Soul for Success

I love myself.

At least, that's what I used to think. I wanted to be an artist. And I'm good at it. I had so much to love myself for. Until... well, people insulted me for being an author. And now? Now, I don't even know. So much happened in the past, like, what? Twenty minutes?

My hand is trembling and I can feel it sweating as my fingers hover over the message.

How did I get here?—It was just twenty minutes ago. I was clearing all my new messages and reviewing the old emails I had sent to my teachers.

Amongst the list, one email stood out. It was sent to me two years ago.

How had I never noticed it?

It's the 20th of September, 2024, today.

The date of this message...

Date: 20th of September, 2022.

From: ME

To: ME

There's a recording attached. I don't know why I'm panicking so much. I don't know whether it's because I don't remember sending myself a voicemail over two years ago.

I'm overthinking. I sigh.

Grow up.

I remind myself and then click the voicemail.

"Rose! You have to listen to me, you're me! Whatever it is, GET OFF that train!"

My heart suddenly beats so fast, that I freeze. Time suddenly felt slow and I could feel the blood rush out of me. I feel numb, and my fingers are trembling so much.

This is my voice. This is unmistakably my voice. And I am in a goddamn train.

It's okay, Rose. I try to calm myself down. Think.

This is the last stop. Oh, good. The blood pounded in my ears. My heart thudded in my chest. My hands shook. My vision was disfigured as if I were looking through a fish-eye lens. I had to get away. My grip over my phone got tighter, and I struggled to shove it in my bag, as I aggressively zip it.

I'm getting such an emotional overload. I don't think there's even a word for it, its like a feeling of nostalgia, where something hits and you remember a trauma you do not want to, as in you get reminded of it but you can't replay the memory in your head, because it's all hazy and blurry, the kind of feeling where someone says something that breaks all your borders and your in a state of anger, confusion, concern, and nostalgia in a state where you're frozen between shrugging it off and crying, like the type where your at a train station and wave your friend goodbye, and then you witness the train get in an accident and your hair sways in the wind while you witness the blood of everyone while a calm orchestra plays in the background, and a familiar smell of burning paper comes to you, and you're in a state of "I don't know what to do", where you're trying to process everything and you feel a vintage smell and hear a vintage orchestra that gives autumn, breezy evenings.

The train slowly halts to a stop. I'm the only one on the train who stayed till the last stop. I grab my purse and bolt like I'm guilty of crime.

I'm breathing heavily, and the pain and tight feeling in my chest slowly eases as I exited the train, and the doors slowly slide close. I sigh—a sigh of relief.

I'm stand still, my mind still going to the voice message. Maybe it was just a coincidence. It takes me a full two minutes to start walking. The moment I do, I realise something's wrong. Not something in particular—everything looks wrong. It's like my vision is an image made out of sand, because suddenly everything starts to wither, like a black rose's petals slowly tearing apart, and swaying in the direction of the wind.

I don't even know what happened next. Maybe the ground swalled me up or something, because I remember a force pulling my body towards the ground.

I wake up with a jolt, my eyes snapping open. I'm in a complete new place; I'm in a small room. There is a singular light at the ceiling, which flickers every ten seconds or so. There's no windows, the room is pretty dark. The very idea of claustrophobic.

But the horror of it, isn't the fact that it's small and claustrophobic. It's not even the fact that there's a singular light that flickers all the time.

It's the fact that there's some abnormal skinbag of a dark entity that's just increasing in size over the second, looming over me. It's a monster wearing a big cloak with a hood obviously bigger than itself, and the hood casts a shadow over it's face, and it seems like it's levitating, but the cloak drapes some of the floor, too, so I can't tell.

I have no idea how I'm absorbing all this details. If anything, I'm literally crawling away, inching away as far as I can. My throat tightens, and I have lost my voice.

But what catches me by surprise is the friendly tone. "Rose, hello! I have been expecting you."

I have no idea how I'm not apologizing or running away at this point. "You have?"

"Yes... unfortunately you have forgotten. Let me remind you." He—or she? touches my temples, and then I feel myself thud to the ground, and maybe my soul (or whatever) slips out or something, like in those Avengers movies and stuff, because before I know it, I'm taken in two years.

I know that I'm taken two years ago, because I see myself, from two years ago.

Gosh, did I always look this bad?

But then I finally absorb what I'm seeing. It's myself, talking to the "abnormal friendly skinbag".

"I want to make a trade." Past me says.

I almost lose my soul.

I WANTED TO MAKE A TRADE?! DID I SELL MY KIDNEY OR SOMETHING?!

"I want to trade my soul for success"

WHAT.

I have no idea what expression is washed over my face right now, but I have a feeling my skin has paled to shade very close to a blueberry. My hands are trembling before I realise it. I'm sweating, and breathing like I've run a mile.

"But you owe me." Skinbag-guy says.

"Of course, I shall trade my soul in two years."

My eyes widen. Wait, so this is why I was called here. Why I was supposed to leave the train. Past me was trying to get me off that train, so I don't trade my soul.

Too late for that, I guess.

"But I am erasing your memory of this."

The problem is, this makes a lot of sense.

I was basically socially non existent. The teachers would forget about me until they saw my name on the exam paper.

But since two years ago... I got a random burst of popularity after summer break. Before I knew it, I was the most "crushable" and preferred in school, chosen as student council member, probably out of bias, and the topper in class.

Everything falls into place.

Good grief. When exactly am I losing my soul?

More importantly, what will happen when I lose my soul?

I pinch myself to find out this was real. Over the pain, I was surprised that this is a memory and I wasn't like a ghost, transparent to myself, but I actually felt it.

I find my phone in my pocket. I immediately shove it out, my hands trembling and sweating. I send a trembling voicemail to myself.

"Rose! You have to listen to me, you're me! Whatever it is, GET OFF that train!"

Suddenly everything about the voicemail clicks into place, but before I get to gasp, the memory fades away like sand, and I'm back to the claustrophobic, small room.

"I owe you my soul." I'm staring at my hands. I didn't even get to process it proper enough, and I feel like my entire vision is turning blurry.

No, it isn't. It's turning watery.

I sniff and swipe at my eyes, but the emotion overload is about as bad as in the train. The same emotion of overload of a vintage dance vibe but with blood all over my hands. The same, weird, unexplainable feeling.

"Yes." He/she confirms. But from the deep tone in the voice, I can say it's a he.

"What will happen to me?" I say tearfully.

"No, my dear, you won't die. Death would be too kind. You'll live, but without a soul, you will lose your ability to feel human emotions. You will become an empty shell of yourself, wandering through the world without any purpose, without any sense of attachment or connection. You will be a ghost, drifting through time, eternally alone and detached."

He leads me to the middle of the room, and for some reason I find my legs walking, following him. Before I know it, skinbag guy does some weird magic spells or something, then a white, small light shaped in a star forms out, and the moment I see it, I lose all emotions. I feel like all the colours are all lost out of me. I don't care though. I slowly touch the star in his hands, and then all the colour rushes back into me.

What is this?

Why am I-

And then I pull away, and then the colour drains out again. Suddenly, I realise the moment he had pulled that star out of me, the entire room is filled with mirrors. Each mirror holds a memory, even memories I forgot from when I was young.

I slowly touch the memory of me telling the skinbag that I'll trade my soul. Was I that ugly and stupid?

I find my hand going through the mirror. I'm shocked.

Wait. Can I... go through the memory?

Wait. I can change this.

I can do this.

I slowly let go of the star to put my entire body through the big mirror. The moment I let go of the star, I get flooded with thoughts.

Why did I do that. I didn't need it. I'm fine like this. Ugh.

I turn around. The mirror is gone.

GREAT.

I see myself from the corner of my eye, behind me. There's no motivation in me to go after her. What's going to happen will happen, somehow. I slowly grab a random lamppost nearby, and start swinging myself, bored.

The moment I touch the lamppost, I feel a rush of colour into me, just a little bit, but it's enough. I feel my heart thumping so hard suddenly.

Is this how empty some people felt?

Suddenly, I see myself walk by me. I quickly grab her by her mouth and drag her back. Past me tries to scream, but it's all muffled.

"Shut up." I snap, and drag her a bit back, but now that I'm touching her, I feel more than just a little splashes of colour. I feel all my memories. I feel me.

"Listen to me!" I yell, and I pull her away from the narrow alley in the corner. "I am trying to save you!"

She yells more, muffled. I slowly let go of her mouth, but my elbows are still locking with her arms.

"You don't get it, do you?" She yells tearfully. "I have nothing. In school, at home. I'm non existent. I got an offer. Online. I can get it. I don't know what I'm going to sacrifice for it, but I want to be seen. You don't get it! SO SHUT UP!"

I go silent. This was true. I was treated like this. As I stand there, feeling utterly powerless and defeated, the entity's words echo in my mind. All my success, all my achievements, it seems like they're all for naught given that I'll soon be without a soul. It feels like my entire life's work is meaningless, and the possibility that everything I've done might fade into oblivion is a bitter pill to swallow. I begin to feel my eyes start to water, tears prickling at the corners. Then, suddenly, a thought occurs to me. It might seem like losing my soul is the end of the world, but life is more than just popularity and success. I could explain this all to her, but she has to learn it herself. "I care about you." I finally say. "Not everyone will see your worth. But you need to. And I'm saying that you're kind, thoughtful, funny and smart." Half of this wasn't true, but she did have other good qualities which I couldn't remember. Who can remember their good qualities from two years ago?

The moment I said this, the ground seems the open up, swallow me in, everything fades away as I keep falling, like sand, withering away.

My eyes slowly flutter open. My head is leaned on the train window, and the evening sunlight pours onto my cheeks, the sky painted with strokes of amber and pink. I slowly pull out my phone from my purse, and check the voicemail. The date stays the same. I click on the recording.

"Rose. You did it. We did it. Never trade your soul for success. You matter. Maybe you have flaws- oops I can't lie! But we all just feel powerless because when we have a talent, people don't have it. So they try to take it away from us. By calling the talent names. You wanted to be an artist, right? Go get it."