Born with two curses, Wasyl cannot live a normal life. The conflict started when he began to see colours; a part of him says he likes green while the other likes orange. The voices did not stop there, it made him struggle with shapes; a circle or a square – what does a face shape like? It wasn’t his fault he was the fruit of a forbidden love. He wasn’t supposed to exist, God let him be insane.
Unlike the other kids, Wasyl don’t like to play. He’s usually alone; talking to himself and scratching his skin to the point of bleeding. He would lie. Tell his mother that he played too roughly if she asked about the wounds all over his body. His mother became anxious because of this so he was kept inside since he was four years of age. Some of his relatives would visit the villa where his parents hide their relationship. At first look, he’s like any other child but unlike them, he hates being touched. He would not talk to anyone but his parents so his cousins would only look at him from afar and speak of hurtful things. But Dounia is not like everyone else. Just as Wasyl, she’s very clever and skeptic for her age and she found him interesting. An extraordinary cousin tried to get into his space; it looked hopeless for he always run away from her eyes and smiles but after she showed her understanding by quoting a good book “Want me to tell you a secret? All the best people are crazy.” he’s can has been opened and his beans were also spilled. Bernard got a place in their strange gang as well and those were the golden days of his life.
School was easy for Wasyl. He could predict what the teacher would say next – word by word. He was too smart for school so his father took him to the convent to learn about God and other manners. But he did not last long at the church, he’s perspective about God was not of theirs. There were many reasons why his parents would fight from time to time, mostly it was because of their personal differences – his mother, a lover of the senses while his father, a lover of ideas – but one night, his parents fought because of him… they can’t tell which of the curses he has possessed. It was called curses because nothing in the universe can remove it from their existence; a gift that has been written on their souls as their meaning of life, their function in the system, as the purpose to keep on living. His mother became the head manager of her family’s company as she is suppose to be while his father became the religious studies teacher as he was born to be but Wasyl is torn between two reasons… is he godly or empirical?
Nothing can be left hidden forever that is why the elders or his godfathers had found out about him. The heads of the families caused the family to fall apart and the day came where Wasyl need to choose a curse to live by. Their slick and expensive cars were parked in front of the villa that stormy noon. The vehicles on the right had circle shaped emblems designed with olive leaves while the vehicles on the left had square shaped emblems designed with bright neon colors, the most noticeable of them is orange. The wind blew most of the autumn leaves and young Wasyl could only expect his cousins’ visit the second time that year. He opened the door with a strong feeling that the day is going to be special but only to discover he was surrounded by frightening adults.
Wasyl hid between his father’s legs in protection to their piercing auras; then one of them spoke “Come closer. We want to see your face clearly boy.”
His father went to his knees to get a clear look at his fearful son for the last time and he said “Wasyl… your mother and I have to go to separate ways now- you do understand why right?” the child nodded and his father hugged him and added “What a good boy… that is why I love you so much.” his father almost cried “I’ll try to visit you at your new home after this.”
Then his mother also talked next to him but closer than the usual “It’s going to be fine Wasyl. It’s just a new place to stay and hey, you can play with Dounia and Bernard everyday since they’re just next door.” The boy smiled “It’s the best place to be and you could also get advanced studies. Isn’t that exciting!” adults always insist their expectations and beliefs to their children and the innocent ones can only agree or be despised.
Wasyl has to face the elders now; he was pushed by his parent to be examined. The godfathers agreed he was truly the son of Lynda Eiripalm and Wallas Gydol for his skin was as translucent as his mother and his eyes were a bit protruding as his father. The pale colors of his face and fingers made the elders squint to the way his parents raised him. His eyes was the aspect that the elders were confused the most for he was the first to have heterochronima – he’s right eye had his mother’s ash gray colors while he’s left eye has his father’s rich honey colors – in both family ancestry.
One of them spoke again “I heard he has a psychiatrist that visits him every Wednesdays and Saturdays. Why is that so?”
His mother can only swallowed her pride while his father defends “There’s nothing wrong with our son! He’s just a bit… unstable.”
“That’s the problem Wallas. Because he’s a living contradiction; the voice of truth within him would only fight for dominance than lead him to be the person he should be.” The priest sighed “I warned you child… this relationship will just make you stray further from God. But since he now exists, there must be a reason to this conflict… Wasyl Eiripalm-Gydol,” the boy stood straighter “What you want to be when you grow up?” he stopped breathing and great silence engulfs the room “By how I see this situation... He’s not a blessing but a warning from God not to let two different perspectives unite for it would only lead to turmoil.”
“For once, we agree with your family” the person who sat at the farthest left stated “And we would also like suggest euthanasia if the families approve of it- it’s just a decision that could help us completely forget about this mistake and move on with our respective lives” Eiripalms were known to be rocks; no storms can shake them.
“No! No one hurts my child!... please” His mother begs her elders.
“So, you would rather watch your son suffer and die than let him have a gentle death?” they counter.
The Gydols cleared “We support Lynda. We also won’t allow you to kill a child just because he’s causing a little commotion in the system. We can only allow you to keep him at your side to make him more of an Eiripalm than a Gydol, and hope the boy’s inner struggles can be solved in that way.”
“Trying to wash your hands clean again Gydols? Because of your misleading teachings, one of your people committed a grievous sin. Then after things go out of your control, you would just walk back like none of it was your fault – you people always point out flaws but you never take the blame..hypocrites!” before the families try to start a long debate about the existence of God, Wasyl interrupted them by saying “I want to be a philosopher!”
Silence entered the scene again and only to be disturbed by an Eiripalm “Being a philosopher is not a job child.”
A Gydol agreed and said “All has been discovered and spoken; the fullness of the ideas might not be there but it’s already thought of and at some instances, grasped.”
“What you said is true… the voices inside me do fight over a lot of things; the clothes I wear, the style of my hair, the books that I read, the words that I speak… but there was a moment where they came to a resolution, they said I must be a philosopher to live a normal life.” The godfathers cannot fight his confession – the voices would never lie or even mislead its listener.
They are now living in a bigger space; mansions that can’t be a home. The compound was all in symmetry and elegance but behind the clean colors, the place always felt gloomy and empty. With a French garden at the front and an open field behind to complete its glory, it reflected the family’s wealth and power as well as their unsatisfied ways. The voices began screaming days after they moved out of the villa. His parent’s rounds of speeches usually sooths the voices because their scared of the adults but now that his mother doesn’t have time for him because her family gave her more work than before and his father never called nor texted him for almost a month now, the noises won’t leave him alone. Sometimes he would have sleepless nights for even the tiniest of things, his thoughts would go wild and they start arguing what book to read by the lamp shade or what sleeping position to go with. Simple things never happened in the life of Wasyl. He even struggles to get out of bed because his voices just want him to stay there and die. It just got the best out of him after his eight birthday; he began cutting his skin and removing his nails. Dounia tried her best to help him by not leaving him out of sight as well as buy him more classics to read. His closest cousins were the only ones who kept on checking his insanity. Herbert would take the effort to call him every lunch break at school and he would often sleep late just to talk Wasyl to slumber. In times of sleep, Wasyl is also hunted by the voices; it would cause him to have horrible nightmares and he would experience seizures and sleep terrors. It was truly hard to calm or hold him down without an adult to assist. Dounia and Bernard would tell their parents and other relatives about his condition, they do listen but never does anything to help out – it was as if they don’t care if he dies young for being deranged.
Wasyl grew taller than his cousins. He wasn’t sickly, he was just too thin. In the age of twelve, he became desperate for relief so he took self-prescribed medicines such as anti-depressants, mood stabilizers and sleeping pills – the money he used to buy them was from his mother’s pocket. Wasyl’s true intension in the act was not to show his hatred to his mother but to lessen the burdens of those who really cared for him. He wasn’t blind to their sacrifices and affections that is why he has to take the edge of the knife instead of hurting them further. Things were getting better because of the pills – the voices were lessened to sounds, he can sleep soundly and he can now choose what he wants to wear for the rest of the day in just ten minutes. It was a good start for it usually takes more than six hours to finish his morning routine because of the voices. That sunny Saturday, the cousins decided to paint near the tall grass for that is where the wild foxes and stags usually strut by. Unexpectedly, their younger relative named Hanna came with them to paint. Angie, her mother was still new to the compound so she didn’t know everybody and she obviously didn’t know who to avoid. So, suddenly, she’s part of the gang for if they would bring her back now, they would miss to see the baby foxes play near the brook. While they were enjoying the scenery, Wasyl was clearly uneasy with the clingy child and his body was already shaking just by hearing Hanna hum rhymes. Dounia overt his attention to something else by positioning an easel in front of him and placed an empty canvas for him to start with. At first, he hesitated and talked about going back to his room but after Dounia ordered him to paint the sky, he has to deal with his mental illness later. Hanna knew what buttons to press but it was all the wrong ones.
She disturbed his little solitude by saying “Your painting’s weird.”
“I’m just imitating Van Gogh’s style in brush strokes” He informed.
“Really?” she got excited for she’s fond of the painter as well “Can you teach me to paint that way?” Wasyl wanted to decline but after the younger one showed her puppy eyes, he was forced to help her.
“First, you have to hold the brush this way,” he showed the position clearly but Hanna can’t seem to do the same so he was obliged to touch her just to place her fingers on the brush properly. Wasyl even guided her hand on the canvas and made the colors blend while she was watching quietly. Dounia and Bernard were speechless towards Wasyl’s calmness and they were also unsure what to do with his mature-side.
“You’re eyes are really pretty,” the younger one said. She was clearly not paying attention to his teachings so he just continue holding her hand and finishing the painting.
“Huh? Why did you mix violet with yellow? Aren’t they contrasting colors?” Hanna wondered; she was constantly disturbing him.
“There something about their difference that I like... How do I put it... imagine earth and water, they could not live without each other. Earth without water is a dessert while water without earth is a black sea.. both are meaningless and lifeless without each other. There are reasons why contrasting things are brought together… Life can only start after chaos.”
The girl giggled to his words and said “You’re as weird as your paintings.”
“I know.” was the only thing he could reply to that.
Everyone was wrong about Wasyl, he may not function like a normal human being but he is more human than anyone can be. There was music in Wasyl’s ears that he could not understand; it felt as if it came from the heavens… it felt like he was doing his purpose. But this emotion did not last long enough inside to enlighten him for they heard a gunshot. Hanna screamed, Dounia don’t know what to do while Bernard just stared at the man who’s bullet landed at Wasyl’s shoulder. The assassin was clothe like an ordinary person, too clean and revealing for his job; he went closer to his target and lined the muzzle at the bleeding boy’s forehead.
“F-Father?” Wasyl recognized the shooter then the killer began to shake and cry.
“You… You should not be alive! You will lead the world into destruction! … I read your notes about God. They are all accurate but no one should know about the truth… that is why you must die son.”
The man slowly pulled the trigger on his face and the boy could only close his eyes and say “Thank you… I’m tired of this tragedy as well.”
Yet Wallas cannot murder his only beloved son so he killed himself instead. The guards arrived as well as their French maids who heard the gun shots and they took the children to safety, except Wasyl. He continued staring unemotionally on the dead body.
He was silent for three months; even his psychiatrist can’t help him. He won’t read any books, won’t look at anyone and orange became his favorite color. Something died inside Wasyl and the voices weren’t doing anything but live in the blank darkness that he is stuck in. He learned to drink to forget about it. Wine, champagne, brandy, whiskey, name it, he mixed it with marijuana just to keep him out of conscious; because every time he looks at his reflection, he can only see a dead man. The dimmest years started when he was sixteen at a local pub. Being missing for ten months don’t seem to worry the family except his cousins who brought him back home after they caught him at a sidewalk half naked, tattooed and drunk. He was too lost to be saved. His mother began screaming and trashing at him because of his dangerous addiction and behaviors. Lynda can control many things in her life but this one, she can’t even look at him without wincing. He was on the edge everyday. One second he’s eating cereals peacefully and the next he’s plotting to drink bleach. The elders advised his mother to introduce him to a mental institution before he puts their name in vain but his mother didn’t lose her hope to save her son yet so she bought more security to watch over him. Dounia would sometimes be at his side and drag him out of the people who restricts his freedom even if Wasyl would only end up wasted.
“Wasyl listen,” she takes away his bottle of sweet toxin but only to be replaced by something far intense “What’s wrong with you? When did you get a Koi tattoo? And what are those scars? How many times do I have to tell you… Wasyl, it wasn’t your fault!”
He rolled his eyes “Stop talking like mom… you women are so annoying.”
“What? What did you say about us women!?” Wasyl stood closer to her, almost touching their nose “Wasyl?...”
“You like me… I saw your eyes dilate.. Don’t come near me again.” Then after that, he was gone for another month and so.
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Wasyl took some millions from his mother’s account and moved to London. His life was quieter there so he learned to avoid drinking and doing drugs in most of instances. The voices returned but their opinions are as empty as his heart so the rain was louder and the cold was stronger than his emotions. While walking on the busy road to get to his apartment, Wasyl’s attention was caught by an antique shop. He did not think, he entered in. The place was interesting and dense. Everything looks expensive but their price tags say less than expected. He wandered off the books section and he found many treasures of the past; some were even the originals. In the end of the day, he could not buy anything since he already knew every story to tell.
Then suddenly, a lady in white with spectrum eyes was in front of him “You remind me of someone… have we met before?” he smiled a little and he wasn’t able to reply for she continued “Maybe we did met but you don’t remember me anymore…” Wasyl look at her closer, trying to recall any memory of meeting the strange lady “Oh well, it’s expected. You were very… young back then. So! Let’s not talk about that further and see what we got here…” the teen wanted to end the conversation and leave but there was something with her aura that seem to engulf the situation with mystery “Little Prince; we all know that story… how about how to kill- oh no, that story is sad as well… umm… oh, have you read Lord of the Flies?”
“Yes.”
“This one is perfect for you!” she handed him a book named ‘Shallow Lake’ “It’s quite a lengthy story but every chapter is a lesson we must not forget.”
“I remember you now… were you my kindergarten teacher?” he guessed.
“No… I take a bigger role than that in your life…” she smiled brightly and it just left him with nothing to think about “see you later… Wasyl Eiripalm-Gydol.” then the lady left as quickly as she arrived.
Of course, he bought the book. It was a puzzling occurrence for Wasyl. He was aware of everything – the people and the objects within the shop – but he did not notice the book and the lady just centimeters far from where he stood.
He heated some water before he began reading. The apartment he bought was small and almost empty; he really didn’t use most of the money he stole since he got a job at a flower shop. Sometimes he would imagine going back there and maintain the good life he was building in the foreign land. But fear and regret crept into him every time he glances at his tattoos and scars; he did not want to be addicted to alcohol or those pills which later on be its slave. Wasyl was a fool. He thought it could make him forget or recover but it just made him more of a mess and he also lost his cousins’ trust. In the silence of a new beginning, he found God again. Before, he’s father claimed he was saved but it was just Wallas’ ego, but now, by the scriptures he read and followed, he can state that he is saved but he still can’t find the purpose why he was created. What do his voices want him to be? He flipped to the next page after reading the dedication and he read ‘We create things that destroy us’ the first chapter doesn’t seem to coincide with the synopsis ‘Earth cannot live without the water as water cannot live without the earth’ Wasyl found the line familiar and tried to recall where it came from ‘In the chaos is where life begins’ then it struck him ‘Order is made by man while unity is made by God… nobody listened when He said beware of the lesser gods’.
The added page fell before the book then the kettle started whistling. He immediately turned off the stove and began shaking. He could not even stand properly so he held the fridge for assistance. Suddenly, there was a knock from the door before he could collect his thoughts. He knew it wasn’t the landlord for he always pays his bills and rent days before due so he took a deep breath before turning the knob.
“Bernard!?”
“Qib. Nobody calls me that sh*t anymore.” He changed.
“H-How did you find me? No, that is not the question. Are going to bring me back home? I’m still not rea-“
Bernard cuts him with “Let me in. We’re in the same position.”
Wasyl understood and opened the door for him to enter “What’s wrong Qib?” he closed the door “did you leave school again because you can’t take it?”
“Just hug me bruh. I’m tired of having a bounty on my head.” Bernard opened his arms.
Wasyl didn’t hesitate; he doesn’t even know what to do at all “Wait a minute, bounty!? What have you done Ber- I mean Qib?” he pushed the other from the act.
“I killed my mother.” He answered blankly.
“What!? Wh-What!?”
“I told you we are in the same position” he smiled differently.
“No we’re not! I didn’t kill anyone and I don’t have a bounty following me around!” Wasyl flared.
“When you left, the Gydols sued you for killing your own father while the Eiripalms is looking for you because your mother said that you stole five billion dollars from the family’s account.” He calmly informed.
“What!?” He’s neighbors are seriously going to kick him out because of the racket he’s making.
“I know darling. It’s all a lie but as always, they’ll do everything just to get rid of you. Especially now that you’ve grown up and capable enough to speak for your defense… but even now, I still don’t know why they hate you.” Bernard took the kettle and poured the hot water in the two cups he prepared “Tea or coffee? Who am I kidding? I don’t own this trashy place!”
“I know why they despise me… I only have tea left” he took the bags from the cupboard and handed it to Bernard.
“Go on,” his cousin took the sugar cubes from the fridge.
“They can’t accept that I can unite both houses,” Bernard was speechless; he did nothing else but lick his lips and sigh.
“The voices discussed how I can do it but I didn’t listen to them because I thought they were just fighting… That is why I wanted to be a philosopher, because I can be analytic and spiritual at the same time. Bernard, I am a balanced person.” Wasyl added.
“And they said you’re f*ck*d up.” he said sarcastically “I knew there was something fishy about those elders… Now everything is f*ck*d up!” then he sipped some tea.
“We must go back to that compound and fix this!” the taller one insisted.
“No we’re not. No one will believe a crazy man and a killer!... I’ll just end up in jail while you end up in a mental asylum.” Bernard was true; the godfathers perfectly planned it all.
“So what should we do?” Wasyl sadly asked.
“Come with me” his cousin offered “believe it or not I’m part of an underground government in Germany… you can be my right hand. You won’t need to hide your wisdom and addictions there… there you could be a free man.”
“I won’t be free if I can’t speak the truth.” the enlightened one refused to live inside the cave.
“Remember this, it was never a curse but a blessing” He told the Gydols “and all blessings misused becomes a curse” and glanced at the Eiripalms before leaving the court. He could have a chance if Daunia volunteered to be one of his witnesses but she didn’t show up; not even a shadow of her was heard of. Bernard is busy doing his part for the glory of God while his mother supported the elders. None of it touched his core at all… for he has suffered enough as of a saint. He complied when they present to him the white jacket. He was even calm when he entered the vehicle – his ride to the mental asylum. Those who broke the covenant thought their saved after sending him far from reality; behind the perfect scenario, they just took the first step towards the destruction of the universe. After more failures to come, someday they will see the balance that could have sent paradise to earth but it would be too late, for the emperor is evil.
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