The sun is descending towards the horizon as the weather gradually gets colder and colder. Humans counter-attack with more layers of clothing. Even Will did up his shirt before dashing away to the library. I wander alone in the deserted street that was bustling with students fleeing from the university a few minutes ago. Resisting the numbing wind that was here and there, I choose to take a shortcut and enter the main street I always do; something I rarely do unless I have a reason to hurry home. The main street has almost zero liberty from the crowd throughout the day. The traffic only intensifies as people drive back from their shifts. From this street I can take a path straigh home, instead of the little detours I make in the less crowded areas of the neighborhood.
The street before me is usually filled with cars and constant flickers of light, today not being an exception. I recall a lot of accidents occurring on this particular street. The red light alters between green and red eveery fifty seconds. Luckily I don't need to wait much. Things get a lot calmer the further I distance myself from the busy intersection, and the immense, ear-shattering noises of the crowd and the screech of cars pulling their brakes slowly fade into nothing, leaving the same quiet, evanescent feel to the air that seldom gets defiled by the random noise of a car passing, or people mumbling something to their phone as they pass me
Do you want to know how I see the world? Well, I’m not really an expert, but the way I see it, this world is built on some basic rules, and one of them is the rule of convenience, meaning that everything that happens in this world affects at least one person positively. Thus nothing in this world is useless. If the world is based on convenience, then when you lose something, you ought to find it someday, and if you need something, then that’s proof enough of its existence. Like…if you need to quench your thirst, water exists. Like…if you want money, it exists if you really work for it. Like…
Like if you need someone, if you’re lucky enough that the world happens to give you what you want and be kind to you, you might just find that someone.
There was a small park at the end of that street.
There was a bench at the far end of that park.
There was an Atilla sitting on the bench.
I’m not really into blabbing about fated encounters and all that dino-related things you can randomly find on William’s T-shirt, but this was not actually a surprising turn of events. I’ve been watching Atilla Nadha for days, and she usually tends to spend ten to twenty minutes in this park, before going home, which would suggest that what Naomi once told me was essentially wrong. Then again, if she was here, she would argue that me noticing her was the universe acting in someone’s favor from the very beginning. Either that, or she would beat me up for stalking a girl. Naomi was too optimistic that her rules just never sit right with me. If she was here, she would tell me that I was the one who was too pessimistic.
She was also quite argumentative.
Atilla’s purple outlandish scarf that does not match anything she is wearing makes her way too easy to find. The park is mostly empty, the rare passers-by being an exception. This is an apt place to think things through.
Going by William’s intricate guide, the first thing I need to do is to hide somewhere and have a sudden entrance, which does not seem that difficult to pull off, given how she’s spacing out like that. I tiptoe closer to where her bench is and approach from behind. As I get closer to where she’s sitting, I try to be as prudent as I can be with what I’m stepping on; be it a leaf, or a water bottle someone threw on the ground.
Phase two; start by asking a question, and be more straightforward about it. This just seems like one of those fake psychological tricks they advertise, promising you the undying love of ladies. Of course, they usually tend to make women hate you even more than before once they find out you actually use them. Not all women are like Sonny. Albeit, this trick did actually work on me, so let’s just see how it goes.
I put my hands on the cold metal bars behind the bench, and that’s when I realize, my hands have been sweating this whole time. Atilla has still not noticed me, I tighten my grip, and commence plan A: Talking; inspired by William.
“You’re here all by yourself?”
“Myself is my self. You don’t have the right to tell me what to do with it. Leave.” Immediate reply. I was rejected, nonchalantly. None of those pointers were of any use. I guess some people are just hard to manipulate.
In other words, some people are less gullible than I am.
Time for plan B: Parasite; inspired by Sonny.
“I refuse to leave,” I state with a loud and (obviously fake) confident voice.
“What do you want from me?”
“To continue our conversation from before?”
“And what are you exactly going to accomplish by that?”
“To unearth things about you and your situation.”
“And what on Earth do you wish to unearth?”
What a stupid sentence. “I still don’t have a clue, but I’m quite certain that if this goes on, I will. That’s why I refuse to leave.”
Atilla heaves an exasperated sigh, tilts her head, and watches me with easily detectable signs of doubt on her face. With a single step, I move to the right side of the bench, push her to the left side, and sit right beside her.
“May I ask why you took a sudden interest in me?” She queries with the word cynical written all over her small, cruel-looking face; her arms crossed, waiting for me to do anything, or tell all the wrong answers to her question. I mean, is there even a right answer at this point?
“You may not ask that.” The only right answer is no answers. “However, you CAN use my services; anything you want.”
“I want you to leave.”
“You can ask me anything, and I’ll do it.”
“LEAVE.” She yells, which would’ve gathered some unwanted attention had this place been more crowded.
“Just say the word, and I’ll do it; no questions asked.”
“What’s the point in saying the word when you just keep ignoring it?” At this point, she’s not mad anymore; she’s just genuinely curious.
“Sweeping that aside, how has your day been progressing?”
“Wait; isn’t that a Martin Mystery dialogue?”
I KNOW, RIGHT?
But I decided to ask that question since it seemed like the most normal to ask in that intensely awkward situation. I guess that’s why Will also asked the same thing with the same tone.
I don’t know how to keep a conversation going. How do people even talk?
“Why have you been avoiding me lately?”
“No reason. I was just using my right to remain silent.” It’s truly incredible how this girl still shamelessly uses the same excuse from four days ago.
“This is not an interrogation. It’s just a friendly heart-to-heart. You can tell me anything. You have the right to speak freely.”
“How democratic of you. Then this means I’m free to not speak as well, right?”
That would be problematic. “Well you’re not that free, but you’re virtually free to do anything as long as I allow it.”
“Your understanding of liberty is utterly whack.” She replies with an irritated sigh.
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