5. The Perspective of a Forced Loner

 

Two days before Remipor is acknowledged as King

Before coming to the realisation that I was to become the sole sovereign of Earth. I was just a simpleton living below the middle class. Attending school and being picked on for reasons that are out of my bounds. I got bullied to the extent that I have now overcame physical pain and mental abuse. I mean, I still feel the pain, but I don’t overreact as normal people do. Like, if my whole left arm was to get chopped off. I wouldn’t cry or moan, much. I’m not a zombie, I am just strong willed. My current locale is on the healthiest Planet in our Galaxy, Earth, which is the centre piece of resources for the mainstream parts of our Galactic society. This makes Earth the richest world yet, we’ve even got the sweet spot, meaning Earth is situated in the most perfect distance from the Sun, allowing us to have the best farming results. In year 2290, exactly 723 years ago, scientists figured out how to physically move Planets from one place to another, then they had every world hauled in a circle surrounding the Sun for its sunshine, enabling those Planets to grow crops. Though that doesn’t mean they’ve got it all. Earth has something other Planets don’t, which is an unlimited supply of soil, that is why Earth is so rich. We sell the damned dirt to every mainstream Planet. We don’t even have to pay taxes anymore, and apparently sex is much better on certain parts of Earth, due to its atmosphere. I haven’t had any yet, so I can’t back this up, but I heard this was a selling technique real estate agents used on newlyweds. 

 

My only roommate is a full-time bodyguard for the local club, who is also my legal guardian, and she’s working almost every night. I went to put on my school uniform, even though the last day of school is actually a non-uniform day. I just don’t feel comfortable on fashionably presenting myself into the publics eye. I casually walked downstairs to get some breakfast before heading into school to get beat up. I broke my fast in which was last nights leftovers, baked carrots smothered with organic vitamin D with a side of sun boiled lentil rice. I don’t get the bus to school because I'm not popularly welcomed there. I have to walk like seven miles instead, it takes a while to walk but it’s strategically beneficial, in terms of maintaining my youthful physique. My first class of the last day of school is French. 

“For my final lecture of this class, we’ll be analysing some scenes from the French cinema of the year twenty zero one,” said Mr. Aubin, this is my French teacher, he mainly shows us how a Frenchmen frowns than actually teach the language. Then Mr. Aubin left the class and attended to matters he did not discuss.  

“Q? Gives a quick dance,” asked Jakcon, with a tone of politeness that made him seemed like we were friends. I shook my head in reply and prepared for the future. He slapped me impressively hard on the head, to the point that I felt as though am bleeding. I knew he would hit me but I was hoping he would stop there considering it was the last day and all. 

“F*****g Dance then,” he shouted it so loud that everyone thought he demanded the whole class to dance. By getting up, I reassured my class that it was me he was shouting at. He always liked it when I snapped my fingers and kicked my legs up in a jazz rhythm. Not a student laughed and nor did Jakcon, though I did catch a few girls smiling. And honestly, I don’t mind. By this point, I’m totally immune to humiliation. Plus, dancing in front of a class requires mega physical confidence, something I don’t lack, thanks to Jakcon. 

This was the first of many torments and they are always very predictable, or maybe I’m just used to his routine. Mr. Aubin came in after I finished my dance. Great timing to you sir, couldn’t you have walked in when I got hit on the head? Am starting to suspect that Mr. Aubin and Jakcon are having some sort of a deal going on, but thats just me over theorising again. 

“What are you doing Quent,” shouted Mr. Aubin, while holding his signature frown.  

“Turning up the volume, we couldn’t hear anything at the back, Sir.” I had to lie or else he would punish me for leaving my seat. 

“He’s lying, Sir,” informed Jakcon. 

“Um” I said, “I uh…was just going to the toilet, Sir.” I finished, while rubbing my belly.

Look, pretending to have the s***s is far better than the punishment. Plus, I’m also testing my immunity to humiliation. Thankfully he just waved his approval. When French class finished, we got English, and that was always good, then comes break, which is more like avoiding Jakcon. Though it’s especially hard at lunch time since it’s longer, therefore more time for Jakcon to hunt me. If and when he catches me, Jakcon would most likely do something predictable like hitting me. I have a total of six classes per day, and today we have French, English, Sports, Science and Maths. The last class is the worse and the best, it’s the best because it’s the last class and the worse because its craft and design. I’m hinting at the tools here. I sat with two girls across from me because the other tables are occupied with boys that hated me for reasons I do not yet know. Jakcon and his gang had always punched me in the back as they walked by to their desk, they made a tradition out of it. When the teacher came in he told his class what we were going to do for the day, then f***s off to the break room, which leaves me with Jakcon. Since we’re in a workshop they had these wooden mallets, and every time the teachers gone. Jakcon arms himself with mallets on both hands and starts using my back as a drum kit, making f*****g drum noises every time he hits me. Hard enough to bruise me but not enough to shed blood. The two girls across from me smiles every time he hits a note. When school finally breaks for the summer holidays, Jakcon usually says, ‘When you’ve healed up nicely during the summer, I’ll be giving you something fresh to heal up again’ but since todays literally the last day of school, he just spat on my face, which wasn’t so bad. I had anti-bacterial wipes packed. 

I don’t usually get the bus home but today I made an exception, because walking with a bruised back is harder than putting up with the verbal abuse that I’ll be getting on the bus ride home. I weighed the odds and a bus ride sounded more beneficial. Thankfully, Jakcon got a lift home instead, because the bus I’m riding on is the bus Jakcon normally uses. Though his gang remained and all they did was call me names, which was quite harmful to my ears, in terms of loudness. There was also the accidental saliva that comes out from their shrieks and onto my face, thank f**k for my anti-bacterial wipes. I honestly don’t understand why they hate me so much, but I guess that doesn’t matter any more as I won’t ever be seeing them again. I’ve always wondered why Jakcon does what he does, I never insulted him before. He doesn’t even look threatening. The first time I ever met Jakcon was on the day school just started for me. I was in the toilets washing my hands, and he smiled at me somewhat fiercely. I thought he was gay for a moment because the way he was looking at me seemed like he wanted me sexually, but in the moments later, I realised he wanted me for something else entirely. 

“Why are you not smiling back?” Jakcon said in an impudent manner. 

I smiled, reached out for a handshake and said “Hey, am Que�"” 

He cut me off and started stamping at my feet, I wasn’t sure how to react. I had always thought bullies go for the face or the stomach.

“Don’t ever smile at me again,” said Jakcon in a tone of disgust.

“Am going to start calling you thief,” he said. I believe I cringed very hard at this point.

“I didn’t steal anything” I casually said.

“You robbed me of my time.” Smirking while saying it, then he punched me right in chest and walked away leaving me coughing in pain. After he left, I started laughing uncontrollably while thinking how lame the nickname was. His lack of creativity gave me hope, this is because if he does continue to bully me. It wouldn’t be as bad as someone smart doing it. You see, smart people are often inventive, and creative people always look for new options, which would make his attacks very unpredictable if he was clever. I knew this was the start of something bad but I knew I had to be positive in these dull situations. Anyway, that was the first time someone forcefully touched me in the boys toilet. The majority of my population states that almost every straight male experiences a gay moment in their lifetime, and I think this was mine. 

Jakcon and his gang are the only ones who bully in our school. About 723 years ago, Earth was somewhat over populating, and with the advance science, our world leaders managed to export just over 80% of humanity to other Planets. The remaining population on Earth was left to re-build and re-create a new society. Hatred and racism was a norm 723 years ago, as well as the over population. The exportation of humanity gave the government a chance, an idea really. That idea was a new form of birth control, condoms were working but it was mainly unreliable. This new birth control system acts as an injection, it injects a cell that prevents semen from working and females unable to pro-create, but this is all temporary. Every newborn human is required by law to have this injection. In order to remove it, you must be over 21 years of age and you must be able to pass a strict parental course. The basics of the parental course requires you to have a reasonable salary per year, and must undergo a psychology test to prove you’re sane and eligible. This is to insure the government that your child/children will not grow up to be damaged and project negativity to the new society of today. Most criminals have bad childhoods and the government knew this program would prevent the foundation of it. This idea reduced over-population by 67%, but some exceptions are made, rich and powerful people like Jakcon’s parents are able to bypass the parental test. Hence why Jakcon is the way he is I guess, because he was raised by rich a******s, I’d think. It’s an on-going theory of mines… 

When I got home my guardian was already at work, I showered and went to sleep. My room mate usually comes home at around 2am after her shift, then she sleeps till 1pm, and starts work again at 4pm. That’s when I come home from school, and then I sleep till midnight. So we don’t get the chance to talk much. Summer does get a bit boring for me and I do often find myself craving for a conversion every now and again. The next day my guardian stormed into my room and showed me these papers she filled for me. 

“I applied a job for you, Quent, you’re going to work somewhere for at least a month.” 

“Why a month?” I mumbled, with a groggy attitude. 

“To prove to me that you are independent.”  

I didn’t reply because she would always interrupt me mid-sentence, so it was always impossible to hold a conversation with her. She left it at that and went to work. I wonder what job she applied for me, but it says Kerra Marcie.  

“Whats this job about?” I whispered to myself. So I decided to read further and I read family restaurant written somewhere. 

“Family Restaurant?” I huffed out. We’re the only Planet that supplies everyone with free food, thats how rich our world is, but restaurants and food companies still exists. As cooking for yourself is now considered a rare artform, than that of survival. Since people rarely do it, because they can get their free meals instead. Buying ingredients now seems pointless for the poor, but the rich look at it as a luxury. Buying groceries is now like fashion, they even have auction houses for certain rare food types. So cooking for someone is considered a high standing job, women supposedly look at chefs like how women look at sport players. A chefs fanbase often comes with the job, even if you’re s**t at it. After a few short seconds of anxiety. I finally adapted to the current situation and gathered my hidden courage to hand in this job application. I carry on reading the application to find out that the address had no number, or specific street name, only stating that they are 5.5 miles north from Mentre Street, located in Derutin City. That’s about 7 miles from here, I could take a slow walk and maybe grab dinner somewhere cheap afterwards. I made a brief decision to wear a dark shirt, black flexible wooden tie with black skinny jeans. I reckon it’s suitable enough for handing in a job application. After minutes of walking I started wondering why I haven’t had a universal bus ticket yet. Maybe if I get this job I can afford to get a bicycle at least. As much as I like walking, it does get a bit tedious, especially if I get this job. 

Soon I’ll be there, just have to walk down Mentre Street and turn left above this massive hill, and as I’m walking up this beast of a hill. I realised that this was not where Kerry Marcie’s restaurant is. It was actually down the hill and then a quick turn to the right. I should have equipped a compass. I got back down the hill semi-frustrated, turned right and kept walking. About 2.5 miles north, the city started to disappear behind me. By this point, I realised this route is taking me straight for the forest. I came across a bike stable and was about to ask the owner for help, but thankfully there was a trail path next to the stable, with an oak board sigh reading Kerra Marcie, 3 miles ahead. As I’m walking I started to notice that there is no way solar cars could drive up to this restaurant. People would have to park outside the forest and walk like 3 miles in. So maybe if I do get this job it won’t be as busy, because most people wouldn’t want to walk three f*****g miles into a forest just to get food. Unless this restaurant is some five star place, and I do hope this place isn’t five stars.