Who am I?
Obviously, I was Tristan.
That was the name given to me by my birth parents. The name on my birth certificate. The name I write on every document I see.
But my birth parents had died.
So did the identity they gave me even matter?
Did anything matter?
'How troublesome…'
As I sat with Elliot, staring at the ocean in silence, I felt slightly annoyed.
On that particular day, he was being especially talkative.
He never used to open up like that.
'I'm afraid…really?'
Out of every human emotion, I hated fear the most.
Nothing good ever came from it.
Fear caused pain. It caused immaturity.
It caused idiocy.
It was particularly annoying when people only believed in something because of their fear of life's meaningless.
Such a belief was despicable.
However, now I was being accused of being the same way.
It forced me to think. To question myself.
To wonder…if I was really afraid?
And if I was, what exactly was I afraid of?
"I should get going. Mom might worry, you know how she is," I told Elliot after a few more moments of silence.
Ever since I was adopted, my current mom was pretty protective of me.
Not to the extent of tracking or constant calling, but she'd get needlessly worried if I wasn't home by a certain time.
"Alright, see you later," Elliot said, standing up and putting on his backpack.
Then, we did our handshake and went our separate ways.
We hadn't discussed it but it seemed Elliot was going to take the bus while I walked.
If that wasn't the case, we'd be going the same way.
I was fine with that.
It gave me more time to think about the newest book I read.
It was different from the usual fantastical books I read.
Instead, it was a book analyzing the tale of Icarus from Greek mythology.
According to the book, Icarus was the son of a master craftsman Daedalus and tried to escape imprisonment with the wings his father made.
But, because the wings were made of feathers and wax, when he flew too close to the sun they melted.
Causing him to fall into the sea and drown.
Apparently, Icarus was warned by his father to not fly too high or low, but it seems like the flight was so exhilarating Icarus ignored his father's words.
It was a tragic story of a fool.
Sure, that's true.
Even so, I took a liking to Icarus.
He was someone so reckless, so brave, that he was willing to chase the bliss of flight in exchange for his life.
To chase something, to pursue it, even if it caused you to suffer.
Most people could never do that.
'Hm…?'
While I walked, I noticed something.
It was a bird that had somehow got stuck in a bush.
The bird was clearly in pain, struggling in a pointless effort to escape.
I walked over to it and gently pulled the branches away, giving the bird enough room to fly out.
With a happy chirp, it flew out, never to be seen again.
And I continued walking.
There were plenty of things around me, and if I wanted, I could've described all of them in pretty precise detail.
But none of them mattered.
Nothing did.
So why would I pay attention to them?
Suddenly, my body slightly tensed.
'Red…'
One of the people who walked passed wore a dark red hoodie.
I hated that color.
It was the same as blood.
'Gross.'
Blood was a despicable thing.
It caused fear.
But more than that, I saw my parents covered in it when they died.
According to the police, my parents committed a double suicide.
They had called the police beforehand, seemingly to make sure I wasn't the one who found them.
But I had left school early to that day, and arrived home only moments before the police did.
I didn't know why they did what they did.
Nor did it matter.
'But…could I be wrong?'
Elliot had seen meaning in life. He believed we existed and impacted each other through design.
Soriel cared for others far more herself, seeing meaning in helping them.
Even Nishimoya had once prioritized her parent's happiness over her own.
They all, to some extent, assigned meaning to what they did.
But I never had.
Life had no meaning, so nothing I did had meaning either right?
No matter how many animals I saved, or books I had read, ultimately it meant nothing.
'Who decided that?'
At what point, did someone decide there was no meaning?
At what point, did I decide that?
'Oh, I'm here.'
Eventually, I reached my home, the one of my adopted parents.
I knocked and before long my mother opened the door.
"Good afternoon," I said.
"Good afternoon, how was your day?" My mother asked as I entered.
"Fine. Just like usual," I answered, taking off my coat and putting it on the hanging rack.
I took a moment to pet our cat, who we called Zi. Short for Zivan.
"Well okay…I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything," she replied.
I nodded and headed to my room.
It was kind of messy, things disorganized and cluttered.
I hadn't seen a point in cleaning it.
My family never really came in much in order not to bother me.
My non biological little brother and older sister were at their own extra curricular activities.
So, for a while I was usually alone.
With nothing to do, I just read.
But this time, I didn't bother changing out of my uniform or grabbing a book. Instead, I just sat down behind my door.
I sat there, in a calm silence.
'Does everything really have no meaning?'
I was so sure of it before, but at that moment, I wasn't.
Even though I knew my face held no reaction, I felt my heart race.
I felt…afraid.
Before I figured out what my future was, I needed to figure out what I believed.
And there, I realized something.
My parents were dead.
The biological ones at least.
And I disliked that.
Because, if nothing else, their lives meant something to…me.
Their deaths were not meaningless.
I had lost two people very dear to me.
I was no longer in middle school and I left behind many friends.
Those people were dear to me.
The cat I saved, the one I took in as my pet.
That cat was dear to me.
At school, I didn't even speak that much to the friends I still had.
And those friends…still cared for me.
Upon that realization, I wept.
I wept, for I was unable to contain my sorrow any longer.