Eric's eyes flew open, gasping for air. He was looking up at the ceiling, his arm reaching out.
"Eric, are you all right?"
His eyes glanced to the side; it was Arop, standing with bags full of supplies.
Eric nodded as he sat up, rubbing his face.
"Do you normally scream in your dreams?" Arop asked.
"N-no…was it loud?"
"Yes, it was…very loud."
Eric sighed.
"Where did you find those supplies?" he asked, gesturing to the bags.
"I managed to break into a storage room while you were sleeping…here."
Arop knelt down, searched through the bags, and pulled out a white towel, tossing it to Eric.
"Take it. You're sweaty."
Eric touched his face and shirt, and indeed he was sweaty.
He began drying himself off as Arop sat beside him on the bench. The white, cool fabric brushed across his face, calming him.
"Let's just relax a bit. You need it."
Eric sighed, resting his arms on his knees.
The cold air in the mall seemed to vanish, leaving Eric to deal with his restless heat, still plaguing his body. Even though the cold was no longer there, he still shivered. His body was unfamiliar with the trauma, but his mind wasn't. He could still feel the undead gnawing at his flesh, tearing it away with an unsettling look of joy on their faces. But he couldn't bring himself to hate or fear them. Instead, what he felt was pity, along with sympathy and empathy. Images of the people he'd seen flashed in his mind, from the dancing children to the sufferers. Even though he'd escaped the nightmare, Eric could still feel them, their weight immense, clinging to his heart, squeezing it. He gasped for air. Arop looked over at him, concerned, but Eric managed to steady his breathing.
There was one thing Eric failed to understand: why was this all happening to him? What great sin had he committed to cause people he didn't even know to haunt him in his dreams? Why, why, why, why, he asked himself, but he was left without an answer. Then the question shifted from why is this happening to me to why can't I do anything. Eric was hit with a realization. Every time he tried to be the person he always wanted to be, some intangible force stopped him from even taking the first step. It was as if every time he walked, he stayed in the same spot, and every time he ran forward toward his ideal, there was an unbreakable wall pushing him back to where he'd started. And no matter how hard he resisted or pushed forward, the wall refused to break. And as he eventually grew tired of trying, the wall would still push him back until he had no control over where he was going or what was happening around him—like a small fish being pulled and pushed by a raging current, unsure of its fate.
As he sat on the bench, trapped in his sea of thoughts, two questions stood out to him. Can I really go against the tide of destiny? Can I really break through the wall and go as far as I want to go? He asked himself these questions over and over, without giving himself an answer. Because that answer would end everything for him—nothing would ever be the same again. No matter what, he couldn't embrace Arop's ideology; he couldn't stop striving forward, because if he stopped believing in his ideal, even once, he would die. He had to keep struggling; he didn't get to dictate his luck, because at the end of the day he was a struggler, an ordinary person who was part of a far greater narrative. And so he made a promise to himself—no more complaining. Even if it hurt, even if he might die trying, he would come back, over and over and over, no matter what, until his dream could finally be fulfilled.
Eric looked over at Arop, who seemed lost in thought, staring up at the ceiling window, completely still, as if he was just as lost in his mind as Eric was. Then he muttered, "It's almost time."
Almost time for what? Eric wondered. Suddenly Arop came back to reality, turning to face him.
"Are you feeling better?"
"A little."
Eric tried to extend his legs, but they trembled violently. Mustering all his strength, he attempted to stand up, only to feel a tight grip on his shoulder pulling him back down.
"Where are you going? Sit."
"I'm fine. We can't be here too long," Eric said, still trying to get up.
"Are you dumb? You're not going to get far."
Eric glanced at Arop, only to see an annoyed expression on his face. Averting his eyes, he got up and shakily walked away. His legs felt like two unstable structures, ready to give out at any moment. Arop's earlier question rang in his mind: are you dumb. Maybe I am. But I don't want to accept my own weakness anymore. If I stop, and stop, and stop again, when will I ever surpass who I am now? he thought. Eric looked back at Arop, who was already following him. Feeling the need to prove Arop wrong, he began walking faster. His wobbly legs still wobbled along, but Eric ignored them and stared straight ahead. He didn't know where he was going, but he trusted himself to figure it out. Feeling emboldened, Eric began to run. As soon as he took his fourth step, his legs gave out and he crashed to the ground. As if out of nowhere, Arop appeared by his side, putting his arm over Eric's neck to help him up.
"You know, Eric, I found out something new about you. You're stubborn," Arop said, his annoyed expression vanishing like a phantom, replaced by an amused smile.
Eric didn't respond, too embarrassed and frustrated to. He clenched his teeth.
They sat back on the bench, staring at a dusty painting across from them. The painting showed a lush green mountain, full of trees and tall grass, overlooking a vast blue sea. But Eric was too distracted by his own failure to appreciate the artwork. He stared down at his trembling legs and thought, I failed again. Then a vast blackness spread through his mind. Eric couldn't think or feel anything; it was as if time had completely stopped, leaving him wallowing in his own failure.
"Have you ever seen the sea before?"
Eric turned to Arop and replied.
"Yes."
"How did the sand and the sea feel? Is it really salty?"
Eric recalled the memory of him and his cousins playing in the sand and building sandcastles. He remembered floating in the water as tiny waves pushed and pulled his body. All he could hear was the soothing hymn of the sea as he stared up at the vast, bright blue sky, at peace. Those were the days when he wasn't burdened by the weight of his ideals. A life of pure bliss, not knowing anything, simply being one with life's peace.
"The sand was soft, softer than mud, and the sea water was cool, and yes, it really is salty."
There was a brief pause before Eric added.
"Have you never seen the sea before?"
Arop shook his head.
"No, not really. I've only seen the sea in movies and videos. I've never seen it with my own eyes."
"How come? Don't you travel?"
"No. My whole life I've lived in Bentiu. Anything I know or have seen of the outside world, I've seen from movies, videos, and textbooks."
"Really?" he asked, shocked.
Arop nodded.
Eric imagined himself in Arop's place—a life of fear, of trauma, of captivity. Breath escaped his lungs as he desperately imagined smashing his face against the bars of his cell, his heart pounding, desperately trying to somehow slip past those bars and be free. But no matter how much he wished to be free, he could only wish, because he knew his destiny. Eric quickly pulled himself out of the thought; he didn't have the courage to face it. He turned to Arop and asked.
"Don't you want to see the sea with your own eyes?"
"Yes, of cou—"
"Then stop believing in your foolishness. You can be free, Arop. You can go wherever you want and do whatever you want. You can travel, play soccer. If you're good enough, you can even play for the country. If you don't want to do that, you can go to a bigger city, or another country, get an education, make money, and have as many women as you want, Arop. You have the ability to be free. You can be free, because you're alive, you're human, your heart is beating—and because of that, you're free. You've been free since the moment you became a living being. Why are you taking your god-given freedom and throwing it away for your bullshit philosophy? You said you want to see the ocean—that means you want to be free. All you have to do is abandon your philosophy; that's all you really need to do, Arop. If you do, you can fall in love with Lady Nature again."
Arop chuckled, smiling at Eric.
"Lady what?"
Eric looked down at his hands and realized he was gripping Arop by the collar, holding him at the edge of the bench. Eric slowly let go, his hands shaking.
"Lady Nature. Is that the name of your goddess?" he said, grinning at Eric.
"You're dodging the question. Why won't you live?"
Arop paused, exhaling.
"I can't. I told you half a lie. Once, in a different timeline, I honestly believed in the revolution; in another I didn't, and I valued my siblings above everything else; in another I tried a different route, escaping with them and trying to find a better life—but tragedy always struck, and timeline after timeline I was stuck trying to escape the agent of Lady Destiny, until I finally gave in and did what she wanted me to do."
Eric could feel rage burning inside him. He was tired of Arop's nonsense. To him, this was Arop's way of deflecting his efforts and trying to consume him with his own philosophy.
"Stop telling me your parables and just listen to me."
"They won't just be parables if you actually listen."
Eric went quiet.
"Have you ever heard the quote, everyone is a slave to something?"
He looked over at Eric, who didn't respond.
"Of course you have. Then this should be easier for you to understand…Eric, do you love anything or anyone? Are you loyal to anyone or anything—so loyal you'd do absolutely anything to keep it? Most people are charmed and swear their loyalty to something that brings them happiness. Like a lover, money, or even a leader they see as a god, a leader who never fails in his endeavors and always chases his dream. As a result, his men idolize him, women flock to him, charmed by the qualities that make him who he is. You see, Eric, the thing that drives people to serve something is love and lust—those are the two main forces that tie a person to something. And those are the things that enslave people. But of course there are other things that enslave people too, such as greed, gluttony, wrath, and pride. Pride is the concept that comes with the most freedom, but the pain that comes with it is enormous. I learned that firsthand.
"…Listen, Eric, all of these concepts are her agents, her puppets, which she uses to bend humanity to her will. And even if you abandon everything that makes you human, even if you throw away every attachment to this world, it's all part of Lady Destiny's story. Me, you, my sister, Akeer, and everybody else—we're all just characters in a story, trying our best to follow the goddess's will. Do you understand now? There's nothing you or I can do to set us free."
Eric gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and said,
"There is no Lady Destiny."
"Still in denial. Well, you'll find out for yourself soon enough."
"Arop, if you're trying to say I'm weak and can't hope to prove you wrong, you're right. I know my weaknesses better than anyone else does. But despite all that, I can't help but dream—dream of a future where I'm not weak, dream of a future where I've made a world where I and my loved ones can be happy. I dream of a future me, a person armored by his values and philosophy, running past his adversities and shattering the thing you call destiny again and again. That's the person I aspire to be one day, because I can't think of a worse life than living a meaningless one."
Silence quickly filled the space between them as Eric stared down at his still-clenched hand.
"I too once dreamed of being that person," Arop said, breaking the silence.
Eric looked at Arop, then averted his eyes, clenching his fist.