Earth, Singapore,

Kai Burner

Today's a Saturday, so instead of heading to school like on the weekdays, we stick to the weekend schedule assigned by Mdm Matilda, our head administrator of the orphanage.

Right now, at ten am, it's free rec till lunch time. The rest of the kids are either colouring, drawing, playing board games, mingling or watching the television in the common room. I, on the other hand, have decided to opt out and instead listen to music as I lay on the bed, pondering about another life that I could have had. Any other would probably be an improvement.

I do this all too frequently. Envisioning and constructing a whole new world in my head, sometimes lapsing an hour or two, imagining being in one where I belong. And in this utopia, I am happy. Living. Unsurpassed in no bounds than this one. Nothing fazes me. Whatever issues I face, in this perfect world I've created, is trivial, because I have a lot of good things to be grateful for.

Give me an actual world without much suffering and I will show at least some gratitude.

With the door of my room left ajar—which is a rule during the day—I see Ms Tina pass by. She sees me, and then stops. She smiles, gestures at me as if saying, 'Come, let's do something.'

She will probably try and get me to socialise with the others.

A very faint crease of line forms on my lips, but I point to my earpods and lightly shake my head, my way of saying 'I need me time.'

She smiles, nods and then shows me the finger heart gesture—a thing we picked up from our Korean drama nights before bed—and then she walks away.

Why bother trying to fit in with the other kids anyway? After what happened that day with Taufiq, all the other kids have started treating me differently. Everywhere I go, I can hear faint whispers, my periphery notices the furtive glances, sometimes even outright ambivalent stares. They've started to become wary of me to the point of subconscious exclusion, as if having me around was bad news. As if I could do to them like what I did to Taufiq.

Technically, I could. But I realise, when I am really upset, angry, or pushed beyond my breaking point, only then would it happen.

But I didn't mean to do it.

Like how I didn't mean to crack Dad's favourite cup that day. Or that one afternoon in class when a sudden surge of anger filled inside me because they kept slurring the epithets 'Druggie kid', and I felt the blood inside me boil up and when I pounded my desk, it broke and shattered into pieces (A splint of wood flew and grazed a classmate. I was almost suspended for that incident.) Or that time when they pushed me against the floor, letting Taufiq land punches onto my arm, and then when I screamed a hellish tune, blood started to flow out of his ears, nose and mouth, and then he—

—I didn't mean to do any of those things.

My eyes start to glisten at the thought, but I stifle them, resisting to let go.

I repeat that day over and over again in my head, as though a depressing break up song playing on repeat, even though one's mind's already preoccupied enough as it is with heartache and sorrow.

Perhaps they victimise me because of the special treatment I get from Ms Tina. Or maybe they're just born to be bullies. But no, no one is born bad, it is by experience otherwise.

But I didn't deserve it. I don't deserve any of this.

But everyone has problems.

Everyone has their own issues. I'm not that special then, if you think about it. I am merely a speck of dust in this vast, limitless world.

But according to Ms Tina and Mdm Matilda, based on the few incidents, I am special.

I think hard about this mysterious gift I have.

I wonder if Mom is proud of me, that I have a special gift. But like the complications of matters relating to world politics, I can hardly understand them. Why me?

But Mom used to always say it to me too.

"Honey, you're so special.. Don't forget that."

"Mom... I'm not.."

"You are. Please know this. You are so special, and I'm not saying this just because I am your mother. I love you honey. You are so special. But if one day I am no longer around, you take care of Dad and Ezra, okay?"

"Mom.. What are you saying? Are you leaving?"

"Everyone leaves this realm eventually, honey."

I remember her smile, but I could sense a pang of sadness from it. The smile reminds me of Ms Tina, except more sombre, more serious. Like a hidden agenda beneath.

"Remember honey, you are so special. And for some reason, you will save the world. I see this, and not only when I am awake, it penetrates into my dreams. So never forget this; You stay alive. You stay alive now, honey. Whatever it takes. Tell me, what do I always say?"

I hugged her by the neck as I repeated the words, "I am special. I am so special. I will change the world one day."

I remember her kissing my forehead with her eyes closed as she said this, "Yes, that is correct. I love you, honey."

To think that Mom would have off-ed herself by jumping from the twelfth floor of the building is beyond me. She had done it a few days after we had had that conversation, and was pronounced dead at the hospital an hour after. Because Ezra didn't want me to witness the traumatic sight of her bloodbath, I was instructed to stay in my room instead, much like how I did when Dad was Hurtful Dad. But Ezra had relayed to me what had happened after.

Although I harbour a lingering resentment towards Mom, even up till now, my yearning and longing for her far surpasses it. It must have been exhausting, doing what she had done. Surviving and struggling with that pain everyday, albeit in misery. Living in a world that was, to her, dying. My brain is in constant denial, choosing to understand her decision, my heart however, cannot begin to fathom her actions.

If only her pure love for Ezra and I were sufficient in providing the sustenance she needed to simply find it worthy to stay alive.

But I realise, as humans, delicate fragile souls as such, sometimes there is only so much we can handle before assuming that death is the best way to end a life filled with perpetual suffering. In the moment of intense emotions, death might feel like the only option, although it is never the truth. Nor is it ever the right option.

If only to fear what comes after death would be enough to keep some painful souls to continue living.

Even before Dad's demise, he had also alluded to me saving the world, and that he could see it.

I spend some time thinking about this coincidence. Not long enough to start getting too emotional though. I purposely switch to a song to lift my already depressed soul up. I press on the title Starlight by Muse and it begins playing, the melody blasting and penetrating the inner sanctums of my brain.

I don't understand this special gift. I can't put to pieces this sudden feeling of wanting to save the world either.

But then I realise, whatever I have felt then, seems to have been amplified since, like a vengeful ex-lover seeking to get revenge after an unjust breakup.

But I thank this special gift and its incipiency, for acting as a strong deterrent. Taufiq, Zachary and Jonas, whenever there weren't any adults around, would previously do anything to make my life miserable. This included and was not limited to time in school.

After that incident however, they've willingly and on their own accord, decided to keep away from me at an arm's length, or to just avoid me entirely and walk away whenever I got too close, like I'm an elderly with a phlegmy cough with a mask on in public commute, assumed to have covid-19 simply due to an itchy throat.

I keep replaying the conversation I had with Ms Tina from yesterday, so that I perhaps will not lose myself again as to spark another magical accident in the future.

"I know you didn't mean to do it, Kai," she said this reassuringly, while I buried myself in my hands, sobbing away.

I remember her trying to pull my hands away from my face, smiling as she did so. At the sight of her, my sobs slowly lessened into intermittent sniffles. She leaned forward to wipe away the trickles of tears on my face using her hand.

"It's okay, everything's going to be okay," she said. Her favourite sentence to calm me down.

But for once, I didn't know how to respond, so I kept mum. Because a part of me knew that for some reason, everything was in fact, not going to be okay. At my reticence, she continued speaking—

"But this gift. You will need to learn how to control it," her facial expression, for the first time, turned sombre. And much like her smile of an angel, it was easily distinguishable. "It is amazing. Let me just tell you, you are amazing. But if you don't learn to control them, more people will get hurt. You need to understand, Kai, that Taufiq is in the hospital, in the paediatrics ICU ward. The doctors don't know what happened, but they need answers," she finally finished.

"I—" I looked down to my fingers and started fidgeting them again. "I will try to control my emotions."

I turned my gaze back to her, and I saw her eyes glistening. She took a deep breath, with her eyes looking up, as if to not let a tear break out.

"We are still discussing whether the right course of action would be to inform any governmental officials," she said this very carefully, almost in a whisper. "We don't know what would happen if they were to—"

"—Please Ms Tina, I will control my emotions. I don't want to be taken awa—"

"—Hey," a tear finally escaped and lined down her cheek. "I will protect you, at all cost."

It was as if Mom had killed herself, and as a wandering lost spirit in limbo, realised she had made a very big mistake, then decided to possess Ms Tina to take care of me.

Interrupted by the faint thumpings of urgent footsteps coming close, I get pulled back to reality. Running. A sound growing louder as it approaches, from the common room up onto my direction. I press pause on my phone out of curiosity. Ms Tina suddenly appears at high speed, and barely manages to break it by grabbing against the jamb of my door for support. She holds her phone in one of her hands, but because of the sudden force, her phone flies a metre towards me.

"Ka— Kai!" she pants, catches her breath as she clumsily crouches down and fumbles to take her phone.

"Ms Tina, what's wrong?" I say as I sit up on my bed.

"Did you—Wait," she pants and wipes the sweat on her forehead. "I ran—from the—common room."

"Wha—"

"—It was playing on—on the television."

"What?" I look at her in confusion. "What was playing?"

"From the government. Everyone there saw it. Mr Ang, Mdm Matilda, even the kids that were there saw it. We also received a text."

"I don't—"

—A ring plays in my ears, the sound so jarring and loud it reverberates and echoes from my earpods. A message notification from an untraceable number. I start breathing faster. My forehead starts to shine a coat of sweat as I open the message—

THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS NOT A FAKE MESSAGE. DO NOT REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE. TUNE INTO NEWS 5 TONIGHT, ON CHANNEL 5, AT 9.30PM TONIGHT. THIS IS COMPULSORY FOR ALL CITIZENS OF SINGAPORE. MATTERS REGARDING EVERY CITIZENS AGES 10 - 15. EVERY COUNTRY IS INVOLVED IN THIS WIDE SCALE EVENT.

"I.. I don't understand," I mutter to Ms Tina.

Ms Tina breaks out into tears, but she's smiling. She wipes her tears as she takes a seat beside me. My treacherous bed screeches for help as it holds both our weights. Startled by the sound, she places her hands on the sides, as if to steady herself.

"Kai. We're not really sure, but we think it has to do with your gift. It has to be," she says.

A part of me feels like she is right. Another part of me, based on the text, feels like I might be sent away, for some reason. So I say,

"I don't want to go."

"Maybe, it is for the best," she says. "Think positive, okay?" She pats my matted black head of hair, and then suddenly, Tim, one of my roommates, comes into the room. We both turn our heads to look at him, and he jolts upright at the sight of us, realising he had interrupted an intimate moment, but then he composes himself and say,

"Ummm.. Kai, there's a lineup."

A lineup. Someone wants to adopt, so we'll have to form a line and act our cute perfect selves, maybe show a little of our best tricks, hoping to be adored, hoping to ultimately be sheltered in a proper environment, like irresistible puppies at an adoption centre.

"Go," she whispers to me. "We can talk more about this later."

"Tim, where is the lineup this time?" I ask as I stand up.

Tim doesn't immediately answer. Instead, he turns on his heel and walks out, perhaps a sign saying that he doesn't want us to walk together. I get it. I would be afraid of me too. But before he goes totally out of sight, he says in a volume I can barely hear, "Outside, in the garden. Mdm Matilda is showing them our gardening work."

I turn back to look at Ms Tina, still stuck on the message. And although I feel a glint of hope inside me, with the prospect of being parted from her a possibility, the look I give her is one of worry.

"Go," she gestures to me to go once more, smiling, and I reluctantly leave the room.

The path to the garden is not a tedious one. After descending down a set of stairs, I enter the common room and then head towards the exit, entering the visitor's centre. From the visitor's centre—which is currently empty—I walk through a vestibule, then leave the main entrance and turn right to the outdoors and walk a narrow path leading to the garden. A gust of tropical morning wind hits me as I go.

There used to be a backdoor from the common room out into the garden, but that section is being renovated currently. So instead, we have to go around this way.

As I walk along this narrow path, admiring a sparrow's nest tucked underneath the eaves of the building's rooftop, the vines to my right that have grown and sprouted up along the sidewalls of the building start to enchantedly move and tug at me, as if it had a life of its own. I see them curl and coil themselves around my right arm and right leg, causing me to trip but I use my other foot to break the potential fall. I feel the bristles of thin spikes and tiny prickly thorns almost penetrate and bury deep into my skin as it constricts my other limbs.

I start to whimper and groan, writhing and twisting my body, trying to escape, as the vines start to spread upwards onto my body, but my movements worsen the pain from the thorns, so instead, I stop to think.

I had just promised Ms Tina that I would control my emotions. But I now find myself entangled (literally) in this possibly life and death situation. I control the urge to get angry or scream. My groans start to amplify, but I stop myself immediately. Furthermore, I'm too much in fear to marvel at this magic in front of my eyes, although it is evidence that I'm not the only one with magical powers.

But what if I die right here, right now?

I ultimately decide that I will let go and release my powers only if I know I'm really about to die.

The coils of greeny vines start to wrap around my neck, but they don't suffocate me entirely. They just tighten to a certain extent, and then stop. From my neck downwards, I am coiled with vines, making me look like an Egyptian mummy with a perverse inclination into being wrapped in botanics.

Visible green spores start to release from the vines, and now I start to worry. Thinking I might die if I inhale them, I hold my breath for as long as I can.

After a minute, my brain eventually gives in, unable to last any longer, and I splutter and heave deeply. The spores taste like nothing, smells like nothing.

I then let out a scream—not to trigger my powers, but to ask for help. But the green glowing spores that I inhaled starts to make me drowsy. What I thought were screams instead sounded like how a puppy would sound like in pain and on the verge of death, whimpering pitifully for mercy.

My eyes start a war with me. I battle to stay awake but my eyes feel heavy. Everything becomes blurry and dreamy. Like I'm in a daze.

I hear something breaking to my right, and as I slightly turn my head to look, through my blurry peripheral vision, I notice the caricature of someone who looks like Mdm Matilda. She'd dropped a pot of plants.

She then starts prattling on—which now sounds like cadences of incoherent sounds—as she runs in my direction. The kids already in the lineup huddle and crowd around behind her to look at the commotion, then they all gasp and whisper to one another at the sight of me. A few of them start crying, confused by the sight.

I slowly start to lose consciousness entirely, conceding defeat to this mysterious drowsiness. I realise that I have no chance against this form of magic. This magic that is mastered, magic that is used as its caster's intended. Unlike mine, a chaotic mess that I cannot control.

Before I fall into a deep sleep that I do not know if I'll awake from, I turn my gaze, facing downwards because my head starts to loll. I see five pairs of feet suddenly appearing in front of me, but I do not have the strength to look up. Sleep calls, and I answer.

***

I only see darkness. I can't tell if I'm in a dream. But if I am, it's a weird one, because there are voices—most of them I don't recognize—talking in this dream.

"He is just a kid!"

"I know, we were mistaken."

"You tried to kill him.."

"It was a precautionary measure. We needed to know what we were up against."

"On behalf of my group, I apologize."

"I couldn't believe it at first, until I saw him. This boy."

"Still, I suggest you let us do the Initiation test on him."

I try to open my eyes, but I can't. I try to speak, but something stops me from doing so. I see a kaleidoscope of weird shapes and lines wavering over this eternal blackness.

"Is it safe?"

"Of course it is!"

"Will he be in danger?"

"No."

"It will help him. It will help us too."

"We already know he has magic. But the test will help us figure some things out."

"And then? After?"

"I think you know what comes after."

"No, I don't. Tell me."

"The best choice for him is to follow us. Because of his magic."

"And we will guide him."

"This is only if he passes this thing you guys call the Initiation test, right?

"Yes, but no doubt he will pass the initiation test with flying colours."

"How come?"

"Because apparently, he has magic, which we are still perplexed by."

"He's not supposed to have magic, by the way."

"You know this, right?"

"I don't—I don't think I understand what you mean."

"She means that there is no such thing as magic on Earth."

"Huh?"

"Our lore states that there's no magic on Earth."

"There's supposed to be no magic."

"But he has magic. Mdm Matilda and I have heard reports from the other kids of the few incidents where he used his magic."

"We know."

"How do you know?"

"Because she sensed it."

"You sensed it from your world?"

"Yes, I did. I actually sensed magic from two sources here on Earth. And they were very close apart. But the second source disappeared suddenly. I can't trace the other one anymore."

"C—Could it be—"

"—Ms Tina! Do not. He might be able to hear you."

"Actually, he cannot hear us. My Vinealyze puts him into an eternal sleep. Well, there are a few exceptions which he may be able to break from. But unless he is very powerful... And unless my Aura is completely depleted, he won't be able to even hear us."

"Truna, it's time to wake him up."

"..Fine."

I feel something engulf me. Suddenly, my limbs begin to feel. Sensation. I flicker my fingers and toes, as if a paralyzed bed bound patient miraculously gifted with movement again. I grasp the coverlets, the softness, silkyness of it, then slowly open my eyes.

Everything I see is doubled. My retinas adjust to the wincing light, and finally my vision focuses around the people in the room.

I see Ms Tina and Mdm Matilda, now accompanied with five other mysterious looking people in the room.

The five of them look at me intriguingly. Ms Tina, at the back, smiles very solemnly, with tears in her eyes. Mdm Matilda, as usual, looks impassive.

One of them, a beautiful and graceful young lady with short brown hair, with the visage of innocence, steps forward, smiles, and says very gleefully,

"Hi, my name's Syrene!"