The Wheel of Fate Begins to Roll

Today there was a beautiful sun in the garden, the cypresses stood tall like huge fires, the wind moved their branches, making it seem like a fire raging high in the sky. Kim was close to me again today, playing with the soil, moving it around, then stopping to look around before resuming. I collected the stones nearby to prevent him from doing something dangerous with them, nevertheless, his most transgressive behavior was limited to throwing soil at me and laughing. When Petrus laughs, I feel good, I know he is happy, I know that at least for him, there is no suffering at that moment.

Spring, given the circumstances, brings us happiness. Finally, we can leave the white halls and enjoy the fresh air. Of course, this wasn't the case for everyone, like the nurses who had to chase after Park. From afar, you could hear the shouts, some angry, some tired, others looking weary. Park had managed to steal something new again, and it was incredible how he could do it every time. Judging by the three nurses chasing him in the garden, it must have been something potentially dangerous, considering the place we were in, we could think of scissors or even a stupid rolling pin.

The shouts were getting closer and closer, the smile on my face grew bigger and bigger, while Kim looked scared and frightened, barely holding back tears. He had stopped playing.

Park, a decidedly chubby boy, ran with a smile, as if he hadn't had fun like this in years, it was unbelievable. He passed just a few meters in front of us, running like a marathon runner. I would have never been able to catch him. He was the fastest in the institute, and the absurd thing was that his chubby build didn't hinder him from running like a seasoned marathon runner.

Kim started playing again, the show in spring was quite normal, as if to say "same shit, different day," and I fully agreed with him. This race created conflicting emotions in me. On one hand, I smiled as I saw Park running happily and carefree, but on the other hand, I felt saddened by what life could give to such a young boy. But as my doctor, Yukino, often says, don't live in the anguish of the future, but live in a present made of what the present is.

The shouts were becoming more and more like white noise, a sweet and relaxing sound. Kim had been playing again for some time now, in that solitary and distant game, in which there was a solitary happiness.In that wind that blew gently but still cool, I lost myself looking at the panorama again, with the sun gently warming me. It was there that I noticed something unusual, something out of the ordinary. The garden seemed to be a green sea, with waves formed by the wind that stood out in this emerald expanse, and amidst it all, there was a hunched figure with a strange notebook. Raven-black hair fell gently down to his shoulders, while a lock covered his eyes softly from his forehead. Slender hands moved obsessively, oblivious to the loud shouts that loomed behind him.

I was intrigued by that solitary and mysterious figure. In this small community, we all know each other more or less, but I was sure I had never come across him before.

My steps, crushing the newly sprouted young grass, created a melody along with the low-flying wind among the garden grass, then rising and colliding against the dry branches of the old cypresses. I was fairly certain that I was making enough noise for him to hear me, yet he didn't turn around, nor did he show any change in his behavior. He seemed completely absorbed in his drawing. Thin bones could be seen protruding from his shirt, yet there was something attractive about his dedication to that drawing. The pencils beside him were swayed by the wind, and one seemed determined to venture out on its own, rolling away with each passing gust, gradually distancing itself.

And so, I surpassed Seto, increasing my pace to try to catch the runaway pencil. I bent down to pick it up and quickly turned around, clumsily trying to return that little gem.

That's when our gazes met, his timid eyes looking at me somewhat frightened by my sudden entrance. I have always wondered how my eyes appeared to him at that moment. I felt blood rush to my ears and cheeks, overwhelmed by his inquisitive and scared gaze, but before I could break that visual connection, he was the one who averted his gaze. My pale hand was about half a meter away from him, clutching the pencil.

He finally realized my friendly gesture, the tension at once eased, and as if the air that had initially felt extremely heavy and weighed us down had become light as a feather. Seto smiled and approached his hand to mine, which opened like a flower in spring, revealing a hidden treasure, the elusive pencil.

Our gazes met again, and from the disappeared fear, a new feeling appeared. Seto started laughing, and then with a quick and gentle gesture, he thanked me loudly.Judging by his youthful face, he must have been around twenty years old. Inside of me, I fervently wished to talk with another young human being, someone who didn't have twice my years and therefore didn't speak as if life were already over, or worse, as if they knew everything about life, while you, poor soul, are just ignorant on the matter. I had longed for a companion in adventures, the kind you can only find in novels, someone like Peter Pan ready to whisk away his Wendy.

I truly hoped to sweeten the apathy of monotonous days, in these days my small act of rebellion was to forget what day it was, but it was often the nurses who reminded me that a week had already passed. For them, weekends still meant something, going out, having fun, drinking, and perhaps getting to know young men with whom to return home if desired. For me, however, the weekend was just like any other day.

And then the intrusive thoughts would come:

“Furthermore, who ends up in a clinic at eighteen years old, in the prime of youth? I should be out there! Going to university, hanging out with my friends, going shopping, finding a boyfriend, fighting for my place in this crazy society that never stops! And instead, I ended up in here, saying goodbye to nights out, boys, and my friends."

How difficult it was to counter those thoughts, they seemed like truths written on the stone tablets of the Ten Commandments brought down by Moses. I sighed heavily, unable to think of anything else and ready to let myself be overwhelmed by sadness. The only way I knew to get through those moments was to let myself go into a hysterical crying fit until my head hurt, and then I was finally free from those thoughts.

However, on that day, there was another human being with me between the sky and the earth. Seto. His dark eyes had a kind look, and his hair smelled like the inside of my house in late August, when we harvested lavender and put it in small glass vases to dry. So, I decided that those eyes shouldn't see me cry, not yet. In those eyes, I wanted to appear beautiful and radiant, not pathetic and fragile.

Seto was looking at me with a certain amused and fascinated expression as I entered. His smile created small dimples near his cheeks. We introduced ourselves with a sense of happiness, and I expected some kind of suspicion. Instead, I found a calm and open person. Oh, how prejudices can condition life.

I was very curious to find out why such a guy had ended up in such a place, but before I could formulate a question that could quench my curiosity, I reflected that the same could apply to me. I immediately realized that these were questions I didn't want to answer at all.It was then that I finally noticed his drawing.

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