I stood waiting by her door, gripping a bouquet of flowers a little too forcefully. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what was to come. Already anticipating a disaster to some extent, I didn’t exactly have high hopes.

At last, she arrived. The house door slowly opened, and it revealed a stranger. She was no longer the childhood friend I once knew. We were adults now, and hadn’t seen each other in a decade.

Suddenly fumbling with the flowers, I held them out to her, saying, “Hello, Lua.”

She looked up at me, the astonishment visible in her eyes. Her emotions had always been easy to read. She took the flowers gracefully.

“Jake.” She said, my name falling out her mouth as if it were the most unnatural thing. “It’s been a while.”

Her tone sounded unsure, more than unpleasant. My stomach took a flip.

“Please, come on in,” she said, forcing a sad smile as she opened the house door wider.

She showed me to the living room, and we sat down across from each other. The silence was loud.

I took a deep breath, and said, “I think you know why I’m here.”

“After all these years…” she started. “You kept your word.”

I smiled weakly.

“You know… this unusual predicament we’re in.” I said quietly.

She paused. A brief moment passed, but it was long enough for me to see the sadness flicker in her eyes. A dancing, fleeting moment.

Almost laughing, she added, “I really wonder what our lives would be like now if we hadn’t made that silly joke all those years ago.”

“It was my fault… I was immature,” I said, remembering the day with a shiver.

We were both eight years old. She was my neighbour, and naturally, we grew up together, playing games and running around the streets. Considering how it was a time when magic was prohibited, we were particularly reckless.

Acting as adventurous travellers, we stumbled upon forbidden secrecies, only to be discovered by either a curious child or a trespasser with a death wish.

An ominous building. A foggy wall of protection that practically screamed, “KEEP OUT!” But being the brilliant horror-movie protagonists we were, we entered without hesitation.

We stumbled upon a room, filled with delicate treasures. An aura of magic coated the air, and perhaps that drove our insanities.

I picked up a little golden ring, with a shiny jewel embedded. Of course, I would not take it, but I lifted it to the window’s light.

Lua gasped, perhaps both out of shock and admiration. “Wow…” she gushed. “It’s… beautiful.”

Laughing, and properly pumped with the rebellious adrenaline, I exclaimed, “A wedding ring…” I looked her in the eye, and dropped to the floor on one knee. Grandly (or so I thought, at the time), I held the ring up to her, and said, “Marry me, Lua?”

It was a joke. A childish act. She giggled, flattered.

“Yes!” She replied, letting me place the ring on her finger.

…

That moment. That was when it all fell apart.

Lights. Sounds. Force.

The magic seeped through the ring. What appeared to be a coloured gas rose through the air, blinding the two of us. Sparkles of light, often shown to be beautiful in the movies, were more like terrifying fireworks being released centimetres away. Something, through the cloudy fog, pushed the two of us.

I could suddenly feel her hand, and we gripped onto each other out of terror.

A voice, unexplainable, like the moment, came from the room, saying, “The oath. You have made the oath. Once both of you are eighteen, your fates must intertwine. The oath of marriage.”

What happened after was a blur. A blur I do not wish to recall…

Back in the present time, we both gazed at each other.

“It’s both our fault,” she admitted. “We shouldn’t have trespassed.”

“I suppose.”

There were so many things I wanted to ask her. How was life? Did she ever get that game she really liked? Is she studying medicine like she dreamed?

But I only managed to say, with a saddened heart, “Marry me?”

Romance can bloom from the little things. — I had been selected as an architect spirit when I was young. A randomised system only disclosed to those recruited like myself. We followed the lives of people of our age, and we craft relevant dreams for them. I had no life, perhaps both figuratively and literally, for I was a wandering soul, simply tasked with following around the living. We were assigned to a different group of people every year, to encourage diverse personalities. I watched children of my age grow up. I witnessed their joys, their tragedies, their struggles, their victories. I heard loved ones sing them an off-key “Happy Birthday” all in the spirit of good nature and compassion. I watched happy families develop. I had no family. I had no friend. I just wandered the world. What else could I do, but watch?

I had just turned 15 when I was assigned to craft the dreams for a particular 15 year old boy. Unlike the majority of people I had been assigned to previously, this boy did not radiate happiness and joy. He seemed very drained. I never saw him smile. Every morning, he would make his way to the school library. He always arrived unnaturally early, and would sometimes simply sit down in his library chair by the window and watch the Sun rise. He would be lost in thought.

I soon came to understand why.

There was not a crack in his perfections. Top student, perfect scores, captain athlete. Yet he seemed so utterly miserable. Perhaps, looking back, the issue itself was that he had no faults, and that is what made him miserable.

He wasn’t loved by anyone. His own family showed him no compassion. He didn’t know what happiness was, For he had never been taught it.*

He was having nightmares, before I came along. Such violent, traumatic events that he never wanted to see, but could never properly run from. Instead, he started avoiding sleep as much as possible. It was not healthy. He slept for very few hours each day, leaving him completely drained.

My senior, who was the only spirit who remotely cared for us young spirits, had taught me that we should help these humans, and encourage happiness and love. To care for them, using our supernatural advantages.

I quickly set to work, creating a dream for him. Something he wouldn’t fear. Something he would stay around for.

A calming sunset. A comforting orange glow, capturing surrounding beauty. He stood in an vast field of soft grass and pretty flowers, sprinkled in abundance. The area wasn’t so wide as to be terrifyingly endless, but not small enough to be uncomfortably restricting.

He opened his eyes, surprised with the sight before him. His breathing was hurried and his heartbeat unsure. He knew that it was surely destined to lead to catastrophe, as all his dreams.

I materialised before him, landing next to him with a soft thud on the grass. “Relax,” I said. He stared at me, eyes wide. Perhaps not out of astonishment for my presence, but my even more surprising voice. I had just had the most awful voice crack possible. What a fantastic introduction. Quickly, I start coughing repeatedly, trying to clear my throat. “You… okay?” He asks me curiously. “Mhm,” I croaked awkwardly holding a thumbs up. “My voice isn’t exactly perfect after not using it for a few years.” He stared at me, bewildered. “Who are you?” “Me?” I grinned. “I’m someone you’re gonna keep seeing for a while!” “I don’t know whether I should feel happy or threatened,” he mumbled, stepping back slightly, indicating the latter option. “Hey, hey,” I said, grabbing his arms gently. “I am not your enemy.” “Are you sure?” He laughed bitterly. “Because my dreams never end well. Why are you even here? What even is this place?” “Too many questions,” I replied, sighing. I released his arms, and waved my hands into the air, creating beautiful sparks and streaks of vibrant colour in the sky. “This… this is a place of comfort. So, calm down.” “What is that demonstration supposed to mean for me?” He said, sceptical. Ignoring him, I continued, “So, what do you want? Name it, and I’ll create it.” He stared at me for a long while. “Forget it,” he answered. “This is making my scared. Something bad is going to happen.” I felt the world around us suddenly shake, signalling him trying to wake up. “Ah, I see, so you really are one of those mortals who can control when you wake—“ My statement was cut off as he disappeared from the world, along with the dream world crumbling to pieces.

I found myself back in the earth world, floating as an invisible spirit once more. “Dang it!” I cried through gritted teeth to nothing in particular. Ultimately, I had to wait the length of the day for him to return to sleep once more, though briefly.

The day passed incredibly slowly. I visited my senior for advice. “Relax.” They told me. “Do not act so rashly as to lose him immediately. Try to be more natural. Connect in a way he understands.” I thanked and left my senior, thinking.

He eventually fell asleep once more, and my world immediately appeared before him once more. “Again?” He exclaimed to the skies. “I won’t stick around for long, so don’t even dare try something funny.” “Seriously,” I replied, appearing beside him. “I’m not going to hurt you or scare you. I’m all positivity.” His responding glare at me told me that he absolutely did not trust me. “What do you want?” I repeated. “Video games? Food? A swimming pool?” I generated such materials before us. “Okay, maybe not quite all at once,” I chuckled nervously, as we both watched the chocolate bars and iPads sink to the bottom of the swimming pool. “Nothing,” he said bluntly, walking away from me. “Leave me alone.” “You’re quite bitter, aren’t you?” He made no reply. “You’re sticking around longer today though… are you curious?” I called out after him. He flinched slightly, stopping in his tracks briefly. “No.” Sighing, I clicked my fingers dramatically and changed the scenery around us. The dreamy meadow transitioned into an abyss of light, almost blinding the two of us. Alarmed, he jumped back, not accustomed to this floating environment. There was no floor. “Hey! This isn’t funny,” he cried, crouching down, scared. “I’ll just wake up…” He threatening voice trailed off as I appeared beside him again, placing my hands on his shoulders. “Have you ever wondered how it would feel to fly?” I asked. Underneath my touch, fluttering, majestic curtain-like wings started to flow from his back. “I know you’ve dreamed of such,” I whispered, referring to his childhood aspiration of being a pilot.

I changed the scene once more, placing us high above the sunlit meadow. I watched as his eyes glistened. Perhaps brief, but for a moment, he looked genuinely amazed and curious. He quickly turned to me, observing me. His face flipped into a frown, and he scowled, “Nice try. But I’m not signing up for this horror movie content.” At that, he quickly woke up, crumbling the world once more. Exasperated, I found myself back where I started. I waited another day. I needed him to stay. His lack of sleep was concerning.

The day passed. “Guess what?” I said instantly, as soon as he began to dream once more. “It’s me!” He didn’t reply. “Fine, don’t speak. Just stay.” I said. Suddenly, I held my hands up, generating a comforting cottage before us, surrounded by a small lake and a few trees. He looked on, intrigued. “You don’t have to explore if you don’t want to,” I said softly. “But in case you want to sit down or something, feel free to stay in this cottage.” He couldn’t deny it. He was curious. Curious about the cottage. Curious about me. Curious about these dreams. “I’ll leave you now,” I said, walking off. “No pressure.” I had only taken a few steps, when I heard him call out from behind me, “Wait!” I stopped. “Please… could you… stay?” He said slowly. “Here, with me?” My eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t want to be left alone. With a gentle smile, I replied, “Sure.” “Don’t get the wrong idea,” he quickly snapped. “I’m not saying this because I like you or something… I just don’t trust this place, and want you to be here too.” “Yeah yeah, so you’d rather be with me, an even MORE untrustworthy person, to explore the shady cottage with you,” I joked, nudging him. We stepped inside, with him following behind me, uneasy. Sunlight poured through the windows, lighting up the attractive interior. There was an invitingly soft couch in the centre, and I could tell he was drawn to it. Even in his dreams, he was exhausted. “Go on,” I said encouragingly. “I’ll stay in the kitchen.” He collapsed to the couch as soon as I was out of view, and fell asleep almost instantly. “Huh,” I whispered to myself. “Asleep in a sleep. Poor guy must be so tired.” I sat on a chair in the kitchen, allowing the tranquil light to absorb me as I smiled contentedly.

Hours passed, and eventually he woke up from both of his sleeps, causing the world to fade away once more. He woke up, feeling refreshed and rested. He hadn’t slept for 7 hours straight in such a long time. It felt… comforting.

That day, instead of waiting impatiently for his return, I spent the day wandering the city and observing the school classes. I was the same age aa he was, after all. I was just a teenager who never had any childhood. The mischief of the classes’ back rows were consistent. Students glanced out the windows sighing. The students rejoiced once out of class, all rushing to the cafeteria and lining up at the vending machines. Students sat together under the trees, blocking out the dazzling sun. I saw groups playing some card games, screaming at the tricksters and grinning with their teammates. A shy girl stood in the corner, eventually approached by a boy, holding a pretty flower, with his friends watching, encouraging him to confess. Another person sat on a bench, absorbed by the book he was reading, ignoring all the students around him. A group of students played football too, apologising earnestly upon accidentally hitting a girl passing by.

All had individual lives. Their own story to tell. They were all main characters, of course, for their own stories of life.

I walked through the school field, past all these students. They could not see me, for I was invisible.

However, as I passed, I felt a movement brush against my shoulder. A human had walked by. That was odd. A spirit like me can not be affected by the physical touch of humans.

I brushed it off, considering it a delusion formed as a result of my hard work crafting these recent dreams.

But I soon realised the truth. As I continued to stroll through the fields, I slowly noticed the students staring. They were staring, mouths open, and some pointed. I looked around, wondering. They began to clear a path, and the field was empty before me. They were staring at me! But how? They can’t see me. My long spirit gown fluttered in the winds.

Before me stood the boy who dreamt. He walked over to me in disbelief.

A voice whispered in my ear, “Be free, young one.” My senior. They had set me free.

On my new human legs, I walked over to meet the boy. He smiled, and whispered, “What about the cottage?” “There’s more to life.” I grinned.

END

*whoops that sounds like a line from Lookism:

“I did not cry then, for I had never learned what sadness was.” - Jonggun, chapter 521

My status is the highest; I sit at the top of the food chain. The reigning star student, Like a king among the abundant. Nobody can reach me, For this is my kingdom.

All eyes on me, As I walk, my back is covered with longing stares and Admiration of the many.

Yet despite my eternal presence in the spotlight, And despite the eyes on me, Despite the constant surveillance, Why is it, That nobody truly sees me?

Their eyes are temporary, Their words are plastic, Their understanding is shallow, And they don’t know Who I really am.

Minus the spotlight. Minus the eyes. Minus the surveillance. Who am I? Bare and honest,

Do they know who I am, When nobody is watching?

(Emotional/metaphorical rather than literal)

I guard this child. My duty, as her imaginary guardian, is to annihilate all negative thoughts that attack the young one’s mind. So far, her first nine years have been easy to deal with.

However, today, I encountered a wild beast. Wilder than a lion. Harsher than a storm. Stronger than a sword.

Self-hate.

She cried. Her tears splattered to her carpet floor. She sat against her room door, muffling her cries with her shaking hand. She was grasping at emotions she could barely understand.

“Everyone is perfect.” That was her assumption. “So why not me?” She cried, and in her mind, a childlike part of her had shattered.

The judgemental stares of others were amplified sirens in her mind. To her, she was treated as a villain. “When everyone looks at me like so…” she thought bitterly. “… It is simply all too easy to take that role.” That role of a villain.

She couldn’t even hate anyone sufficiently. After all, a part of her guilt knew that it was only herself to blame. She could only hate herself. “And that,” she smiled weakly. “Seems to be my solution.”

Her words hurt me. What had instilled this attitude in her? She was no villain. She was a child. She did not know, yet what was this? She deserved happiness. She deserved her childlike innocence. Yet she lies empty-handed. A lack of compassion. A lack of care. Neglect.

She was only a child.

(Part of an antagonist backstory supposedly)

The rotting, wooden walls stare at me, threateningly closing in. The box is my cage; my springs are my chains. I am suffocated by the looming imprisonment of the ceiling above me, only to be opened when an eager, childlike face appears above me. They watch me spin dizzyingly in circles, the metal structures instructing me into a forced performance of agony. My cries are of no use, when my body is trapped in an eternal pirouette. A ballerina doesn’t cry, for this is how I was designed.

“It’s hard to be inconspicuous when you’re hanging upside down.” My eyes fluttered open instantly to this familiar voice, and I instantly grinned at the upside down sight. “Aha, my favourite friend!” I called out. “Here to save me, I assume?” “No,” he responded bluntly. “I’m not supposed to be here.” “Yet here you are… in front me.” I continued half teasingly. “C’mon, for old time’s sake. Please?” “Stop teasing me.” He responds coldly. “I know you could have just rescued yourself ages ago.” “Haha,” I replied, grabbing the knife from my pocket to cut the rope. “You know me too well.” Hearing this, he slammed down the control to cut the rope himself, and I spontaneously fell to the hard floor with a violent thud. “Ow!” I cried, clutching my head. “That hit me head on! That was my head, y’know.” “There’s nothing in there anyways,” he said casually, beginning to walk away. “For your information, I was never here today.” “So why did you come to see me if you knew I could save myself?” I called out after him. He didn’t respond. “Aw, you missed me, didn’t you?” I realised, my eyes widening, running after him still slightly stunned from the impact of the floor. “Be quiet.” “I will not.” I bounced after him, calling, “You care, don’t you?” He continued walking, not facing me. He was my best friend and biggest rival. He was the other half of our iconic duo. Together, we were the most feared and respected guys out of the whole department. After being assigned on our first mission years ago and spending so much time together, this arrangement inevitably resulted in some sort of bond, be it hate or love. Pretending to trip, I clutched onto his arm. Half jokingly, I exclaimed, “Dang, you gave me quite the head injury from that fall. I can’t quite walk—.” Instantly, he placed his arm around my shoulders, providing me with support. Feeling my heart rate speed up without warning, I instantly escaped from his grasp and sprinted away, saying in my usual joking tone, “I was kidding, man!” I faced away from him, trying to conceal the slight blush creeping up to my face. He could never know.

Growing up has always been a challenge. A conventional struggle we endure to build us for the adult world. As I sat on the bus ride back from my final school trip, I could feel all the emotions catching in my throat. I tried to swallow them, to suppress the tears developing. It was a happy day. I didn’t want to change that. My group of friends and I sat together on the bus, laughing and showing each other funny photos of the four of us found in our camera rolls over the years. We were a tough group of boys, and we rarely showed such sentimentality. But that day, we all knew, was a special day allowing for any possibilities. We would drown in nostalgia for that day and that day only. Our final school day together. The evening sky was darkening, and as I stared out the window longingly, I could see the reflections of us sitting there under the harsh bus lighting. We had collectively switched our phones off now, allegedly to “conserve battery”, but we all knew deep down that we meant to relish our lasts moments together. “Hey,” my closest friend, Kim whispered beside me. “Last day of high school.” “Yeah,” I replied. “It’s crazy.” He nudged me and added, “All these years and you never even got a girlfriend.” “Well, there’s more to life than that,” I said calmly. “There’s no need to rush it.” “Wise words, old man,” Kim laughed, sighing and leaning back in his seat. “I wish I’d known…” “C’mon, man, don’t worry. You’ll get over her,” I said. “Mm, but when?” He asked half sorrowfully. “Soon. You’ll pick yourself up; I know you can. You’ll be in university in a few months, and time will fly.” I tried to reassure him. “It hurts in the present though, man.” He said, chuckling. “But I guess, like you said, there’s more to life than this broken heart nonsense.” I smiled weakly. “Let’s enjoy these last moments, at least.” We discussed old friendships and events, and we talked about future plans. “Growing up is scary, man,” Kim murmured. “Our first year of high school felt like just days ago.” “Yet here we are… 18 years old and off to university.” “I wish time would have passed slower,” he continued. “Maybe I wouldn’t have made so many stupid mistakes that way.” “Nah, you still would’ve!” Called one of our friends seated behind us. We laughed together before silence swept over us again. “You know,” I began slowly. “I’m really gonna miss you, man.” “Yeah?” Kim replied quietly. “Me too. I’ll miss you too.” “Starting afresh for university feels so scary. We should’ve just applied to the same ones, haha.” I joked. Slowly, the bus turned into the familiar road of the school, and drove past the iconic school gates. I could hear other students around me start clapping and cheering various words, saying just anything in the moment, knowing it was our last opportunity to do so. Trembling slightly, I stepped off the school bus, and surprisingly hugged my close friends goodbye. We did our well rehearsed handshakes for the last time and smiled at each other. I then turned to Kim, and I could feel the tears building up again. I instead pulled him into a tight hug so that he couldn’t notice, and said, “See ya, man. It has been a wild ride, all these years.” “Sure has. Thanks for being there, always,” he said, the emotion quavering in his voice as he attempted to choke back the tears falling too. “You too, thanks for everything.” “Have a brilliant life, man.” “Yeah, and you. Be careful out there.”

We entered the room as allies, Honest with each other, And united by our foolishness. The silent classroom, with Fellow students waiting for The distribution of test papers. We swore, moments before, That we had both failed To study for the test. A source of comfort To my worried soul. Yet as I scribbled down my Hopeless answers, I had a feeling in my Mind, that my ally Was lying. The sound of their strokes and scribbles were too confident For a troubled soul. Days passed, and results, Or should I say, heartbreak, Ensued. I clutched my Brokenhearted score in my Hands, quivering, Yet when I looked over to My ally, I saw a perfect score. Perhaps it was betrayal. Perhaps it was comfort. Perhaps it was a lie.

Loss: The tunes of ABBA swirled my mind. I could feel my hands begin to tremble, and my palms wiped nervous sweat against my sleeves, gripping the fabric. The spotlight shined upon the three of us, standing on the stage. I couldn’t bring myself to look at my parents, somewhere in the crowd. Not that I could see them, anyways. The lights were too blinding to distinguish any face. I was half certain that my parents had left the awards hall too. The winner had already been unmasked. And that day, that winner was not me. “I’m sorry for being such a failure.” I thought to myself as I walked across the stage, my head hung in shame. The figure in a suit placed a lustrous silver medal around my neck. In that moment, I had wished perhaps for a shimmering bronze medal instead, as it at least bared some semblance to the gold in appearance. But looking back, I realise that the humility I would feel standing on the lowest podium to be too scarring for a lifetime of mine. Walking onto the podium, I felt a wave of embarrassment sweep over me. I just wanted to sink into the floor. Beside me, on the podium beside me, stood my rival, standing for gold. I watched him grin effortlessly and hold up his gold medal with a charm that captured the audience. “What about me?” I thought. “I lost to him by only one point. One point!”

Win: Clenching the gold medal in one hand, I smiled ahead. At last, my efforts had been fruitful. I had studied relentlessly for this competition. The national high school maths championship. I had hated maths a year ago. But this competition meant so much for me. The only academic subject offering a high amount of money for winning the competition. £5000. With that money, I could finally pay for my sick little brother’s treatment, and I could use that money to find a job to help my struggling parents. Maybe we’d even be able to turn the lights on once a week in the house for a time. I’d finally done something right. I helped my family. I made them proud. That was truly the greatest victory of them all.

Unobtainable, independent And carefree. He wanders Across the school corridors, With a gaze both aloof and Drifting, behind His intelligent eyes.

He’s a shining star In our institution of Colourless space. He’s a lustrous metal Whilst we are tarnished. He’s the admired Out of all of us, useless.

A knowingly exaggerated smile And an evidently forced laugh. Never a crack in his perfection, He never loses.

He has a familiarity of an old friend, But our distance is now large, And I can never approach This boy, Who is always Just out of reach.