Get Born Again

WORD COUNT: 2,715

NOTE: I chose "Get Born Again" as the title because it seemed fitting, and it was also the name of an AiC song. Alternative titles I brainstormed were "T-Minus Eighteen Years" (which seemed a little too sci-fi) and "Man in the Box" (also an AiC song, but since the story revolves around escape and a fresh start, I settled with "Get Born Again").

This is my second short story ever, so while I wouldn't mind winning the contest, I'm only submitting for the chance of receiving feedback and improving my writing.

TW: mental health, childhood trauma

[START HERE]

A new dawn. Another Groundhog Day... or is it the last?

Liam Kerr lies awake in his bed; he didn’t get any sleep last night, his mind in overdrive, thinking about anything and everything. His heart relentlessly banged against the walls of flesh and bone that contained it, beating at a million miles a minute. This is it. Memories of his life flashed inside his head -- memories of isolation, regret and a lifetime of internal turmoil that only further strengthened his resolve.

It was the morning of his eighteenth birthday. Liam had been silently plotting his escape for months. He knew that his parents would play nice today. They always do. How can they pretend that nothing has happened? Why are they trying to be nice NOW? Because they’re old, weak and miserable, and they want me as their slave? Their caretaker?

Despite everything, he couldn’t bring himself to hate them. Wayne, his father, had also been a victim of his own past; while it didn’t excuse what his father had done, Liam couldn’t help but feel the slightest inkling of sympathy for Wayne. He didn’t exactly have the best reference for a father figure, and his problems were only further exacerbated by the time he grew up in. Maybe this IS his way of trying to be better. A lousy attempt, but maybe he actually cares about me in his own broken way?

Liam could hear the sounds of his parents mumbling in the living room. He knew he had to face them again, hopefully for the last time in forever. After today, there would be no more hiding. No more pretending that everything is perfectly fine. No more nothingness... emptiness. He took a few minutes to psych himself up to get out of bed. To face the family that brought him into this world, only to break him. Liam scanned his bedroom one last time before getting up, observing its blank walls. Reluctantly, he sluggishly crawled out of the warm embrace of his bed to get ready, only to be met by the coldness of his parents’ house.

As he went through his morning routine, the plan replayed in his head over and over again. He reflected on the years of hard work that led to this moment. He knew he had to bide his time. Until he turned eighteen, he couldn’t go anywhere. He had no license, and they lived in the middle of nowhere. Nobody was coming to save him, so he could only save himself.

Before today, he was stuck, and if he tried to run away, his parents could have easily called the police and had him dragged back into his cage, only for his torment to be renewed with even greater intensity. But today was the day, and if he remembered correctly, his parents were leaving tonight. Perfect.

The sound of footsteps grew louder as his parents walked through the hallway. Liam forcefully spat the toothpaste into the sink and hastily turned the tap on, recalling the countless times he was given the most condescending explanations about things he already knew how to do. He had to teach himself everything: tying his own shoes, shaving... he nearly taught himself how to wipe. Every time he was judged for seemingly miniscule things like the way he walked, the way he ate... even the way he existed.

But now? Now wasn’t the time for reflection. Liam put on the poker face he’d refined over a lifetime, then emerged from the bathroom, ready for war. The very second he came out, his father called out.

“Finally decided to get out of bed?”

“Happy birthday, son,” his mother added, producing a sleek, rounded, metallic black rectangle from her pocket; a new phone.

All Liam could do was stare at it. I didn’t ask for this. Are they trying to buy me? Why are they doing this? Why now? Despite his countless warnings to his parents, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Ungrateful. He felt selfish, even though he told his parents many times that he didn’t want anything for his birthday; all he wanted was a normal day.

Still, he forced out a response. “Come on... this is too much... you didn’t have to...”

“Don’t be silly. We’re your parents. We love you...”

Liam’s mum wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a brief hug. Liam tensed up slightly at the contact; while he had managed to somewhat repair relations with his mother, something about this still felt distant. Yes, she tried her best, and she was the one who did nearly everything around the house. But while Liam knew that intellectually, there was still the lingering feeling of being alone for all those years.

After his mum pulls away, Wayne reaches out and attempts to hold his son. Liam takes an instinctual step back, but Wayne persists and manages to grab hold of Liam. The same arms that held him over a burning barrel for making a simple comment. The same hands that struck him for even the most minor of infractions, like spilling a drink or daring to have an opinion, or a personality. Or feelings. Liam pushes him away and immediately regrets it. He’s younger, larger and stronger than his dad, but for a moment, the same shy, timid little boy he was surfaces inside of him.

“Why won’t you let me go near you? Do you hate me?”

Wayne turns to Liam’s mother. “I think he hates me...”

She chuckles slightly and gives Liam a tired look, her expression saying the quiet parts out loud. “There he goes again...” Everyone goes silent.

Despite everything, Liam couldn’t help but feel bad for Wayne, seeing his father in such a state; an old, broken man getting more and more frail by the day.

Sensing that the confrontation has come to an end, Liam turns to leave, hesitantly taking the phone out of his mum’s hands, mustering the energy to mutter a small “thank you”. “We’re going out at around 6:00, by the way. You can transfer all your stuff over to the new phone if you want.” Liam gives them a nod before returning to his room.

Hours pass. Liam waits in standby, recharging from the previous encounter and getting ready for the next phase of his plan. He starts to think deeply as to why he’s doing this. They’re being nice now. Why do I still want to go so badly? They gave him gifts. They hugged him. Was he overreacting? Did it even happen at all?

But then he remembers. Sure, he wants to get away from them. He wants to get away from everyone. Live his own life on his own terms. He wants FREEDOM. But more than anything, he just wants to live a normal life. For the past couple years, Liam had been slowly financing his escape on commission work, honing his skills in several digital disciplines such as 3D modelling, game development and writing, though his main source of income came from his music.

It wasn’t just money: it was an outlet. He wasn’t particularly great at any of these things, but he always loved creating new worlds, just like what he does in his head. A world where he lived a life worth living. A life that didn’t sap his will to live. He knew he’d never again experience the innocence he briefly had when he was younger -- back when he could sink weeks into writing the dumbest, most over-the-top stories ever conceived. Back when he’d spend his free time at school building cute cubby houses. His own little towns, complete with walls, a moat, huts... even a gladiator ring.

But he could move forward. He could find a place to stay for a few weeks while he found a job. Any job would do. It wouldn’t matter if he was mopping floors or flipping burgers. He’d keep hustling. Keep working on commissions. Then when he had enough money, he’d find somewhere to rent, find someone to build a life with... he’d start a family. Starting a family was something Liam was hesitant on for a long time; he used to hate kids with a burning passion, even when he was a kid himself.

Now he knew why. He was jealous. Jealous over seeing other children live happy, carefree lives with loving families, yearly holidays and the freedom to get in trouble. To make mistakes. To be a kid. Something he was denied.

The more Liam ruminated on this, the more desire he had to break the cycle. He wanted to give his kids the life he never had. A life of freedom, safety and love. He would never judge them. He would never make them apologise for having feelings. He’d help them if they were struggling. He’d teach them everything he could about life... at least, he’ll pass that knowledge on when he knows it himself. He’d spend time with them; playing games with them, maybe even building them their own cubby house with them, just like what he used to do when he was younger.

His reflections were once again interrupted by a knock on the door. Liam didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His parents barged in anyway. “We’re going now. We’ll be a couple hours.” The moment he heard the sound of his parents’ car getting further and further away, Liam set his plan in motion.

That new phone? He wouldn’t need it. He had his own. Liam checked to see whether the coast was clear, then wandered outside the house, sliding on his well-worn boots, borrowing a shovel and heading towards the emptiest spot on his parents’ land; of course, besides the place his family resides. After briefly traipsing through the sea of sand, Liam stopped beside a secluded, shaded area, shadowed by a group of trees.

He plunged the shovel into an area designated by two sticks arranged in the shape of an arrow, the sound short and sharp, comparable to biting an apple. A few wet grains of sand found their way onto Liam’s body, entangling themselves in between the hairs of his leg. The deeper the hole got, the gentler he dug, Approximately three feet down, Liam’s shovel struck a hollow surface, resulting in a dull thud. Damn it. I hope it didn’t crack... Liam’s heart dropped. He surveyed the area and looked over his shoulder, still paranoid despite the silence and the isolation.

After he carefully scraped the sand away from the surrounding area, he pulled out a clear plastic container, inspecting it for any damage. The lid had a small crack, along with some surface damage, but it was otherwise intact. Liam exhaled in relief, knowing that his plan several months in the making wasn’t foiled.

He opened the container, examining its contents.

A new-old phone he bought second-hand. A cheap yet serviceable laptop, also bought second-hand. Chargers. Basic toiletries: a toothbrush, deodorant, toothpaste, a comb and a three-in-one body wash, shampoo and conditioner. An assortment of dry, non-perishable foods.

This container wasn’t just a time capsule or a care package. It was freedom in a box.

Liam knew he only had a few hours at most, so he had to act fast. He rushed back to the house with the container in hand, entering his bedroom for the last time. He turned on both his old and new computers, then initiated a data transfer of all his files. As he waited for his devices to back up, he rummaged through his room for any additional items he could take.

His IDs: a debit card, school ID and a learner’s permit that he never filled in the hours for. A sum of cash -- roughly a thousand dollars. An extra change of clothes. A notebook and pen, in case he has to note down anything important.

And a USB drive, full of everything Liam has ever created. All his games. All his writing. All his 3D models. Every song he made in his entire life. His whole life, packed into a tiny rectangle about two inches long.

The progress bar crawled forward at a funeral dirge-like pace. As time passed by, the anticipation started to catch up to Liam, who started pacing around the house in order to kill time and clear his head. He sat down, stood up again, then started drumming on his body in a futile attempt to keep the nerves from enveloping his consciousness. I’m really doing this. It’s over. Now or never... there’s no turning back now.

The transfer finally completed, and Liam initiated a factory reset on all of his old devices, leaving no traces. He packed the remainder of his personal belongings inside his backpack, which was now so cramped it looked like it could explode. It was time.

Liam took a long, hard look at his surroundings; not because he’d miss this place, but so he could remember where he came from. To give him strength in the difficult times that await him. No license. No car. Nothing but the clothes on his back, a backpack and a box.

Finally, he made his way to the front door and stepped out his parents’ house for the last time, marking his exodus from the gilded cage in which he was incarcerated. Eighteen wasted years... I basically served an entire murder sentence. He doesn’t look back. He walks through the open gates. The gates of what was once his personal hell.

But right as he started to process his liberation, Liam heard the crunch of gravel, followed by an unmistakable silhouette: his parents’ car. Great. Of course they’re back now. Why wouldn’t they be? It’s all they do... stay at home and be miserable all day. He has to find somewhere to hide. NOW. There. That tree will do.

Liam’s heart starts pumping yet again, both from the adrenaline and the exertion of running with a full backpack. Come on... don’t see me... just drive past and carry on with your depressing existences...

To his utmost relief, they drove past his hiding spot, seemingly oblivious to his escape. But not for long. He had to move. Quickly. Liam waits just long enough for his parents to drive past and enter the house, then he lets out a loud exhale -- so loud he was afraid they’d hear.

With that, he hurried down the barren rural street, desperate not to let his parents catch sight of him again.

He was free.

Free at last.

Still, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about it either. He bailed himself out of his own cell out of necessity, for both his future and his wellbeing. It was slowly suffocating him, and nobody knew. He mourned. Not for the life he left behind. Not for the life he lost.

But for the life he never had.

The mourning of a life never lived.

He thought of what could have been if his life had been normal. A life where he had a family who loved him -- not performatively, but genuinely loved him. Not just through gifts, but time. Validation. A life where he hung out with friends who cared for him. A life where he had fun, instead of having to numb himself every waking hour. As Liam followed the road to the nearest town, a single tear fell down his cheek, the first in several years.

Then another. He tried to stop it, but more kept coming. Still, he remained silent, unable to trust himself to make a sound. The physical, mental and emotional exhaustion eventually caught up with Liam, so he found a place to sit down and recollect himself.

The moment was broken by a sudden pinging sound. As the noise faded into the vastness of the desolate landscape, Liam checked his phone, his eyes widening at the sight.

“This is perfect. I love this. The money should come through soon. Maybe I’ll get another track for the main menu?”

A message from a client, including payment from a previous commission. A lot of money... enough to survive for several days. Even better, Liam had secured another commission from the same client. This was the exact opportunity he needed to survive. To live.

To get born again.