Glitch in the Universe

That's the thing about this city, you see, we were not meant to exist. We're a phenomenon that will soon be erased, just like the universe wills it.

I came to this revelation at, unfortunately, a young age, an age that should've still preserved that childish innocence that is an innate trait in all of us. It was, I remember, an ideally warm and bright day. The birds chirped their usual 5-note tune, and Mom had just set the table with a steaming stack of pancakes fresh from the griddle.

"Good morning, Phoenix," she greeted, untying her cartoonish pink apron from her waist.

"'Morning, Mom," I replied. I wiggled onto my chair with some assistance from Betsy whom Mom affectionately nicknamed as my "nanny dog,” and drooled with anticipation as she flooded my plate with golden syrup. I swirled one of my pancakes through the syrup until it was satisfyingly coated and devoured it with the tenacity of a starving pack of wolves.

Dad came down the stairs, fiddling with his striped tie as he went. He gave Mom one of those fleeting, casual smooches on the cheek and a head rub to me. “Man, I wish I had the time for some of those pancakes,” he moaned, and risked to bite one from my fork, in which I playfully batted his attempt away.

“You should wake up earlier then,” Mom retorted. “You’ll be able to make your own lunch too instead of having to bring one of those insta-ones.” 

“Heck no, Bubbles.” Dad wrinkled his nose. “I’d like to get my full night beauty sleep.” 

Mom laughed as he rushed out of the door. She then glanced down at her prized leather-strap watch. “And you, little man, need to hurry up if we don’t want to be late to school.” 

“Yes, Mom.” I shoveled down the last bit of crumb and grabbed my backpack by my side. Mom handed me my lunch box, no doubt containing a PB&J sandwich and a baggie of apple slices, and smothered me in a loving hug before herding me out the door. 

The walk to school was the same as ever: greet the elderly lady with that yapping pupper, avoid the dip in the sidewalk, and turn the corner. Then, follow the straight path right up to the school building. However, on that path, something we call “forbidden alleyways” line the outer edges: it is like the ocean; simplistic in appearance, as mysterious as its depths. It is an unspoken rule to never enter those alleyways. It’s like there’s an invisible barrier of self-ordinance. 

Yet, my former friend, Bobby, had entered those alleyways. He was the few rare ones that would never back out of a challenge so daring as that, and just like smoke, he disappeared into the darkness, his last words being that he would have made everyone at school buy him snacks when he made his triumphant return. He never did, and what was weirder was that even when he disappeared, no one even showed concern. In fact, there wasn’t a single search party for him. It was like he never existed. Everyone went about their day as usual: The burly florist rearranging some tulips, the orange cat rubbing against the tree, and the three street musicians playing a single happy tune. 

For some time, I continued to stare at the entrance of the alleyway, my feet refusing to budge. I must’ve been there for quite a while, because the first school bell had rung, and the gates had screeched closed. A single wind scurried out from the darkness and harshly pummeled against my face as if it was trying to push me back. 

Suddenly, a strange sensation crawled up my body. It was cold, yet it was also compelling. It squeezed my heart in an icy grip. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t feel my hands. I couldn’t even feel the moment my feet left the ground and guided me into the alleyway, shoving me cruelly against some sort of invisible barrier until I finally broke through and into the yawning darkness. 

The force continued to usher me down the pitch black path, the atmosphere heavy and sinister. My lungs screamed for air. My feet begged for me to stop. I couldn’t. I apologized over and over to myself for being unable to stop. At some point, I was moving without even moving. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t hear anything. I couldn’t feel anything. 

“Am I dead?” 

No. 

“What happened to me?” 

You’ve been wiped from existence. 

“Who’s there? Who are you?”

That is irrelevant.

“What do you mean? How? Why?” 

You no longer exist; past, present, and future. You never existed. The moment you left the boundaries, you ceased to exist. 

“But I’m real, I’m real!” 

No, you are not. No one was real.  

“I don’t understand.” 

Your life, your family, your city, it was never real, nor was it supposed to exist. It was simply a glitch in the universe. The moment you left the boundaries of your life, you left the safety of your city, and you were fixed. 

“...what will happen to everyone...in my city?” 

The universe is still working to fix the glitch, given how annoying it continues to multiply. Exceptions like you are just early fixes. 

“...why are you telling me this? Shouldn’t I be dead now?” 

Not dead. You don’t exist anymore. You never had a life where you can determine birth and death. To answer your question, it is simply because I felt like it. There’s not a lot of beings to talk to out here. 

“But...what about Bobby?”

Bobby? 

“My friend. He too left the boundaries.” 

How long ago? 

“A few weeks ago, at least, in my city.” 

Then he’s already gone. As will you, soon.

“What?” 

You are simply lingering on a bit longer, but soon your consciousness will fade away, just like the rest of you. 

“No...no, please! I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die!” 

You’ve never died. Now, goodbye, young one.

"No…"

"…"

...