Happy Fool
There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power of our will. ~Epictetus
#01 Optimistic
Happiness was a feeling of overwhelming joy, so overwhelming that it made your lips purse into a pretty curve. Happy was what they would describe him to be, seeing his beaming smile and cheerful laugh. Yet, they were not really sure of the reason he smiled as he was practically residing in a living hell. There was this very precise cleanliness that spooked the visitors with the perfect white walls that seemed to sweep a person's mind into a buzzy, numb mess.
It was more due to the scent of morphine and drugs in the air than the whiteness that sent a person into panic attack. One could never like such a place since here was where most partings occurred, where families lost their loved ones and where regrets happened, more often than one would have preferred. That was why they could not put a finger on him. A young boy who found every reason to smile and laugh even when his days were numbered, slowly but steadily depleting.
"That's all for today. You did a good job! Just give it some more time I am sure you will get back on your feet!" The doctor's encouraging voice settled down in every corner of the wad, eliciting an excited giggle from the pale boy. On the doctor's youthful face was an unreadable expression. His voice however held no hesitation.
As soon as the heavy footsteps of the doctor faded in the distance, the boy turned back to his task. Picking up a random crayon, he added more colour onto the white canvas, capturing the essence of a beautiful butterfly he saw earlier that day. It was huge, wings painted with rainbow of colourful hue. To him, it was down to earth pretty.
"No news?" The voice was muffled well but not well enough to be soundproofed. He knew what would follow after. He always knew. A sigh, weary and tired, was as depressing as the grey sky but he would not let it pull his spirit down. He could almost imagine the shaking of head as well as the pitiful glances the nurses sent. He shrugged.
Now, where was the red colour?
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#02 Storytelling
"…that's a good story!" He exclaimed to the teen sitting across of her. The teen had a disbelief look on his face and he snorted.
"Which part of that is good?" He questioned, thinking that the sick child had lacked common sense. "The bird died eventually, alone in that cage. What makes that a good story anyway?"
He didn't answer for a moment there as he seemed to think over deeply, tilting his head as he furrowed his brows together before a smile spread through his face. "It is free, that's why! It can finally return back to the sky it so desired. Even when its body rotted away, its soul is forever freed. What it saw and longed after will not fade, even in death. That's why it is a good story because the bird can finally chase after its dream without the cage hindering."
"You're a good storyteller!"
By now, the teen was sighing, ignoring the odd fact that his cheeks were burning. No one had complimented him before. For a lowborn like him, praises were not common, at all. Instead, he welcomed curses and hits as if greeting an old friend. He couldn't help the smirk that had worked its way to his lips as he playfully retorted, "and you are an idiot."
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#03 Painting
"Oi," the teen called, sneaking into the hospital wad lightly. "Umm, still asleep, huh?"
His eyes wandered from the still sleeping form of the young male to the art supplies beside the bed. They were scattered, probably because their owner had so carelessly left them so. He bent down and picked them out one by one, calling out each colour as if revising the words so painstakingly taught by the youth beside him. It took him the whole morning to get the word 'red' out. Fondly, he chuckled at the memory while staying down at the said colour.
"And you are red."
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#04 Freedom
He was almost done gathering the crayons when he spotted a piece of paper resting on the table. Unlike the carelessly strewed tools, it was neatly stacked and pinned to avoid being carried away by wind.
He picked it up, more out of curiosity than care. What he saw stunned him and he breathed out, staring back at the sleeping figure. "What an idiot…"
A bird with its wings spread would not ever being chained down. Therefore, it flew, higher and soared, braver than any other birds, leaving only a single feather as the proof of life in that cold, metal cage.
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#05 Memory
The slum was burning. Everything was set aflame. The air held a choking and disturbing scent of burning flesh while screams for help were as clear as day. That was what he last remembered, his home, his family, everything was gone in one single fire. He was alone.
Robbing and thieving became some sort of routine for him. Cutting down someone meant nothing if it could bring food to his plate. That was all that mattered. He had always thought that way, until he was proven wrong.
That day, he remembered, was raining. Luck was not on his side when he slipped and hurt his ankle in the middle of dodging the police. Well, he might have started the day off bad because he had happened to rob from a rich bastard. And that rich bastard happened to be some well off noble. So, that led to a cat and mouse game in the streets of the pouring town. Worse, he had a bad omen that the game was soon to end.
His assumption had proven to be right off the bat as he slammed into someone. His back connected to the hard, wet and downright cold ground and his world spun. Rambling random curses, he was harshly shoved to the floor. He bit back an insult when he felt his arm being jerked to an inhuman angle and a scream of pain escaped him.
This was the end of him. Before he could make out any dramatic ending lines, the pressure on him was suddenly released. He was still too confused to move when he heard a kind voice declared. "Poor child, I'll take care of him. If you gentlemen will be so kind to live the kid, here take this."
It left a bitter feeling within him when he noticed that he had been rescued by a noble. A NOBLE! However, the man before him acted nothing like a noble. He seemed kind enough with his brows strangely knitted in unspoken anxiety.
"Now, how will you repay me?" He took back his opinion on the noble. He was a JERK.
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#06 Meeting
He found himself in an awkward position as a pair of big, childish blue eyes stared back at him. Apparently, the noble thought that it would be best for his beloved, ailing son to have someone his age as a friend. Another reason why he hated nobles. They were unpredictable. I meant, who would pick random street rat as friend for their children?
"What?" He asked, grumpy but with feigned patience. Those eyes were creeping the hell out of him and he wanted nothing but for them to back off. The boy did nothing but smile. A rather pleasant scene that had the teen stunned. For that moment onwards, he knew he was going to be stuck with the child, whether he liked it or not.
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#07 News
He had never been good with lies. When the teen saw him that afternoon, wearing a mask of indifferent, he knew immediately that something was horribly wrong.
"What's it that you have been hiding?" The teen's voice was harsh, showing that he wasn't that good with beating around the bushes.
"Nothing." The child would say but after engaging in another staring contest, he gave up. "The doctor said that I'll probably go blind soon."
Those words held so little sadness but instead contained more of the cheeky tone, just like…just like how the child was. When the younger asked whether it was scary not to see, he couldn't answer.
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#08 Sightseeing
He sneaked him out one night when the sick child said that he wanted to see the night beach. It was not that far away so he complied, not before throwing complaints though. Giving the patient a piggy ride, he laughed to himself as he heard the child squeaking at the feeling of cool air on their face.
The air around the salty water was humid as usual. It was only until they got to the refreshing water, he let the boy down. With such rare chance to venture outside, the boy cheered and greedily inhaled the night air. At that moment, every manner and etiquette was thrown out of the window. He laughed, cheered, splashed and danced.
He felt complete.
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#09 Unexpected
When the morning came, he came to visit the child again. As soon as he stepped within the protective barrier of the hospital, he knew that something was off. The air was tenser and the implication hung heavily across the corridors that led to his room.
He approached the wad, alerted when he saw the door wide open. He heard the scuffling of clothes and something more. Something he wanted to deny wholeheartedly. A long, shrieking beeping noise that tore at him and he wished that it was his imagination. It was not.
He saw him, frail and pale but his lips were prettily curved upwards as if dreaming a peaceful dream. Within the grasp of his thinning hands was a paintbrush with its tips still blue from the canvas. What prompted him to move forward with his legs quivering and voice struggling to get out? He snapped his mouth shut, silencing himself before a pained croak left his throat that felt hard with lump.
The boy still smelt of the sea and night. A proof that last night was neither a dream nor a lie. He finally broke down when he saw the paper besides the bed because it was a picture of a pair of children, holding hands under the moonlit night with the constant wave beneath their feet. A perfectly captured scenery of the night beach where they strolled without a care for the world.
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#10 Truth
He gathered his things after the episode. It was hard to believe that his friend was gone, especially when he was just smiling and laughing by his side a few hours ago.
"Thanks…for everything," he uttered to the nurse that had been looking after him since he had first met the boy. The nurse smiled albeit a tad saddened.
"I am sorry for what had happened. It is so unexpected and we're at a loss of word when he suddenly passed."
He rose up his hand to halt her from continuing as he felt a sharp stab of pain overcoming him. The nurse nodded in understanding. "I hope he is happy."
"I think he is," the teen said, looking up at the clear blue sky. "He had after all been able to see the beach he had loved so much after all this time."
"Huh?" The nurse sounded before realization dawned on her. He noticed the way the nurse seemed to fidget. Being as straightforward as he was, he asked what exactly was wrong.
"But that can't be…he has been blind since last week."
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# Epilogue
"You are an idiot."
Perhaps, he was. He chuckled when he recalled those words and added the final stroke on the painting.
But, he was a happy idiot.
Haha, I'm leaving out the name on purpose but it shouldn't be hard to guess. Anyway, I have been absent for too long to my liking because of some...unpleasant delay. Hopefully, I'll be able to write again soon.
Signed,
ReneeNCC