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To Those Who Are Forgotten
"You live your life fully, without end, without borders, without boundaries, but remember us, know us, for we die being forgotten."
It was a rainy day, start of school in a small rural area of the States. It was college,teenagers go for the first day of class, hoping to change their lives fully, immerse themselves to college life. Others will go and have fun, getting laid, getting drunk, getting to parties. Others will go on and study, understanding that this is their future and they must work for it.
It was a rainy day, gloomy, filled with sadness, filled with loneliness. The classroom was quiet, new people, new faces. The teacher was late, the students tried talking to each other, with luck they found friends fast. The rain kept pouring though, no one cared, all of the students need friends to make their college life worthwhile.
The door opened to the class, they were quiet for a while. The students inspect the teacher, who was going to be their teacher for the semester. The teacher looked old, white hair, old tired eyes, wearing a black branded pair of glasses. He walked to the table, in front of the class, in a slow manner, carrying his book. Most of the students thought of him as boring, strict, or whatever else he could possibly be. With that the teacher introduced himself and the first class of the day started.
He was there, wearing his old blue-colored jacket, covering his face was its hoodie. He was unknown to most, probably to all. No one knew him no one dared to ask him. He was there sitting in the edge of the class, near the windows, in where he spectated the small droplets of rain pouring into the earth. The droplets stick to the glass windows slowly sliding down to oblivion, his thoughts part of the droplets.
The day dragged on, his life, particles of the broken pieces that he decided to piece over and call life. Is he really empty? What does it take for his life worthwhile? Most lived their lives without end, without boundaries, without borders to stop them doing whatever they want. His life, is with end, with boundaries, with borders, his life was always the one nearest to oblivion. So many reasons why people could exist, people could make their lives different, one that could actually be remembered. But his, his life was one worth forgotten, not worth remembered.
Is there a background to this man's story? Not much. Not that people know of it. The point was that he does not want his story to be remembered. Was it his choice? No one knows. No one dared to know. There was a reason to this, none really was interested to what he could say, he's not mute or anything, its just that people don't dare to listen.
People talk about him, occasionally, on how mysterious he is. People from his old high school, but now it was college he was new and some decided to actually notice him, remember him for at least that moment. One in particular was a girl named Claire. She decided to greet him right after the first class of the day, he greeted her back, with a smile. They talked for a few moments, about where their lockers could be, what was their old high school, how their lives were. The last topic was quite off, even for him, he can't say how was his life, not because he does not know her well enough, it was because of the fact that he can't. Words can't go out of his mouth when it comes to these, it was sealed, away and forever kept, for him and for everyone else.
After a moment, someone else caught Claire's attention, she said goodbye and met her old friends from her old school. And there he was, left alone, like his whole life has been.
The day continued on, as always, some people came over to greet him, some did more. He had a couple of students to talk to, and he enjoyed it. He had a couple of smiles and laughs on the way. The rain continued to pour, however, nothing was able to stop that. During lunch, he sat alone. He wore his earphones, listening to some things that could take him away, far away, into a place where there's only him and a place where he does not need to be remembered.
Everyone wants to be remembered, for something they have done, for the reason that they lived and died. No one wants to be forgotten.
The afternoon came, the cold breeze started to roll in, greeting the students, reminding them that a new season is coming, a season where the cold could take you into places of sadness and despair, where you can possibly be locked in your house for days without end. A season to forget. The weather is not changing for the better, rain continued to pour, every small drop.
The start of the afternoon was different. The afternoon started slow, and it continued to drag out. The weather started to turn out for the worse. In the afternoon, most of the students started to skip out class, some were just not there, they were somewhere else, but him, he was never there. During the afternoon, no one really talked to him, simple greetings, yes, there were some, but talk, none.
A class day was over, he decided to head home, through the rain. The rain was getting thicker and thicker, vision started to lessen, the storm was upon the land. He kept walking through the storm, it was dangerous especially that time. Cars, going past through the highways, he kept going, like there was no other choice. The day was getting darker and darker, the rain pouring harder and harder. Then from a distant, a car going out of control, running towards him. The lights of the car, of the unstoppable object, hit his face, for a moment, he was scared, then after, he felt nothing. His body broken, lying down the road, his eyes, empty, staring towards the sky, he was dead.
The reality of it, he died a long time ago. His story was never published by life, so we was dead, ever since he was forgotten. It was years ago when his life was forgotten even by his own self. The day when his parents were murdered, cold-blooded inside their own house. He had no idea why, but humans tend to take other's lives for the sake of their own. It was an act of selfishness. His body was kept, stunned in a corner, looking at his parents dead body. That day, that moment he was dead. It was ages ago, when he decided to be forgotten, he lived life, empty, no one actually thought of putting some sense, some life into him, because no one really cared, no one really remembers.
Everyone wants to be remembered. Even him. He tried, no matter how many times he did, he was not remembered. He was human, he was alive, moments ago, ages ago, years ago. The only thing that humans actually remember is their own lives, not others'. We all want to be remembered, forever, endlessly.
The rain later on slowed down, vision was up again, with that vision, people used it to look at a scene where there was a car, a dead boy, and an ambulance. A girl, saw that scene, she looked at it with sadness, but when she saw the victim, she felt different. She felt something else, she feels that she remembers. It was that moment in their life that changed her. She didn't remember his name, she did not know her story, but what mattered to her, is that she remembers.