Chapter One: My Worship
"Am I really back?" Damian asked, staring into the mirror at the college restroom. It was the end of the first day, and he was alone.
He remembered this day, even after all these years. He had come early because he was nervous about getting lost, arriving with his only friend. It had happened almost the same way...
He'd woken up at five in the morning, even though his friend hadn't lived with him for years. So... he almost attacked him.
The good thing was that, during his first year, Damian had also lived with his brother and at that time, his brother had been in another country. If Damian hadn't spent years praying every single day, he might have lost his mind.
He delayed returning to the apartment, unsure of how to act around them. He had never been close to his brother, and it had been two years since he'd last seen his friend. He didn't want their interactions to feel different, but his feelings had changed.
He couldn't stand his "friend" Fausto. Damian didn't wish harm on him, but he also wouldn't warn him if he were about to suffer. He believed Fausto wasn't a bad person yet, and maybe he didn't have to become one.
When he finally returned to the apartment, nothing had changed.
Damian hoped someone would ask him about his behavior, about what was going on in his head. But no one did. He was... alone.
Less alone than before, perhaps, but still alone. When he was younger, it hadn't hurt so much. Back then, he had his God and right now, that was enough.
— — —
Damian was waiting for his fried chicken when someone spoke to him.
"Are you okay?"
After a month, an unknown girl had said something to him.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. While he thought she was the first person who asked.
She stepped closer to him. "Are you sure? You look sad."
"No, I'm just thinking. It's not a big deal," Damian said with a smile. She looked familiar somehow.
They talked until his food was ready. He said goodbye, and though he was still sad, it wasn't like before because Damian was trying to be a good man for his God.
He hadn't received another message, so he kept doing good things; waiting, either for another message or to wake up from this strange dream. Things were going fine... until he got home.
He was about to eat when he noticed something in his hand. A yellow paper, with a strange smell. That smell. He froze, staring at the note. For a second, he wondered if he was schizophrenic.
He stared at the paper for a long time, until Fausto walked into the apartment. Damian quickly stuffed the note into his pocket before Fausto said something.
"What's that smell?" Fausto waved his hand in front of his nose, then locked eyes with Damian. "Fuck, did you shit yourself or something?"
"Fuck off. It smelled like this when I got here," Damian said, heading to the bathroom to grab some air freshener and spraying the kitchen.
"Of course," Fausto muttered as he crossed the kitchen and entered the bedroom where the three of them slept. Meanwhile, Damian shut himself in the bathroom and stared at the note again.
It read:
Touch of Death
A year later, it will die. Can be used eleven times.
Method: Shake hands and say, "I hope the best for you."
Mission: Choose one within three days.
Damian stared at it, then decided to destroy it. He ran water over the note in the washbasin and walked away to finally eat his cold meal.
"Are you okay? You've just been staring into space," Fausto asked. When he noted that Damian was not touching his food.
Damian looked at him for a moment.
"Nothing. I was just thinking about how I'm gonna pass this class. Maybe I should sell my soul or something," he said, laughing.
I guess I've found a way to show my worship, he thought.
* * * * * * * * *
I was wondering when this book will start reaching people. I guess it at least needs its tenth chapter, and I still have a long way to go.