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"Gahh-owww!!" My knees trembled before giving out.

Shit.

I knew what was coming. But I was too tired to care.

Too tired to stop myself as I watched the world meld slowly before my head connected with the grass. Thankfully, the forage was soft due to my sweat and blood. Months of consistency, and it seemed to finally pay off.

Sigh...

Just blind me. I dare you.

Being as fickle as I was at the moment, I engaged the sun in another useless battle, unwilling to lose as I had many times before. Not just against it, either, but many things. I squinted hard at the ball of heat.

"Damnit."

Instinctively, I shut my eyes, cutting off the blinding light. Although I was determined not to lose, I was also aware of the potential blindness I risked. And I had more than enough on my plate called life already. Blindness was unwelcome.

Sorry love. Maybe in another lifetime.

I chuckled as I endured the discomfort crawling up my skin from exposure to the heat. Why was I laughing when it felt like billions of ants crawled underneath? I had no idea. It was probably one of the signs of impending madness I'd been getting.

It was a long time coming anyway.

I let myself freely squirm in the grass and dirt for a second longer before the fun no longer seemed so fun.

"Damn it all to the nine hells!"

I just could not understand why the weather was always like this. I mean, plants needed sunlight, I understood. But I did not! Why couldn't it be more selective or logical?! No! It had to be as erratic as a newborn!

At night, frost would accumulate everywhere possible. Even hidden spaces were not spared. And by day, it would melt away like it hadn't nearly sent me over a cliff, only to madden me even more with its noon heat.

And finally, combined with the lingering soreness I had to deal with, I was sick of it! I felt the very coercive urge to blot out the sky.

But...

As I raised my hands to do something-anything, I paused, realizing something crucial. I was powerless. And I was getting ahead of myself.

Ah drat.

Quickly, I gave up on the idea and resorted to facing my racing heart. Since I couldn't fight on the away front, I might as well face the home front, right?

Deep breaths.

I laid still, taking in the clear air- possibly the only good thing about the weather. All I had been able to do for years now- was spiral, but it never did anyone good. I only ended up harmed in the process, so I took these exercises seriously.

Years of practice taught me the technique.

In...

Out...

By concentrating and following the right rhythm, my nerves loosened. It was a miraculous feeling I could never get used to. I grew comfortable after a few minutes. Soon, I built back the last bits of strength I expended during a little altercation... with the water.

...

Maybe in another world, I could be considered the cause of all my problems, but I was beyond vexed at the time. It seemed like a reasonable way to vent. And who was I against human reasoning?

I struggled to avoid looking back and realizing the foolishness of my actions-

Drat!

I did it without knowing.

"No..." I shook my head lazily. I didn't have the strength to think of the work ahead, nor did I have the care to. All I wanted was for the grass to keep caressing my sore back. Alone with my thoughts, yesterday's event replayed in my head, more specifically, the later part.

Its bizarreness was not lost on me, leaving me speechless and confused. Reflecting, as I always did on even the tiniest of issues, I was split in two. I tried to avoid thinking, but suffering from something I liked to call near insanity, I could never leave anything be... in my head, that was.

One part retaining some awareness, although heavily suppressed, wanted to just forget shit and move on. The smart Daphne.

The safe Daphne.

However, loopy-Daphne- a pain in the arse and the opposite of all things logical and sensible- remained adamant about making sense of the senseless. And she refused to settle with the conclusion that it could be the usual terrors.

Sadly, she had the better of me as I could see sense in her points, regardless of whether I wanted to disagree. For one, I felt the difference between what happened last night and my night terrors deep down in my subconscious. But I held the skepticism that loopy-Daphne was toying with me.

I could never be sure when I worked with the unstable landscape that was my mind.

Moreso, from previous experience, the terrors were usually only replays of past events. Albeit delivered in a negatively exaggerated form, I always recalled a basis from some part of my memory.

But...

It begged the question; who or what was Anta?

I had zero recollection of an individual, or thing possibly, that went by such a name. Even worse, I didn't remember us discussing who; or whatever that was.

If I did, I would remember it. Vividly.

I always had a reliable memory. In fact, I could still remember some events from when I was two years old as though they occurred yesterday. And obviously, it didn't help with the terrors.

So the quality had its ups and downs. I excelled in everything theoretic, but on the other hand, I had to live with the realism of unpleasant memories that I'd preferably not remember turned into explicitly graphic dreams. I was simply unable to forget.

It remained clandestine, why I couldn't.

But then again, I didn't want to forget him. It was the price I had to pay.

I licked my lips bitterly. Sense was increasingly becoming overrated.

...

Then another moment passed.

It was irresistible as I fell into another battle within myself. The urge to pull my hair out took over as I glossed over random happenings.

I had all these thoughts swirling in my head and the demanding task on the side that-despite how much I wanted to evade, I had to see to. It wasn't up for debate with mom whether or not.

She made it painstakingly clear earlier this morning.

I wanted to start the day with a smile… that was the plan, at least. Although there was a conflict of interest, I tried stowing it to the back of my mind for the day.

The smile was to show that I was happy for the new prospects I could vaguely envision. Some form of personal freedom, maybe. I wanted to make happy memories today. Shamelessly to substitute the not-so-happy ones I had.

But hardly do things roll out the way we plan them to.

And crying after a random trigger was not in any of my plans, not even the backup ones-which I had quite a number of.

Rousing from my dizzy state, the first thing that caught my eyes was the sun’s rays-literally. Most likely from muscle memory, I squirmed, then propped myself up gently with my elbow. I shuffled to pull up the blankets I’d tossed aside -possibly- sometime during my sleep. I wanted to block out the light and heavy cold to catch some more shut-eye.

In that instant, my mind became alert, and I paused, the blanket held right above me. Involuntarily, the cogs in my head started spinning as I awakened. Then, I realized that it was morning, my birthday.

I cried myself to sleep.

Dried tears held my skin, giving me a weird but familiar sensation that screamed, ‘you cried yourself to sleep’. I remembered the feeling of waking up with this signature look- as Dad termed it- with a bitter after-taste.

I could already feel the scowl and eyebags.

Great.

[Wake up with a smile] – Ruined.

Out of habit, I gazed at the window to ascertain the time. The sun was just appearing over the horizon as I concluded: Eight-ish.

I shook, realizing that today was starting out shitty so quickly. I had overslept.

If I wasn’t up and out in a little less than half an hour, be it from my drawer or through my window, hell-in the form of my dearest mother-would break loose. Now I had even more hell to face with the time I had to straighten myself.

I let out a quiet exhale before plopping back on the pillows… an action that proved to be a terrible idea in the following instant.

“Y-yowww!”

I couldn’t hold back.

Breathing heavily, I was quick to lament why I loved making myself miserable. Of all the things that could’ve temporarily escaped me, it had to be the mind-shattering accident I’d had last night.

“Gods-dammit!”

Instinctively I moved to find a more relieving position but realized I couldn’t do jackshit without leading myself through suffering. So I stayed in place and tried my best not to move an inch.

Laying for ten minutes- I had nothing better to do but count- I let the pain subside before gently placing my legs on the polished wooden floor, toes first. I stayed at the edge of the bed, my feet familiarizing themselves with the cold floor, before letting out a breath of reluctance.

Then I crossed the room to the mirror, and there it was.

In all its displeased glory, my signature scowl.

I hated it and didn’t intend to stare a second longer. Shaking my head slightly as if to reset the positioning of my facial muscles, I stared at the mirror with a straight face ready to be sculpted to my desires.

Then for another few minutes, I experimented.

I pulled, pushed, stretched, tugged, forced, and all but performed surgical procedures on my face.

Until I landed on the perfect expression, give or take.

My goal was to express that I totally didn’t cry myself to sleep and would have a great day.

Next was a blur of the bathroom and getting dressed. I kept my door locked since I didn’t have time to sort through the shit storm that was my bedroom.

Last night was a tough night… Don’t ask.

Soon, I was springing down the stairs, looking different from how I woke up. Scowl gone, eyebags attended to with some cosmetics; I was safe.

“You look like you had a rough night.” He stood at the arched entryway into the living room, holding a teacup.

I paused in my tracks, specifically at the base of the stairs.

“Good morning to you too, Dad.” I made sure to amplify the smile on my face.

“You look like shit, Amare.”

While panicking internally, I waited to hear a corresponding retort, which came not long after.

“One more word of that nature out of you, and you’ll be pulling grass. Do you understand?” – Mom.

She walked out of the kitchen carrying plates and whatnots.

“I’ve never pulled grass, though.” He whispered just loud enough for us to hear, as always.

“What did you say?”

And they started bickering.

“I said, yes, ma’am.”

Just a bit more-

“Well, it didn’t sound like it.”

“How’s that my fault?”

Ready..

“The sound came from you!”

“That doesn-”

Now.

“Okay, enough!” I intervened.

And as usual, I walked away from the room and into the kitchen to do my bit without bothering with them any longer. Soon after, I could hear crashing sounds.

I rolled my eyes at the pair of them.

But inside, I was relieved I managed to escape from the earlier calling out from Dad. I preferred not to talk about these things when I didn’t want to, and today was one of those days.

Anyway, breakfast wasn’t out of the ordinary.

Tea first, then an Ardorian family usual; bread with honey-splotch spread and some fruit.

Of course, they didn’t miss the chance to pour out the ‘Happy Birthday.’ And for that short moment, I was happy.

Until the talking started…

“Did you have fun last night?”

I froze, unsure of whether it was visible or not.

The happiness snapped and receded like a burst balloon or rubber band stretched beyond its tolerance as yesterday’s events replayed fast.

Fast enough that I replied without looking suspicious, “Actually, yes. It was beautiful, the traditions. Oh, Goodfellow baker said to tell you that he’s ready for the next batch of spices.” I responded, recalling all of the parts but giving a selective retelling.

“That’s good. I am almost done anyway. I will personally make the delivery a few days from now.”

I nodded in response. Then the silence settled in. I was happy to let it, anyway.

“So what else happened?”

I groaned as he continued to pry. The man had almost zero sensitive bone in his body. Couldn’t he see that I wanted quiet?!

“We, Mira and Kira included, went around the village doing what everyone else was doing.” I shrugged, stamping the urge to shove my knife in his face.

“Anything else interesting?”

It came as a shiver first, and I was about to give him a look. I felt like he was pointing at something, and my mind went into overdrive, ‘Did he know something? Did he follow me?’

There were multiple precedents. He had shadowed me into the village many times before. It was supposed to be a secret, but with his loose mouth, I found out anyway.

I wracked my brain, finding ways to steer the conversation. “Ah yes. I climbed a tree and fell. It was really tall, and now my back hurts like he-” I caught myself before I could finish the sentence, “like soo much…” then ended it with a wry laugh and a nervous rub at the bruised area.

I didn’t have to look up from my plate to see the glare directed at Dad; I could feel it. It was palpable.

I could likewise imagine his ‘what did I do?” face.

Sitting between them, Mom stretched her hand and patted the sore area, which elicited a sharp breath from me. “Sorry. Let’s get that checked after breakfast. Afterward, you can go to the farm and finish up a part of Fletcher’s spices.”

“Yes, oka-” another pause, “Wait, what?!” “With a bruised back?” I asked, unable to believe it.

“You are now an adult, and adults work unless their lives are in danger. So no arguments, I’m not budging on this.” She finished with a chomp of her bread, signaling the end of the conversation. I turned to look at Dad, checking to see if he could intervene, but as typical, he gave a helpless look.

I could only sigh and resume eating in uncomfortable silence. It would have been ill-mannered if I stood and left in the middle of breakfast. Knowing Mom would not let me off kept me rooted to my seat.

Eventually, Dad spoke up after a few minutes.

“So…” His intent to break the ice was clear, and I was about to welcome it either way until I heard what he intended to use to break said ice.

“What’s up with you and Oliver? I hear he’s been after you.”

It didn’t help that I was sipping my tea at that moment. And just like that, I choked and came close to death twice in one day.