The London Underground's Northern Line was always the same: Loud, hot, and packed up. Occasionally, you get to see a brawl or two for entertainment. But other than that, it was a rather quiet journey all the way to the end of the line if you're lucky. It wasn't silent for me.
It is said that when you're about to die, your life flashes in front of your eyes as it is happening to me now. I wondered if this was a bad omen, as those memories highlighted.
I am Gerald Browen, 28 years old, a Sales Manager and when I was a kid, I used to believe justice prevailed regardless of circumstances, but I ended up always having to bring it with my own two hands, beating the kids in the neighbourhood when necessary, and also getting beaten once in a while.
As my father used to say: 'Doing God's work is painful, so stop it'.
He believed even if you had to wait a bit for it, regardless of whether you waited for God to act, or for Karma to strike… you'd eventually get your retribution. My late father was a very enthusiastic and metaphysical-believing man who fiercely applied this concept. He was a German banker, while my mother was an English accountant.
He worked hard to achieve his goals and believed that throughout his experiences, retribution was always meted out by the divine, and those with evil hearts would never reach heaven. I didn't believe any of that nonsense; Most particularly because I saw through their lenses how this family remained together out of sheer love rather than luck and retribution.
His beliefs were cute, but God never did his work for us. It was my father and mother breaking their backs to bring food to the table, not God.
Putting aside his religious ramblings, my dad was a very intelligent man, just like my mother, and I loved and learned a lot from them. They showed me one reality at our house. But the world showed me another reality outside, the one in which those evildoers get to do whatever they want without consequences. We live in a concrete jungle where the ones that reach the top are the ones who know how to lie better, manipulate better… compared to the previous ancient times where violence reigned and the strong reached the top… this reality is arguably much worse.
Regardless of what conclusion the strong ones reach on how to use their strength, it is still honourable to overcome one's shortcomings and become physically stronger to be at the top and lead, compared to this putrid society that encourages you to lie and manipulate to reach the height of a bureaucratic ladder where you get to exploit and even look down upon those who rightfully try to get better.
The world I live in is fabricated for the wicked to triumph and step on those of good heart. I was sure… none of those bastards at the top was someone honourable to look up to. To get there, they had to stain their hands and morals.
This train of thought brought me back to the past, to my childhood when I lived in ignorant bliss. When I was a kid, I used to watch cartoons and anime on TV and the Internet with my friends. I would marvel in these fictional worlds where violence was still an option, and we even felt thrilled at watching this violence unfold in spectacular and flashy battles like those in Dragon Ball, where two individuals who had trained their entire lives faced each other in battle to decide who was right and who was wrong.
Aside from Dragon Ball, a classic, I liked One Piece and Attack on Titan a lot. They were two masterpieces so contrasted to one another. One was a comedy with deep story intonations. Another was a deep, crude story with some comedic undertones.
Both touched my mind on a deeper level compared to the others. But I never finished either of them. When I was twelve, my dad died from lung cancer; I had to drop everything that was taking my time and take life seriously for my and my mom's sake… I had to focus, and so I stopped watching those stories that, at the end of the day, are no more than mere fiction.
They teach you nothing about the real world, only a phantasmagorical portrayal of what a better world would look like. Because we don't live in a world of violence. We live in a world of bureaucracy; a reality in which your boss, whom you just accused of embezzlement with clear proof and paper, can't get away with it and get you fired from a company where you have been working for five years, trying relentlessly to climb up that steep ladder filled with gatekeepers that want nothing more than for you to twist your morals ever so slightly each step of the way and accept corruption.
I couldn't help but sigh at myself.
And that's the situation where I am now, sitting on my seat in the train with two fatties on either side, clutching me in my spot, a baby crying at the end of the coach irritating everybody. Unemployed, my career as a sales manager stained and wondering what to do with my life from now on while the bastard of the director I accused basked on his money and success while the whole department sucked on his toes like loyal bitches.
What a life to live. Just the thought alone made me feel irritated, the people in the coach stared at me like I was about to punch somebody. They wanted to get away from me, but we were all packed up like Tuna, 'I should have driven today…'
'Retribution will come, Gerald' I could almost hear my father's delusional words next to my ear. Thankfully, unlike the past, I had grown up, matured, and decided that punching that bastard one time in the face was not the best way to go. I couldn't bring retribution with my own hands this time around, so I guess... I'll let God handle it this time.
Soon, as the journey continued, the irritation gave way to this indescribable feeling of freedom that I hadn't felt since I was a kid. No job and no ladder climbing also meant no stress... at least until the savings ran out.
As I sat in the underground train, swaying back and forth and smelling the summer sweat of the other customers, I felt unexpectedly free. I would have to get another job, do some research... but it was all entirely up to me. My savings were in the six figures. I haven't touched them for decades, only adding up ever so slightly to get a mortgage to buy a house. I have been so focused on climbing up that ladder that I didn't realise I already have enough money for the instalments.
There was nothing to fear, there was freedom. But… why then is there this feeling of desolation? Why can't I help but recall the past like movie scenes that flash in my mind?
For some reason, I recalled One Piece and Attack on Titan, 'I should finish them… It's been years, surely they're already finished'.
Maggie, my girlfriend with whom I was living, would think I was crazy if I told her that I was going to take it slow for a while and watch some anime after getting sacked from the company. Nevertheless, she'd probably join me with some popcorn to enjoy the night.
She knew I was the type to bounce back.
I was going to take out my phone to send her a message, and recalled that there was no signal underground. People came and went on and off the coach, and I was getting closer to my destination, no longer feeling as constricted. It reached a point when there was barely anyone on the couch anymore.
But there was still someone next to me.
"–tired".
I heard a mumbling voice next to me and looked at the person with a side eye. A bohemian-looking geezer with hair that went past his shoulders. It wasn't until he turned to look at me a bit that I noticed it wasn't a geezer but instead a young man with a lot of facial hair: beard and moustache.
He said something to me that didn't make much sense. Moreover, as if he knew my background, he spoke to me in German, not in English.
"Do you know the anime Attack on Titan?"
"Hmn?" I looked like him like he was some crazy otaku. Whoever talks to strangers on the train and talks about anime on top of that? I'm wearing a tux and carrying a case. Do I look like that to you? He looked at me with eyes that were deep and dark then said something that pissed me off.
It was a spoiler. This motherfucker spoiled me the anime!
"A-Are you... Are you for real…?"
As if aware of the wicked deed he had just committed, the 'young' man laughed at my face.
I was fuming to the point I got out at Elephant and Castle, far from my actual station. I just didn't want to see his face. I left, and he looked at me all the way. I showed him the finger… and then he smiled even more and returned it to me.
I thought about giving him a beating there and then, but the noise of the closing doors brought me back to reality. I sighed and left. 'No matter how bad your day has been, can't beat someone over a spoiler of an old anime, Gerald'.
I was trying to relax and maybe finish those two anime that I never finished. Only for this bastard to spoil me and shatter even that feeble desire. He must've been on crack or something.
I cancelled that plan and instead thought of just having an evening date with Maggie to explain the situation. When I called her, she didn't answer, but I didn't get voicemail either. It was as if her phone was switched off, which was weird. She should still be in the office, available as she uses that phone to work as well.
I didn't give it much thought and decided to just stay at the nearest pub and grab a pint until she answered. You may call me a puss, but I love apple cider. I grabbed it and looked at the broadcast news on the BBC that people around me were discussing.
They were showing breaking news of some footage where people recorded a yellow explosion of lightning far away on the English Channel, south of Dover. People were speculating on what it could have been.
'UFOS!' That was the first claim, said by cracky Dave. I don't know his name, but the way he looks, that can't be far off. I laughed it off while chatting with someone at the counter, explaining that it should have been just one of those meteorological events that happen once every hundred years.
For hours, I didn't hear from Maggie and was starting to get worried. So I called her boss, a lady called Sophia. Her boss told me she had already left home, but that her phone was out of battery, and that was probably the reason why she hadn't contacted me. I relaxed and decided to just head back to our flat (apartment).
I took a shower and lay down in the quiet living room, thinking about life, about Maggie and about our future... In this sudden outbreak of freedom, I wondered if she was the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. She was warm, cute... not necessarily the most beautiful girl in London, but I was already at a stage where 'beauty' wasn't what I was looking for.
I guess for now, I just wanted someone who wouldn't come and criticise me over getting sacked. I was a bit tipsy after three jars of apple cider, looking at the ceiling, lying down on the sofa in the quiet living room in silence.
'Is this all there is to my life? Buy a house, marry this woman, have kids... and then what?' It didn't sound like a bad outcome, rather... I should have been grateful that this outcome was even a possibility.
But I don't know why... at the end, thinking about it, it felt...
Unsatisfactory.
...
I felt the ground shake a bit, and the chandelier wiggled back and forth. Once, twice, thrice… every time the shaking was stronger until it just stopped. I thought I was very drunk, but the next thing I knew, the ceiling was crumbling on me so quickly I couldn't even react.
!!!
I crouched, trying to protect myself, but nothing happened. I didn't feel pain, I didn't feel anything, but when my eyes opened, I was in a white world.
"…"
"…"
There was a figure looking at me. We didn't say a word to one another, but I could tell this person was looking so deeply into me. Staring at parts of me that I didn't even know existed. Then this person, who was as small as a teenager, stretched and touched my forehead with her finger.
I felt weird, something giddy around my whole body, like it was being disintegrated and reformed, yet it was painless.
This individual, this deity... then showed me something that looked like a fruit, something I recognised dimly in those faraway memories of my childhood.
That was the start of it all.