Memories of my being in a mental ward surfaced in ways I did not want to remember.
My elder brother was kinder than myself.
Our father wasn’t always like this, you know.
I’m not sure where exactly it began to go downhill, but there was a time where he’d play with us, joke with us, love us.
He got demoted in his own company.
Lost money.
It was a shock to all of us when one day he snapped and unbuckled his belt, whipping it and aiming it towards my mother.
At my lack of response, Oliver frowned.
Right.
There must be some love in my father’s heart, for he had never beaten me or Levi.
But that won’t change the fact that he’s a devil in human clothes, akin to Archie.
He took care of us despite his abuse to our mother.
Though, he had become grumpier then, and less kinder with his words.
Our father would leave me and Levi food to reheat once we went home.
Oliver turned away and sat on the four-wheeled chair once again.
I thought he wanted us to feel comfortable in our own home, but it did not make me feel that way. Not at all.
Have you ever seen the good things in a person, but looked away anyways?
Right then, in front of Oliver who held the laptop I received one day in front of me, I had never felt more homesick towards a home that did not welcome me.
As my parents argued in the background, I went upstairs to find my brother. I was sixteen then.
The horror I felt when I watched him hang from the ceiling, below him a chair he had kicked away.
It was the same year when my father came home one day and claimed that my mother’s, who had cancer, life support had failed.
More than anything, I was sure he had lied.
That day, he told me to study efficiently.
The words he said were that "cheaters never win."
And so, ever-naive, I followed through.
I studied harder, and my social life worsened.
I was seventeen when I attempted to get into a nearby but highly renowned university.
Cheaters never win.
The words of my father reverberated in my mind like the vibration of a trumpet as I eyed a luxurious older man leaving an even more luxurious sports car.
The older man hugged a now-student of said university who wore fine-tailored suits.
By the way, I was valedictorian at my previous school.
That wasn’t enough, it seemed.
You know, I got really depressed after that.
Everything in my life all seemed to go wrong.
I tried to be strong, mom.
Even after all the words you said to me, I was unable to live up to your expectations.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
The words of my mother echoed in my mind.
But, mom, what if I’d rather die?
I was so afraid of that feeling, you know, loss.
I didn’t trust myself.
I was afraid that even I tried hard enough, tried my best, and eventually finish the rounds, I would still be alone
In the end, I am still that timid and asocial youth long ago.
When people began praising me, my first thought was awaiting when they’d lose interest in me, when they’d be disappointed.
The truth is as follows: you could hug me and apologize for whatever you’ve done to me one day and I’d still internally despise you.
That’s the kind of person I am.
Oh, and my father is an asshole.
But my brother...oh, Levi.
I would forgive him in a thousand lifetimes even though if it wasn’t for him I would have never felt loss, tragedy, and the like.
I knew him by his aura and presence—I could sense he was around me from far away.
I never experienced that feeling since he had passed.
But, right then, I had a feeling he was with me.
It was a pitiful feeling but I needed him right now more than anything.
Even if it was placebo or false longing.
Levi, are you there? Teach me how to be a normal human.
I attempted to recall his face and appearance.
He was a jock so we worked out a lot, hence his broad shoulders. Quite unlike me who only began working out after I had stopped writing Imperfect Knight, for it resulted in me having more time.
Levi was around one hundred and eighty centimeters while, and, in his last moments, I was only one hundred and sixty.
Interrupt my dreamless slumber and be with me for even a moment.
I had multiple invisible scars from my past.
I collected them since it was proof of my offenses.
If I didn’t have evidence of my wrongdoings, of my sins, then what good was my existence for?
But the biggest scar of them all was the existence of Imperfections of a Knight.
All of my struggles and pain, I vented in that novel.
It was practically mine and no longer Levi’s, though he did own the premise.
The day I stopped writing Imperfect Knight, I had lost all my life’s essence.
While I had refused and even loathed them, I understood now why people went to psychiatrists.
I had shoplifted, injured people, and now killed an infant.
My biggest sin of all was writing Imperfect Knight.
No, that’s not true.
That meant that Levi was also at fault.
That’s wrong.
My very existence was sinful.
Therefore, if ever I will die, I intend to deserve it.
The truth was in front of me, that Levi could have pulled off Imperfect Knight better than I would have ever done.
In the end, all this pain I felt was created by nobody but me.
I miss you, Levi. I hope more than anything that you’re in a better place now.
Oliver spun around, laptop on his lap, and began to dictate:
"It was halfway through the third day since the advent of the rounds when Benedict had participated in his first round on earth..."
I punish myself my whole life, my whole life I punish.