't need to hear this again!  

"Yes." A very unconvincing barely exhaled affirmation comes from my ghost-expression father. 

"Very well." The unfamiliar man begins. I'm crying and screaming on the inside. I want to shut it out. I don't want to remember these words, but yet they begin and they're louder and clearer than I remember them being in the moment.

"Iroh, Leanne, my name is Andrew Langer. I am a member of the special forces division of the United States Federal Bureau of Investigations Phantom Department. You might know me as a phantom hunter. I was partnered with your brother, Druen Linag. Three nights ago, we were tasked with a scouting operation ..."

Tears begin to well under Andrew Langer's shades. He pulls them off to reveal dry, red eyes with giant purple bags enough. Compared to his blonde hair and cleanly shaven face, it looks as though someone planted splotches of berries against a piece of white bread. This is when my sister begins to understand and a tear rolls down her face.

"It was just supposed to be a low-rank scouting operation ... but we ... "

My father stands up and walks out of the room.

"We ran into some unexpected complications. We were able to recover the body. At least what was left of it, but it was a terrible accident. I'm sure you understand at this poi-"

"Where's my big brother?" my sister interrupts. "Where's Druen? When is he coming home?"

My sister has streams of tears rolling down her face and snot hanging from her nose. Her pretty face is being puckered up into an impossibly sad complexion. Just looking at her cry would make anyone want to cry. Even Andrew Langer begins to bawl. Everyone begins to cry profusely without stop. 

I remember that day so vividly. I wasn't even able to mourn my brother's death one bit, but I think that was the best thing for everyone. The next moment, I was on a bus turning into the parking lot next to a huge sports stadium. I, with a few other kids from across Washington were on the famed ride to the National High School Track & Field competition at Hayward Field. Suddenly, as if nothing was changing or going by faster than usual, I was down in a starting position for the race. The sounds begin to go off from the speakers and I go through my normal motions and the fake gunshot from the stadium speaker goes off. I'm running. I'm running faster than I ever had before. I just wanted to escape it all. I wanted to run to a world where my brother was still alive. Before I knew it, I was on a podium with pictures being taken of me.

"And he's done it again! The fastest kid alive wins the national title for the 200m dash!"

That's right. This is the second time I had beaten the national record for the High School Track & Field Competition. My natural athletic ability was amazing. Earlier this track & field season, I had beaten the record by 2 tenths of a second, and now I had shatters my previous record by a whole half second. It seemed impossible what limits I had beaten on this day. I won two national titles in my junior year of high school and broken a record I had already set. 

The crowd erupts in cheering and my name is being chanted "Iroh! Iroh! Iroh!" and the noise fades into a different crowd. I'm now getting off the bus and walking towards my school's front entrance. Everyone's pointing at me and congratulating me. Just a month ago, before the school started, I had achieved something the school has never in its long history. Of course I'd be congratulated by every student that knew my name and face. I wish I could stay in this day forever, because my fragile little pedestal I'm standing on will topple tomorrow.

"He raped me!"

A girl in tears with the school nurse and school dean helping her stay standing was pointing at me in the hallway of the second story. In my group of friends, it was obvious who she was pointing at. All my friends began to step away from me and the finger stayed locked onto me. I couldn't believe it. Why was this happening? Why do I have to relive this again?

The next moment, I'm sitting in the office of the school dean beside the father of the young girl who said I had raped her. He looks unexpectedly calm given the scenario because he hadn't been told why he was called here and why he was sitting next to the most popular star of the school in the dean's office. My mom opens the door behind me and stomps in a serious manner.

"What is the meaning of this? Why is my son in this office when he should be in class right now? What could be so important that you take my prodigy of a son out of class and tell me to come talk? What kind of school treats a young boy like-"

"Ma'am, please sit down."

The dean interrupts my mom with the coldest version of that statement that has ever been uttered on this planet. A ringleader of a mafia nor a loan-shark dealing with a middle-aged man on their last leg could not mimic that statement. A police officer trying to keep his cool in the midst of interrogating a serial killer could not create the atmosphere this man had just created. Alder Beck, a former criminal psychologist, and now dean of my high school, was known as the scariest man in all of the state of Washington. It was rumored before this that with just one simple command, he could take control of the situation. Before this moment, I never believed it, but at this moment, I realized that my life was over. It was in this man's hands. Even now, re-watching this memory away from this man's influence, I feel terrified. For the first time in this review of my past, I no longer am sitting, feeling the same thing I was feeling in that moment. I am now a separate entity as though those words shot my soul outside of my body.

Mr. Beck cocks his head towards me and stares into my eyes. A cold shiver runs down my spine and my throat goes dry. I've felt this feeling before. I now remember that this was just a fraction of the feeling I had felt before going into that dark abyss. Beck's bald head no longer has a luster and shine to it. His glasses no longer put a look of serious and determination. As he uses his right pinky-finger to push his glasses up the ridge of his nose, it feels as though the entire room is staring down at me as if I'm some horrendous monster. It feels as though I'm in fact a weak, helpless monster being stared down by an army of first-rate warriors that are ready to kill me at a moment's notice.

"Well, Mr. Linag. Would you care to explain exactly what you have done?"

I clear my throat and begin to speak but all that comes out is "I - the...no... there-n't ... ha"

"I see I may have intimidated you." Mr. Beck says matter-of-factly. "I'll give a brief synposis of what is going on."

He opens a metal filing cabinet beside his desk and pulls out a file and goes on to say as if he's a lawyer in a courtroom telling a story to a judge.

"Iroh Linag is a senior in high school with a perfect track record, pun intended. Perfect grades, perfect attendance, zero write-ups, and an excelling performance in athletics. With his newfounded fame, he proceeded to use the name he had built up to meet with a girl after school yesterday and take her on a surprise date. That was when he forced herself upon her and I believe you know where the rest of this heads."

I sit there in silence and my mom drops her jaw and looks back and forth between me and the dean. "Are you accusing my son of something so grave without evidence?"

"No ma'am. The testimonies of his friends state that they went as a group when Iroh and this girl strayed from the group late at night and -"

"I just walked her home. He certainly knows!" I stand up and interject pointing at the father of the girl that is sitting beside me.

"Is that true Mr. Jansky? Did he come home with your daughter in tow?"

"Well yes-" Mr. Jansky spits out in a squeaky voice.

"And what time was it when they reached your home?"

"Well it was probably half past eleven-"

"And did your daughter seem distraught at all?"

Silence and hesitation.

"Did your daughter's clothes seem unkempt?"

Further silence as awkwardness and confusion fills the room. Mr. Beck begins again as if he knew that the conversation was going to be steered exactly as it had gone. Perhaps he had, or perhaps he's just an expert in these kind of conversations.

"While it is true that rape can last for hours, many instances of rapes like these can occur in a brief window of ten or so minutes. From the testimonies of his friends, they split off at about eleven o'clock last night and the Jansky household is approximately a fifteen minute walk from the house. With the biological evidence sent into the lab today, I think it's safe to assume that there's ample time for this story to be irrefutable. Right now, everything is pointing to the fact that this indeed did happen. I'm truly sorry for your son's behavior ma'am."

I can't believe this. Once again, he's completely taken over the conversation. Everyone believes the lies this man is spewing out. The room is collapsing in on me again. I want to stand up for myself, but I can't even breathe. The immense amount of pressure and intensity coming from a single man is incomprehensible. I black out and return to the abyss of darkness.

The truth in the end is that the biological evidence was refuted and charges were never pressed, but rumors began to spread. People, students and parents alike, believed the school had paid to cover up their famed track star so that he could get off scot-free, but the truth was far from that. The devil of a woman that Laura Jansky is has simply lied to get attention. She craved my popularity, and now had received that. Since the second day of senior year of high school, I rarely ever went in. The bullying began and I found work away from my school in order to escape it. I had gone from the most popular star to being treated like the worst scum imaginable. My life was ruined by a well-acted and produced lie. 

"I'm a proud hunter, but first and foremost, a proud father. Or so I was."

Why am I hearing my father's words now? These words hurt the most.

"I spent two decades making a name for myself as a private phantom hunter all to cut back and raise a family. I sent my first son to his grave and I thought it was redemption when my second son became a national sensation! But he's just a lowly criminal who abused his reputation. Just because the cops didn't get involved doesn't mean you didn't ruin your life yourself. You're awful."

These words, they cut so deep. Even my own father doesn't believe me.

"Dad," the last time I call him that. "I didn't do it. I swear. Please believe m-" CRACK!

My father had slapped me on the right side of my face with his left hand. This was the first time he had truly hit me and it was all because of a lie.

"YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT! You didn't even defend yourself in front of your mother and you expect me to believe your lies now! Get out of my sight."

These words. The truth of how my father is so gullible and so cruel is so hurtful compared to the lies that he had told me after my brother had died.

"It's okay. We'll get through this together."

Yeah, we sure did. The first moment to abandon me, you decided to take it father. Now look at me. I'm wallowing in a dark abyss again. My life was ruined, so I guess it's fitting that it continues to spiral down to the point where I'm probably dead now. Those faces that I saw were of monsters. Those distorted humanoid beings were probably phantoms. I acknowledge their existence now. I thought it was a cover-up story that my brother died to the hands of phantoms, but I suppose that it must be true. After all, I'm probably going to be killed by a horde of them now.

A memory flashed before my eyes just then. It was me staring down at my brother's remains. Although my father and mother advised against it, they allowed me to look at my brother one last time. He looked similar to me, except that he had a face that would contest with any of the pretty boys from boy bands. It had a nice yellowish-brown tan to it and a beauty mark under his right eye. His dark black hair was like a night sky against the beautiful skin of his face. He was the same height as me and had a much more muscular body. All I could see, as the last memory of him, was that beauty mark under his right eye surrounded by lacerations and bruises of purple, black, and red. If it wasn't for that beauty mark, I could've passed it off as an unknown stranger, but deep down, I knew that was my brother. I guess I'll be seeing him soon though.

"You're seriously going to die like this! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" 

A shrewd voice from all around me beckoned towards me and began to chuckle flooding me with overwhelming sounds. It was a familiar voice but I don't remember where I had heard it.

"This isn't the last memory of your brother, don't you remember?"

Just then, the memory of an unknown woman giving me a necklace with a bell at the end of it flashed before my eyes. The necklace with the bell was said to be the last thing my brother had wanted to give me before he died. This necklace and bell, I never took it off since I received it. This is what I used to seal away the sad memories of my brother and cherish his caring and kind nature. Every time it jingled I remembered my brother, for it's what he wore all those years, and he had passed it on to me. Of course, my brother isn't a sad memory. He's something resonates with me.

"AHAHAHAHAHA! And to think your brother would protect you even after he died!"

What? What do you mean he's protecting me?

"You'll see. Open your eyes!"

I try to open my eyes but nothing's happening. 

"Come on! Wake up already!"

That's right. This is the shrewd voice that told me to stay still, but look at the situation it's gotten me.

"You going to open your eyes yet?"

The darkness begins to lighten up slightly. I open my eyes to see that same fat, ugly face before hand, but now it's different. It looks as though it's not looking at me like a snack, but rather how a dog looks at their master. And then, it slowly turned around. All the oblong, distorted, and damaged face began to look at the fat face that had turned around. I can now see its body is as fat as its face. It stands about 3 meters tall, but its face appears to be its entire front half of its body. Phantom or not, this fat, pale, monster is a scary sight. Hopefully that's all it is.

Whoosh!

Suddenly the fat, pale, monster vanished. A blur of white smoke is all I can see in front of me. All the monsters with oblong, distorted faces are gone and in there place is a confetti of pale unidentifiable rectangles and a mist of blood-red liquid. I look around me and the same confetti and mist appears all around me. I then look above me into the opening and I see that fat face staring down. His blood-red eyes are now a tint of sky blue and his nose is closed into slits. His grin now reveals only red teeth with bits of the confetti on the outside and between the gaps. Did he eat the other phantoms? What exactly is this monster and why hasn't eaten me?

"Hi young master. It's nice to finally meet you."

It's the shrewd voice from before! Suddenly, my eyes begin to close and my legs feel weak. I collapse to the floor looking upwards as my eyes finish closing. I hear nothing but silence as I fade into a deep sleep.