TW: mental illness
As a child, I always used to be in a special atmosphere. No matter if I was at school, home, or any other place, my parents would always over protect me. And there was no literal reason.
Once when I went to a restaurant, as a 6-year-old child, my mother held my hand tightly, so that I wouldn’t astray from her. My parents would make me sit in their middle, so that people won’t see my presence. They won’t mock me, or talk about how I look, talk, or behave.
I always felt vigorously weird.
Then, when I started middle school, my parents specially talked with the teacher to keep me away from bullies and awkward children.
The only one reason, behind this everything, was never known to me.
Once, I was overly bored, so as a child, I wanted to go play in the open fresh air. So I asked my mother to let me go play just for a short time, beside the river bank in our neighborhood. Gladly, she agreed but warned me to look for strangers and stay away from our neighbors. No, they weren’t bad. The bad, awkwardly behaved ones, were my parents.
After that, my luck got good. I was permitted to play alone first time in my whole life.
I picked my football up, and went running, straightaway to the river bank side.
I played for three or four minutes, after which I got bored again and sat down.
The grass was fresh, green, and soft. I moved my hands on it, then spread my arms and legs in the air, straight.
When I got up, and decided to go back home, so my mother won’t suspect me for lying. I turned back, and suddenly, my ball fell down aside the river. I got anxious.
The distance from the road to the river side was amazingly big for a 10-year-old like me. Or perhaps not. But due to my body condition, even a short hill would look tall to me. I overheard this, when one time my parents were discussing my ‘mental health’.
And one time, when I misheard my teachers discussing and talking how ‘mentally retarded’ I am.
Anyways, I got scared so I left the ball alone to where it was.
But when I started to walk back home, mysteriously, the ball came and stopped backwards to my foot. I was scared.
Why? How did it come back?
The next moment I turned back, I could clearly see a young figure, the same age as me, or maybe younger than me, was standing.
I went closer to examine more.
I saw, his eyes were dazzling in light grey color. His hairs, lightly flowing along the soft breeze, pretty light blonde. I was mesmerized to see such a beauty. But I never heard of such a child being my neighbor.
I, absent mindedly, went closer and touched his hairs. So smooth, they were as if I were touching a heavenly pigeon’s.
I slowly opened my mouth, asking in a soft tone, “Who are you…?”
He wouldn’t answer. I stopped.
My mother came running, in a loud yelling voice, she called out my name.
I anxiously turned back and saw her huffing figure.
“Mother.” My face turned sad.
She hurriedly, hugged me tightly. I turned breathless. I tried to get free from her strong embrace.
“Stop… I can’t breathe...”
She let go of me. I quickly turned forward to see him. He wasn’t there anymore.
Was it a miracle? Or a mystery?
My mother looked at my worried expression.
“What’s wrong, son?” she asked anxiously.
I tilted my head down, and answered, as I looked innocent. “A boy… there was a boy who helped me take my ball from the river. I have to thank him!”
She hugged me. I couldn’t see, but felt that she was crying.
Why was she crying? No reason that I know.
After that incident, I could never go outside alone ever again. It was a short isolation.
They would never let me know why they would such. Thus, I never asked either.
When I became a high school student, I made my way into a normal school, with normal studies. My parents wished me to go to an elite school, but I refused. They were even keen on keeping a personal assistant for me, who would even follow me to school, but I shook my head thrice.
I refused their every extravagant.
I wanted to live normal, for just once.
I never got to make friends, also because of my parent’s
awkwardness. But when I became a university student, I was free.
My parents had an emergency to go abroad for work. I could live freely; go where ever I want. Either bars or malls.
One day, after I returned home, my parents called me. They asked me for how was my living going and if I’m having any troubles. I said, no, no to everything.
I ate dinner, then went to bed. I couldn’t sleep. It was summer vacations starting from tomorrow. I was happy, but more like, anxious to what to do next day.
I stood up and went to my window. Everything was dark outside.
Suddenly, I saw the light pole blink. Then the light started to flicker.
Only then, I started to feel fear. The fear of something mysteriously adjacent. I crawled back to my bed.
Next, I heard door knocking. First, it was simple knock, then it turned into strong, fast knocking.
My head was full of fear. I was so scared that I froze inside my blanket.
The knocking kept on. I was scared, but exhausted of the knocking. I abruptly, went on and opened the door in anger.
“Who is it?!” my voice, angry, yet scared.
At first, no one was there. Then, when I came outside, I saw a familiar figure, sitting beside the wall of my room.
He wasn’t smiling, there was no expression. His eyes were closed.
He mysteriously turned to me and talked. I could finally hear his voice. My brain reminded me of my childhood memory; the boy who helped me. He’s the one who picked my ball for me. Who saved me from those bullies.
Back then, when I was a middle school student, even after the teachers’ warning, there were still many who stood up to bully me. They used to steal my lunch, hide my stationary, or pull and slide up my bag after school. It was disgusting and hard for me. I wanted to get away.
Then one day, the same boy came and took out his iron sword. He swiped it and swung it around the bullies. They couldn’t see him or the sword. They didn’t die, but tripped off and went away running, crying.
I wanted to thank him, but when I got out of my arms, I saw there was no one.
At every hard time, he saved me. I would wonder where he went and why did he never talk to me?
Now, I can finally hear the words, the voice of my savior, my hero, and my knight, who always used to carry his iron sword to swish away evil from me.
I examined him thoroughly. Back then, I wasn’t that knowledgeable, so I didn’t know it. When I lowered my hand towards him for him to get up, he couldn’t see my hand there. He even looked at the wrong way, when I stood in front of him. Then, I understood. That he’s blind. He was blind which was why, he couldn’t see me or my hand. But he was so good at his sword fighting, that it was hard to believe.
He stood up, and bent down like a loyal servant to a king. Then he said, “I will protect you, my lord.”
My expression was all shocked, inspired, and… unbelievable. I couldn’t get what he said.
“What?” I surprisingly questioned.
“My King, I’ll always protect you. I’ll always fight for you. No matter evil strong or weak, if I’m able to or not, I’ll always be around you, fight and sweep away disgust, hatred, and evil around you.”
I couldn’t apprehend anymore. I couldn’t control my heart, which was beating unstoppably. My legs lost the vitality; I slowly, fell down on my knees.
My face was the same, but my eyes… I couldn’t stop tears starting to drip from my eyes. My eyes got watery that I could not see. I hid my face. It was embarrassing. I didn’t want my favorite person to see it.
He came over and removed my hands from my face.
Then he kissed my hand and said while holding it, “My King, do not worry, I’m here and will always be.”
I clenched my lips and cried earnestly.
The boy hugged me and said, “You’re my king. And my king isn’t allowed to cry in his beloved knight’s embrace.”
He smiled, but I couldn’t see. I couldn’t see his pretty smile. If his blind eyes and face were so beautiful, then how much would his smiling face be?
I thought and thought, but kept on crying.
I felt the boy rubbing my head. Even though he was younger than me, he still loved me as an elder.
Then after a while, I took him inside my room. We sat beside to each other. He was still holding my hand. He tilted his head up and said, “My king, who is it that made you depressed?”
I couldn’t answer. I shook my head and kept quiet.
He rubbed my head again.
It turned out to be a mystery. I remembered my past, out of abnormality.
Now if I assembled all the parts, I could get the final outcome. The answer to everything. To my life.
From when I was born, I had a mental illness. Even now, I don’t know what it is. My parents never told me. They kept everything which pointed towards my mental illness, away from me. Likewise, for why they never let me have friends or visit my neighbors.
Then after a few years, when I turned 18, I treated my illness from an elite hospital. The doctors informed me that I was a patient of a mental disease called, Schizophrenia. And the source was from my family lineage.
I couldn’t get rid of it forever, but could prevent it.
It was all that after 5 years of my treatment, I gradually recovered. But the saddest thing was that even if I can prevent it, if I ever stop, these symptoms can return and get even more worse, so better if I keep them in control.
I learned that a brain illness can be never cured. And that, to a mentally ill person, never do say anything regarding their illness.
So I understood why my family kept it a secret from me. But for now, I don’t have to anymore. Because I have a person who cares for me. He understood my disease. And that he was one that was created by me, by myself.
I never had any friends, I couldn’t open up to anyone. So my brain made a person just for myself without me ever knowing.
He was my beloved creation. A person just for myself. And a bond that can’t be broken by anyone, not even by me.
He was everything for me. He was my family, my elder brother, my best friend, and my beloved.