Natic Incorporated

Throughout the world's history there has always been a select few individuals blessed with the power of controlling a mass of currency far beyond the norm. Dynastic families, royal bloodlines, the Robber Barons, and so on, creating their own industrial empire. One of these few rose to power in the mid 21st century with the most powerful app scam in history, while leeching off of the world's greatest rising addictions, after the Alcohol Public Ban Act in 2030 led millions to resort to the next legal drug, THC. These two companies, Natic Cash, and Legal Hemp Incorporated (LHI) accumulated enough money to control roughly 15% of the United States economy and controlled around 56% of all hemp products, including medical weed, and hemp products for everyday use. But this number later rose up to 96% after he illegally added a new drug roughly 10x more potent called Melancholite in 2033. His name was John M Natic.

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John and his new assistant Alexandra were stationed at the 99th floor of the LHI building, one of the tallest buildings in the world, second only to the Natic building right beside it in New York. John had built the LHI building to be dominant to his competitors before his business became a monopoly, and later built the Natic building taller, simply because he could. After all he had to put no effort into either building, just money, the one thing he had that could seemingly control everything. 

“Your podcast goes live in five minutes.”Alexandra says in a rush. John was stationed looking out the window to the Natic building. He looked angry, and somewhat reluctant. John had hated these podcasts ever since he had started his first business, especially when he was forced to go against his beliefs in money, fame, and control. This particular podcast made him go against his belief in power. He was about to be forced to state his thoughts on the new 28th Amendment to help close the wage gap, and would force him to have at least 30% of women in all levels of his workforce. Something that seemed bare minimum, but John Natic completely resented it. But the podcast would give him a good look in the media, so he went along with it.

“Well then!” John put on a fake smile, “We should get going shouldn’t we.” something about his voice and the way he looked felt off to Alexandra. A feeling she always felt while in his presence.

“Perfect!” Alexandra said as they made their way to the 73rd floor. A floor specifically designed to look perfect to the media. The right color, the right shape, and the right height. Any lower and the other skyscrapers around it would look too tall, and any higher the view of the city would be obstructed by clouds.

The cameras were waiting for John’s arrival, and he had about fifteen assistants ready to do anything he wanted at his word. They were all men. “We are going live in two minutes,” one camera man says.  

 “No,” John interrupts the man, “we go live when I say we go live. Got it!” He was mad for seemingly no reason, after all the camera man had only been doing his job, and certainly shouldn't have offended John, but John Natic wasn’t normal by any standards. Certainly being the richest man in the world had some effect on his humanity, right?

“I’m sorry Mr. Natic. It won't happen again.” The camera man had assumed a posture much like a soldier that had gone to boot camp.

“Good” John said as one assistant takes the camera man out of the podcast room and gets instantly replaced by another. 

“Permission to go live sir,” the new cameraman says with the same posture as the last. It was as if all the people in the room had become robots, programmed to serve one master, diminished of their self worth. 

“Permission granted.” The lights turn on and the camera starts rolling and his assistant Alexandra takes a seat right next to John. “Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen!” John put on a fake smile, but it blended into his royal posture and his condescending looks enough for the public to assume everything was alright. “I would like to introduce you to the founder of the Equal Employment Amendment, Kate Livingston!” sound effects of clapping start playing and Kate Livingston walks into the room with the only real looking smile John had seen this entire day.

“Heyyy!” Kate Livingston says as she takes a seat around six feet away from John and his assistant. For a second she bought John Natic’s respect, something he hated to give as it made him jealous. For a split second she could see a violent man’s expression come off of his face, a look that was a little more authentic to John’s personality. 

“So Kate, what brings you here today,” John says.

“Im here to address your positioning in the new 28th amendment,” Mrs. Livingston says, still with that one real smile John despised. She was the only one in the room that still had their humanity intact, which John had only ever enjoyed seeing with a few people in his life.

“Ahh, yes.” He smiled with his face but not his eyes. “Throughgout my life and my time working in this industry, I have seen countless instances of unruly, and unjust behavior from men, and quite frankly, it hurts to watch.”

“I am very glad to hear that, Mr. Natic,” Mrs. Livingston says.

“And for that reason, I would like to announce that I will be firing one of my hiring managers that has been reported to be biased toward hiring men instead of being equal,” John says. This statement was entirely untrue, but will later be handled by someone who had enough power in the company to do so. This split second decision would also ruin an innocent man’s chances to get a job any higher up the ladder than a job at a call center with grey walls and a boring desk used by many before him, but that thought would have never crossed John Natic’s mind and he most certainly wouldn't have felt bad for doing so.

“Oh god. I mean the audacity that some men have is just unbelievable.” John gives Mrs. Livingston a fake nod of approval. “I would also like to address a more important topic”

John scoffs. “What? I’m sorry I–”

“According to countless studies and complaints, your other company Natic Cash has been charging users hidden fees that exceed the benefits from the app. Studies also have shown that poverty rates after downloading the app skyrocket to about 5 times the standard.” Mrs. Livingston interrupts. John’s fake smile turned into shock. He had never been disrespected like that in years.

“Play commercial! NOW!” Alexandra yells to the crowd of camera men and assistants. Alexandra looks at Mrs. Livingston with anger and confusion, as if she were thinking, Why would she do that? John takes on a serious expression and stares directly at Mrs. Livingston.

“No. Just end the podcast entirely. Say it was due to a medical emergency.” The room followed his orders. “Ohh, and I want the room. Just me Kate and…” He looks around the room until he lays eyes on a man with decently sized arms and about six feet tall, “you.” The room follows his orders and leaves John, Kate Livingston, and the other man alone. “Alright!” John’s smile could obviously be seen through and his built up anger and unsteadiness could be felt from a mile away. “You put on quite the show just now. Didn’t you?” a look of confusion came off of Mrs. Livingston’s face, she had no clue what John would do to her just now, and that scared her.

“Fuck you!” Mrs. Livingston says, holding back her confusion. “You ruin people’s lives, make people lose their houses, put people on the streets."

John chuckles. ”Wrong! They put themselves on the streets. My app just gives them more incentive. It takes away the comfort they don’t deserve.” John says this as he walks around the room toward the other man that was standing in an upright, proper posture. “I’ll give you a second chance to fix your mistakes. Since, you know, we just met, and you probably don’t know how things work around here.”

“No! I won’t stop until the world sees how much of a mess up you are! You’re a god damn fucking monster!” Mrs. Livingston was furious, an emotion John had rarely ever seen since he became an adult, but he was left unfazed and acted like it never happened. But it did happen, and Mrs. Livingston had far crossed the line for John. John shifted his focus to the man he had kept in the room.

“So tell me. What’s your name sir,” John said. The man was filled with fear, but tried his best not to let John see it.

“My name is Jack sir. One of your body guards.” 

John smiled. “So Jack! Would you say you are loyal to this company?” John’s tone became menacing, and controlling.

“Yes sir.” Jack’s face began to sweat.

“So you would do anything for me. Right?” John looked at him right in the eyes.

“Yes sir,” Jack repeated. His voice began to tremble.

“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” John patted him on the back, and scorned . “I want you to execute code orange.” 

Jack’s body trembled at the phrase, “code orange”, coming out of John's mouth. There was nothing he could do but follow his orders. “Are you sure sir?” He said.

“Yes I am fucking sure!” John screamed at him. Jack jumped inside of his own skin. Then he reluctantly walked over to Mrs. Livingston. She was frightened and confused. Her skin was dripping in sweat. Her pupils were dilated. And she was slowly backing towards the wall behind her, away from Jack.

“Please!” Mrs. Livingston said, almost crying. “I have a family!” Jack was now only six feet away from her, and Mrs. Livingston had completely backed up towards the wall. Then he was five feet away, then four, then three, then two, and one. “No!” Jack raised his trembling fist, looked at John who was across the room, smiling. Then his fist came down with a thud. The thud was followed by a scream.

The crowd of assistants outside of the room could hear Jack's punches being thrown. Thump, Thump, Thump. They had been listening to the action, and the poor woman’s screams for about a minute and a half before they finally stopped. Nobody made a sound, but the room was far from silent, it was practically howling with fear, nobody knew what was going on, but they all knew what had happened. John Natic had killed Kate Livingston. 

John walked out of the podcast room and to the nearest bathroom. He looked into the mirror and saw his face. It didn't have the slightest scratch on it. There was no blood on his suit, no bruises on his body. He was unscathed. But when he looked at his hands, they were shaking. He turned on the water and splashed some on his face. He felt ashamed of what he had done, killing a person. His guilt turned into a feeling he had been more accustomed to, he felt weird. A sudden, intense feeling of fear, and discomfort consumed him. His pupils dilated and he started to gasp for air. He began to panic. For a moment he was human. Until his father’s beliefs, that had been beaten into him so harshly, began to echo inside his mind. The belief that money was the only thing that mattered. Shut up! He thought to himself. Stop being so fucking pathetic! He raised his fist, and slammed it across his face as hard as he could. He did this again. And again. And again. Until his fists throbbed in pain. He had always hated his father, especially after things got bad with money while he was still a child. His father had blamed him for everything. For making him spend his money, for taking time out of his day, and for supposedly ruining his life. His father beat him for it ever since he could walk. That's why John had grown up prioritizing money over everything, no matter how many lives he had ruined, even his own. He had become his father, beating out the kid in him that just wanted to be nice to everybody. He had become the pursuit of money, he had become greedy, he had become nothing but his own two companies. Any humanity in him was buried like a needle in a haystack. He looked in the mirror again. He saw the outline of a human, just a mindless body. But that was what he wanted. Then he ordered his makeup staff to hide his bruises.

One of John’s assistants walked into the makeup room. “Sir, your wife is outside the building. She would like a word.”

“Tell her I’ll be down in a minute,” John replied. His bruises were almost completely covered. 

“It will be done sir.” His assistant shortly after walked out of the room. 

After he was done hiding his bruises, he made his way to the elevator and went to the first floor where his wife, Clara, was waiting for him. He reminisced about the comfort waiting for him at the bottom floor. If John's humanity was buried in him like a needle in a haystack, Clara would be the needle. He was exhausted. He dreamt about going on vacation with Clara. He decided that's what he would do, he needed an escape from this day and all the horrible things that came with it.

As he reached the first floor a crowd of bodyguards surrounded him and brought him outside where his wife Clara had been waiting for him. Clara looked uneasy, like she had done something terribly wrong. And her  uneasiness only worsened when her eyes met John.

John walked up to her and smiled as if nothing had happened. But yet it was a real smile. “Hey baby.” John looks at Clara’s eyes and sees her distress. “What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Nothing.” Clara’s eyes stared blankly through John. “Just work.”

John gave her a look of confusion. “Do you want to talk about it?” John asked concerningly.

“Later. Maybe.” Clara looked at John with emptiness, and resentment as if she knew John was a monster.

“Alright,” John said to Clara caringly. “Well I've been thinking, since I’ve been caught up with work and stuff and you are too. We should go on a vacation. Do you think that would help?”

Clara thought. “Uhh… Yeah. Sure,” Clara looked reluctant, but she loved John, so she decided to go with him anyway. “When will we leave?”

“We can go right now. I'll get my men to take us to our yacht. We don't even have to choose where to go, they can decide.” John said with a smile.

“Perfect,” Clara said, and then decided to smile with him.

Afterwards, John alerted one of his bodyguards to arrange a car ride to the yacht, and about a few moments later the car was ready for them to board. John and Clara got into the car. As they drove John couldn’t help but notice that the car was annoyingly silent. As he thought of something to say, John caught a glimpse of a teen that had fallen on the ground, his bones sticking out of his body, surrounded by a pool of blood, right under a 15 story building. The teenager was also surrounded by a crowd of cops and an ambulance. John couldn't help but notice a small vaping device that had “LHI” written on the front of it. John knew what that meant. The kid had bought his product. This thought would have no significance if it was just any normal weed product. But John knew. John knew that it was laced with melancholite. John knew that the laced wax inside could cause someone to go suicidal. John knew that his product had taken the life of that kid, and he knew that that won’t be the last life he takes. He looks over at Clara. Clara’s face was filled with fear. Not fear of the dead teen, but the fear of John. That's how John knew that she knew. She knew everything.

Instantly after John’s moment of realization, his heart sank to the very bottom of his stomach. His heart began to race in fear of what she would do. Would she leave me? He thought. His mind raced with the possibilities of what Clara would do.

“John? Is everything alright?” Clara said. John hadn’t even realized that his panicking was causing him to sweat and hyperventilate. 

 “Yeah. Everything's fine.” John replied in hope that she would believe him. 

As they passed further through the city, John came across a billboard with his face stamped on it with a big white smile, and the words “LegalHemp.Inc, Now Twice As Strong” spread across the billboard. John looked at Clara to see if she had seen the billboard too, and she had. She was staring at it with the same blank, hollow expression. Clara shifted her vision to John and saw that he was now almost completely losing it. Clara ignored this and looked away again.

John endured around ten more minutes of panicking before the car came to a stop at the dock. John, Clara, and a few body guards that were waiting for his arrival made their way to the yacht. They boarded it in an awkward silence.

After they boarded an assistant walked up to John and Clara. “Would you two like any water?” He said. Clara shook her head no. 

“Yes please,” John said. He was uncomfortably hot and sweating. The assistant walked over to the kitchen and grabbed him some water. John chugged it instantly and gave the glass back to the assistant.

Clara looked at him with confusion. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked.

“Yes I'm sure.” John replied.

“You don’t look fine.” Clara objected. “Can we talk?”

John’s heart stopped. “Yeah! Sure!” He gulped.

“Alright” Clara responded. “Can everyone leave, please.” The bodyguards and assistants left the deck of the yacht and went inside. 

John looked like a ghost. “What is it?” He asked.

“I know what you did to make LHI a monopoly,” Clara said to him.

John tried to look confused, “Wha–”

“Don’t lie to me John! I know what you did!” Clara’s words sent a shock through John’s spine. “I know you used melancholite! I overheard you talking about it on the phone with one of your sales men.” Clara looked infuriated and sad, but John had no words.  “Why! Why did you lace it! You know what it does! You’re killing people!”

John hesitated, he needed to find a way to get her back on his side, but he couldn't find one. “They’re just– They’re just people.”

This made Clara even more furious. “You don’t understand! I’m not worried about the people! I don’t know any of them! I am worried that I married a monster!” Tears began to trickle down Clara’s face. “I always hated your way of! But this! This is different! This is just wrong!”

John tried to get a word out. “Sorry I–”

“Don’t give me your apology!” Clara’s voice began to tremble, and John's eyes started to tear up, but not enough to cry. “I want you to fix this now!”

John thought “I can’t. It’s not that simple.” He said.

Clara looked at John. Confused, angry, and sad. Clara wanted to change John’s mind. But John was too far gone, his humanity was buried too deep, and Clara couldn't dig it out of him. “No! It is that simple! You don’t have to be this way! Money isn’t the only thing that matters.” Clara explains.

“I’m sorry” John’s feelings began to fade. He had been pushed beyond his limit. His voice felt numb and hollow.

“John please! I can’t live like this anymore! I can’t live like a monster!” Clara's eyes were bloodshot red and tears had covered her face. John was staring blankly, away from Clara. 

“I said I was sorry. I can’t change anything,” John said with no emotion.

“John!” Clara begged.

John stared blankly at the horizon. The sun was slowly setting. “It’s been a long day. I think you should get some rest. We can figure things out tomorrow.”

Clara’s face lost all of its emotion after she realized there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t convince him to put someone above money. It was simply impossible for her to. She had succumbed to this life. Married to a monster and forced to become one herself. She needed to find a way out of this way of life, but the only way she could leave it, is to leave life entirely. 

She walked to her room in a daze, leaving John out on the deck. John sat outside and thought about Clara while she sat in their room. John stared blankly at the sunset. Was money really worth all this? He thought. He began to question himself. Clara had been with him through everything. Even before he got famous and rich. She even helped him build the companies up from scratch. He wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Clara. These thoughts echoed through John's mind. Until they were interrupted by his fathers thoughts, that had been beaten into him so deeply, that nothing else seemed to matter. Yes, he thought. Money is worth it. It is worth everything.

A loud bang interrupted John’s thoughts. It was coming from the direction of John and Clara’s room. John was confused. He thought about what the loud bang could have been. His thoughts lead him to one solution. An outcome that he feared worse than death. Clara, with a gun, in their room. The gun in her hand, lying on the floor. A hole in her neck, a puddle of blood on the ground. He could see it happen as if he was there. His fathers thoughts came to a sudden halt, and his heart stopped. He got up so fast that he fell back down again. He crawled with all his might until he was back up again. His crawl instantly turned into a sprint. He ran so fast that he slammed into the door to get into the yacht. He got inside and didn’t hesitate to keep sprinting. He slammed the wall on every corner. He tripped, fell, and tumbled until his knees were sore. He had only one thing on his mind. Not money. Not fame. Not power. But Clara. He wanted nothing more than to see Clara alright and alive. He was like a little kid, doing anything to help someone he loved. He bumped into his assistants and bodyguards, who were all in shock to see him this way. He approached his and Clara’s room and barged through the door. “Clara!” He yelled. But there was nobody to respond. John’s fear came alive in front of him. There she was. Clara was lying on the floor, with a gun in her hand, a hole in her neck, and a puddle of blood scattered on the ground. John closed the door behind him. He fell to his knees in front of Clara's body. He could hear the body guard's footsteps running towards them. 

“Everything okay in there sir?” One of the bodyguards says outside of his room.

John's voice was frail and cracking up. “Go away.” He said.

“Can you say that a little louder sir?” The bodyguard says.

“I said go away!” John screamed harshly, his voice was splotchy. “Get off my god damn boat!!!” The bodyguards said nothing, and John was only accompanied by the sound of their footsteps slowly jogging away. John's hands were shaking madly. He let out a scoff, and a tear trickled down his face. The tear was followed by another. John let out a groan. The groan got louder and turned into almost a scream. His cry wasn’t pretty. It was painful, and loud. His cries could be heard and felt from blocks away. The Bodyguards outside on the dock could hear his screams. The sound of it made their eyebrows furrow. He screamed for seemingly forever. Until he picked up his phone, and dialed in the numbers 9-1-1. 

“911 What’s your emergency?” The person on the other side of the phone says.

John thought about what he had done before. How his arrogance led to all of this. How this was all his fault. “My wife is dead” his voice was shaky and frail, “I killed her. I caused her death.”

“Im sorry I'm going to need more information. How did she die, and where is your location” The person on the other side of the phone responded. 

“She shot herself in the mouth,” John said, staring at Clara’s wound. “I’m at Gravesend bay.”

“Alright we’ll be there shortly, stay right where you are,” the person at the other end of the phone said before they hung up.

John sat aside Clara’s dead body, and let a few more tears flow down his sopping face. He wanted nothing more than to see Clara again, the thought of money had completely left his mind. Money had become nothing more than an object to him. It wasn’t there for him. It couldn’t bring Clara back. It could now only do nothing more than buy a big empty house where he could sit alone with his sorrow. All he wanted to do is help Clara, but he couldn’t, and that made him feel helpless.

John’s thoughts were soon interrupted by police sirens. They got closer, and closer, until John could see their lights right outside their window. The police came inside, greeted him, and put Clara’s dead body into a bag. It felt surreal to John. The body didn’t even feel like Clara’s, but it was, and she was soon to be buried, and it was all his fault. 

Soon he was taken to a questioning room in a police car. The officer that entered the questioning room was surprised to see that he was John Natic. The officer asked him question after question, trying to figure out what had happened to make her kill herself. John answered every question with complete honesty. He wanted to help by any means possible. But it all felt as though he were watching a movie, as though he could just hit pause and return to his normal life, but he couldn’t. After the officer had asked him all of the questions, he left the room, and was led out of the station by another officer, who offered him a ride home, which he declined. He couldn't go home yet, he didn't want to see how empty it was with Clara gone. So he walked out of the station and took a midnight walk.

John walked away his sorrow. He walked through alleyways and the quietest parts of the city. He passed his favorite places to go with Clara. He passed by the ocean and reminisced. He had somehow found a way to take the good with the bad. He wasn’t happy but he was calm. He was stable. He hoped for a chance of forgiveness. He hoped he could help someone. The loss of the love of his life had changed him. He is not the money chasing monster he was before. He had become human. He had become a child that wanted nothing more than to help. He made his way down a street full of apartment complexes. One room of one apartment about 5 stories high had a window open. He could hear yelling coming from it. A boy and his father arguing. 

“Do you know how much it will cost to repair that! I'm never going to be able to drive again!” The father yelled. John couldn't see either of them but he could feel the wrath of the boy’s father. He had seen this kind of wrath before. With his father, and since that kind of anger turned him into a monster, he decided to listen in further. He sat on a bench right in front of the apartment complex. “Do you hear me!” The father raged on.

“Yes sir,” The boy said, sounding fearful of his father. “I’m sorry.”

“You better be sorry!” The father said. John heard a loud clap, followed by a thud, a pair of feet skiddling away, and a door opening before getting slammed. “Don’t come back!” The father yelled.

John suspected the kid had run away, so he would meet him outside. But around thirty seconds later he heard wheezing coming from the top of the apartment building. The boy was there, crying. John noticed a staircase on the side of the building meant for a fire emergency exit. John instantly ran up to them. When he got to the top he saw a teenage boy about 16 years old. He was concerningly close to the edge. He was almost completely standing on one leg, the other leg appeared to be injured. He was standing there with bloodshot eyes. He had stopped crying, but he still wasn't okay. He had a red mark on his face as if he had been hit by someone. John slowed down and became quieter. He creeped toward the kid to not startle him. John got about four feet away from him and then stopped.

“Hey kid.” He said comfortingly. “I heard what happened over there. It sounded pretty rough.”

“Yeah, my dad’s a dick,” the boy responded, as though it was normal to find another person out on an apartment roof late at night. The boy also sounded empty, as though there was nothing he could do to get out of his life he was living. 

“Yeah. I can relate,” John said.

The boy turned around and looked at John's face. “John Natic!” He said in surprise. “What the hell are you doing here? And how could your father be anything like mine? Aren’t you like… insanely rich?”

“I had quite a rough day,” John responded. “And it wasn’t always that way. I grew up just like you. I had a dad just like yours” John said with empathy.

“Thats such BS,” the boy said angrily. “I haven't seen a scar or a scratch on you. You have no idea what this is like. My father doesn’t give a damn about me, he only cares about money and his stupid car”

John wiped his thumb across his face to reveal the bruises he had left underneath his makeup. “Do you believe me now?” John asked. “My dad was a prick just like yours. I have a lot of bad habits because of him.”

“What’s your point? Are you just going to sit there and try to comfort me? Like that will do anything."

John thought. He never thought of what he was going to do. “I don’t know… I guess I just wanted to help” 

“Yeah well it's too late for that,” The boy said. John noticed a recognizable, “giving up” vibe coming off of the boy that Clara had right before she killed herself. “How about you get down from there? You could slip.” 

The boy looked at his feet, he was standing on a ledge and was about four inches away from falling off. He also had an injured ankle, which made falling all the more likely. “I’ll pass.” The boy said. He had no fear of falling, even though if he did he would definitely hit the metal bench below him and die. The kid pulled out a small vaping device, with LHI written on the front of it. He tried to hit it, but it didn’t work. “Ohh come on!” He complained. John’s heart dropped from the sight of it, he needed to get rid of it.

“Let me see that,” John asked.

“It's dead,” the boy responded before throwing it at him.

“Thanks,” John threw the device as hard as he could. “That stuff kills you. It's laced to the brim with melancholite.”

“Alright, I guess. Whatever that is,” the boy said carelessly. “Wasn’t planning on using it again anyway.” 

John’s heart dropped further. “Come on! Get down from there. Please.” The boy's face went cold, and he stared at the ground five stories away from him. He began to lean ever so slightly. “Don’t do it!” John yelled. He was scared to death of the kid killing himself. But the boy didn’t listen. The boy leaned further and further. Until he had passed the point of no return. The boy was going to fall. John jumped and the boy spread his arms out, bracing for impact. John flew to grab his hand. It all felt like slow motion. John could see the boy’s hand slowly trickle forward, but John moved faster than it. John slowly reached out his hand, and the boy's hand fell into its grasp. He had grabbed him, but before he knew it he was falling too. He watched as the roof began to rise. He held out his other hand and grasped for the ledge. His hand felt the rough pavement, and he began to hold on to it as tight as he could. His arm soon felt the weight of both himself and the boy below him. He grasped as hard as he could with both hands. They were both now hanging off the roof. The boy's weight was too much for him. John’s hands, as determined as they were, were slipping, and fast. But John would find a way to save the boy. He needed to save him, it was all he was thinking of, the thought of his own death did not even cross his mind. John thought quickly. He noticed a bush around three feet away from where the boy would land, and a metal bench that he needed to avoid. John gathered all of his might and swung his arm toward the bush and let go. He was so focused on saving the boy that he didn’t even realize that his hand that was holding the ledge was slipping. He felt all five of his fingers slowly slip off the ledge, sending him and the boy hurling down toward the ground. The kid below him was directly headed toward the bush, but John had not thought of himself. John watched as the bench below him rose and rose. The bench was directly lined up with his head. John heard a soft crunch of the bush as the boy below him hit the ground. Then, the crunch was followed by a loud, Twaang, as John’s head brutally hit the metal bench, as John's consciousness left his body. His body tumbled to the ground and remained stationary. The boy's body was moving and groaning.

“Owwww,” The boy groaned.

The boy had survived. Even though he was definitely hurt, John had done exactly what he wanted. He put the boy before his own life. Someone he never knew, he had fought so hard for, and that brought out the little kid in him. All he had done was try to help. 

————

 John awoke. He thought he had fallen but nothing hurt. His pain was non-existent. John heard footsteps walking toward him until they were right beside him. John opened his eyes. He was met by a beautiful face. His heart filled with love and happiness. It was Clara. She was standing right above him with a smile that could fill a room with brightness. John got up in an instant. 

“Clara!” He said with tears in his eyes. He hugged her with all his might. “I thought you would hate me,”

“I could never hate you John,” Clara responded. “And you have shown me you have changed.” Clara smiled. She kissed John on the cheek and held his hand. Then, they traveled away to a new world gleefully, and let the abysmal horrors of their past travel away into darkness. John had become a completely new person, and he had discovered a new meaning of life. To help others.