The Guardians of Light

The Moral Sociopath

Like every other day, today also started with a ray of sunshine that doesn't cheer me up. My life has become so monotonous that I sometimes feel like I'm a robot. There's literally no difference between me and a robot. I am a perfect example of who you call an 'Introvert.'

Sorry, I forgot to tell you who I am. My name is Ryan Bloom, and I'm 18 years old. I study at Sterling High School and probably the most boring student ever. Unlike everyone who writes the events of their day in a diary, I merely spend an hour in retrospection.

I am neither an optimist nor a pessimist. I treated everything as neutral and kept myself aloof from the people around me. I wasn't always like this. Back in childhood, I was a happy kid when I didn't understand anything. I was so joyful and talkative. I used to be very close to my parents, especially with my mother.    

Back in elementary school days, I used to tell everything that was going on in my life to my mother. My father is a very meticulous person that I realised as I grew up. He had higher expectations from me since childhood. It was like he set higher standards for me without even giving a thought of whether I could reach it or not.

When I failed to meet his standards, he expressed great disappointment in me. My mother used to defend me at the beginning, but it continued to decline over the years. And when I surpassed his standards, he set me with higher standards. The lack of encouragement made me mad in a way that I couldn't understand.

 As the years passed, I started to disappoint my father in every possible way, not deliberately, but I sort of gave up to work for things that impressed him. It went to a stage where I felt like my own father looked at me with contempt. Eventually, I lost the desire that pushed me to make him admire me. I expressed my unhappiness in various occasions and realised that my feelings and opinions doesn't really mattered to him.

My father's resentment and my mother's silence repressed my feelings. I learned to respond nonchalantly to everything, whether good or bad. Soon even this habit of mine started to piss them off. And that's how I led my twisted childhood. It made me what I am today, a sociopath but with morality.

I started to live in the fantasy I imagined more than reality because reality is always disappointing with no happy endings. Whereas, I could write my story in my imagination, which is free from the toxicity of the people.

That's a lot about my bitter childhood anyway. I finished retrospecting and got ready to go to school. While leaving, my mother, Jenna, who was in the kitchen, scrubbing the dishes, yelled at me, saying,  

'Uncle Jack and aunt Wendy are going to visit today, so please be home early.'

I heard what she said, but left without giving her a reply. She had a message for me, which I received, so confirming it seemed unnecessary to me. My mother got accustomed to this behaviour of mine anyway.

After school, I don't usually go directly to home. I had a secret spot in the woods beside the school. I spend an hour or more there, where I pretend to live on the other planet. It gave me a ray of hope on everything, but I didn't allow myself to have faith in anything. I fixed in my mind that, 'No miracle is going to happen and nothing is going to change.'

I finally reached my school and walked the corridors with my face down as if I am guilty of something. I didn't make eye contact with anyone. I heard some people calling me 'jerk' but I ignored it as I do every day. My day would be incomplete without someone calling me a 'jerk,' 'i***t,' or 'freak.'

I went straight to my class. The first period was science, which I am not interested in at all. As soon as the lecture began, I slowly drifted into my own fantasies, but I looked attentive all the time. So the professor never caught me for being distracted. That is one of my stupid a*s talents. Also, I managed to get a decent grade in every test, so the staff never had any complaints with me.

After a one long hour, the lecture came to an end. While leaving, the lecturer Mrs. Smith, handed over the marks that we secured on the surprise that she conducted last week. As usual, I scored about 70 percent.

Mia, short for Miranda, who is my bench mate, became confused after seeing my result. She only got 60 percent on her test. It's ironic because she pays attention to the class, unlike me, who is engaged in his own dreams.

Disturbed Mia, finally called me.

'Hey, Ryan. How do you get good grades even though you never listen to the lecture?'

Generally, I would not have replied to her, but I wanted to answer this question.

' It's not about "how." It's about "why." If I get bad grades, the professor will have complaints, and if she had complaints, she's gonna want to talk to my parents that I don't prefer. Hence, good grades.'

'Would you teach me the way you read?'

I could understand that she is sincere and wanted to learn, but I just walked away from there, not thinking about how she felt.

It's not that I don't care, it's just I don't give it a thought about other people's feelings. Even though I behave in this manner, she continues to sit beside me, bearing my ignorance and tolerating my rude behaviour.

I admire her.

 All the classes completed, and I walked alone as I didn't have any friends.   Despite my mother asking me to come home early, I chose not to go. I went to my camping spot and laid on the bed that I made for myself and looked at the sky. When I looked at the sky, I pictured myself as a passing cloud, but I wanted to be the whole sky, which is near to impossible in my current life.

An hour passed by, and I decided to go home. Luckily, my uncle and aunt didn't arrive yet. I sighed.

'I told you to come home early today, didn't I?' said my mother expressing disappointment.

Alas! The relief didn't last long.

'I am home before they are, aren't I?'

'I am not in a mood to argue. They will be home in 15 minutes. Quickly freshen up.'

I went to my room and took a bath. Bath always removed my stress to some extent. I felt peaceful. The moment I came out of the room, my uncle and aunt arrived.

"Look who's here, the infamous Jack," said my father with a cheering smile on his face.

He never cheered me with at least half of what he is exhibiting now over the past years.

My father, James, and Uncle Jack hugged each other while my mother and Aunt Wendy exchanged warm smiles.

After the exchange of pleasantries, Uncle Jack spotted me and came towards me to give a hug. Despite my apathy, I wished my father to be like Uncle Jack.

At this point, I mastered in pretending. I gave an expression signifying that I am happy on their arrival. Aunt Wendy waved from the position she stood, and I waved back.

Uncle John claims himself to be an epicure, so he rejects eating in many places. But he takes great pleasure in eating the dishes my mother made. Yeah, my mother really makes delicious dishes. You need not go to a fancy restaurant, cause my mother makes dishes which will leave you with an expression of "wow".

We had a peaceful meal with a general conversation where I remained silent most of the time. I just nodded in agreement and smiled occasionally.

After the meal, Aunt Wendy gave me 50$, and they took off, and I went straight to my room. I became too distant to my parents that, even formal good nights were absent.

Before going to bed, I thought it would be better if I could glance at all the topics that were covered in the science class today.

It was about "Oneirology," a study of dreams. Dreams mainly occur in the Rapid Eye Movement (REM) stage of sleep—when brain activity is high and resembles that of being awake. People are more likely to remember the dream if they are awakened during the REM phase.   

According to Sigmund Freud, dreaming is an expression of repressed conflicts or desires.

Whereas Carl Jung took a more rigorous approach, explaining dreams as a sort of “shaped energy,” inchoate emotions or thoughts released by the deep subconscious and entrained into narratives by higher regions of the brain.       

Modern psychologists and neurologists, armed with imaging equipment including PET scans and MRI's, have taken things to a deeper and more technical level, speculating that dreaming is the brain’s way of dumping excess data, consolidating important information, keeping us alert to danger and more.  

But why do dreams take the particular shape they do? Why do you dream about flying, or being chased by a wild animal, or showing up at that always-embarrassing party with your always-absent pants, or reaching to the imaginary restroom? And why are there dreams so bizarre or seemingly perverse that you will carry them to your grave rather than revealing so much as a single detail about them to anyone in the world?

The least glamorous explanation for any dream is that it serves as a sort of data dump — a clearing of the day’s useless memories and a caching of the valuable ones.

Though the topic fascinated me, sleep dominated my interest, so I closed my textbook and tried to sleep. Very soon, I drifted into sleep.

I woke up in a totally different place. It appeared like I am on an alien planet. The surroundings seemed different yet similar. It confused me.

The sun was a radiant, its light creeping into every corner, bathing the whole world in a warm glow. I walked down a twisting road, grassy, forest green hills looming over the mountainous drive. An endless expanse of turquoise wonder towards the distant horizon.  

I walked for miles but couldn't see anyone or hear anything. I started to tire and felt thirsty, but there was no one around to ask for help. Soon, the refreshment provided by the aesthetic scenery ceased. 

As I walked further, I began to feel lightheaded, and slowly lost my consciousness.