The Ring of Rebirth

No! Today’s the first day of Melincca High. Why does he have to go to school? He’d rather stay home as a power-less person for the rest of his life than to go to school. Facing all those people! Walking onto the stage with hundreds of eyes staring at him, taunting at his deformation… Why would he want to go to a place full of jerks like that?

Mason got dressed, his clothes all ragged like Tiff’s were. He gazed at the other door on his right, a wooden door with its white paint peeling off. That was his parents’ bedroom, it has not been opened since his parents last went hunting three years ago. He went over, raised his hand, but then dropped it again.

Mason could remember his parents’ voice, their sentences, even, as they encouraged him to make friends, comforted him, and applied alcohol on his wound, though their faces unclear in his memory.

***

“Hey, Mason, go on and make friends. We will be waiting for you here, waiting for our hero.” His parents kissed him on the cheeks.

They were at a bench in a park. It was the perfect weather, sunny, with breeze, and a few clouds. A bunch of boys were chatting and eating on the grass, laughing at each other’s jokes.

“But they won’t like me…” The skinny boy peeked at the group of kids.

“It’s okay, honey, just give it another try.” His mum rubbed his cheeks softly with her thumbs.

Mason took a deep breath and ran in front of the kids, “Hello. Can I join you?”

“Ewwww! What happened to you? Just go away, I can’t bear to see your disgusting—well, everything.” The boys frowned and flinched away from him.

“But I just…”

“Go away! We don’t want to be infected by whatever your disease is.”

“I don’t have a disease. I’m born this way, it’s not infectious.” Mason tried to explain, though his voice was drowned out by the boys’ clamours.

“Just leave us, we are eating. Don’t make us look at you any longer, we might throw up!” The boys’ face was contorted in distaste and a few fake gagged.

Mason could still hear the sniggers as he trudged back to his parents, his eyes watery despite how he was used to the scene, “They don’t want me. Mum, Dad, I am disgusting, right?”

His parents hugged him and stared straight into his eyes, “No, honey. Everyone is born with deformations, we all look different, and that’s what makes us unique. You are just more special than others. Some people may respond to your uniqueness badly but keep trying to make friends. We believe you will find someone who accepts you and treat you with a true heart. Though with or without that person, you were and always will be our little hero. Please remember this. We. Love. You. No matter what.”

***

Mason found himself leaning against his parents’ door with his vision blurred by tears.

“But you were wrong…” He mumbled, “I’m revolting, I really am, and you knew it. Why couldn’t you just tell me the truth! Encouraging me to make friends… Why would they want a freak like me when they’ve got plenty of normal friends?”

Mason kicked his parents’ door, “Why do they get to enjoy life while I’m the one suffering?

Why me? Why was I born this way? It’s not fair! What makes those ignorant idiots deserve happiness?”

He slid to the ground by the door, holding his head, “Why did you make me suffer? Why couldn’t you just strangle me before I was conscious? Then I wouldn’t have to be taunted, beaten, and disgust so many people! Why can’t you just do a favour to the world?”

Mason hugged himself as he wept. Salty liquid trickled down the contorted side of his face and dripped onto the floor. His fist was so tightly clenched beside him that his knuckles were sore when he let go.

A while later, he stopped crying and gazed at the floor, eyes slightly swollen.

That was unexpected, he shouldn’t have behaved like that. He furrowed his eyebrows. There are people having cancer, deaf and blind, or don’t have limbs at all. There are cases far worse than his, so what gives him the right to whine like that? And it was inappropriate for him to kick the door. He should value his life and the infinite possibilities along with it.

Mason got up and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. He splashed the cold water on him, which soothed both the sting on his face and the flame in his chest. He went to his parents’ door and whispered, “I’m sorry, mum and dad. I was just stressed. I didn’t really mean it.”

He drank some milk and ate a few slices of bread before he closed the front door behind him and walked into the tiny corridor he shared with his neighbor.

What’s that bony girl’s name again? Trace? Tris? Um, Tracy? Yeah, Tracy sounds right. She’s blocking his way down. He really would prefer not to talk to her, but he had to let her move, he’s running lat—oh, she turned.

Really? Are you serious? After living next to him for years, she’s still making that look, that stunned, disgusted, but trying to be polite look.

“Hey, Mason. How are you on the first day of school? Excited?” Her expression soon returned to normal.

Her voice was vibrant, he liked it, wait—Was that Tracy girl trying to start a conversation with him? Why was she talking to him? No one should want to chat with a weirdo like him.

Though there are only two apartments on this floor, so it’s certain she really was talking to him. Should he respond? No, this is probably just some prank again, like the time a boy convinced him they were friends before he lured him into a dark alley and beat him up.

Last time, no matter how bad it was, his parents got his back, but now he’s alone. He’ll not allow it to happen again, nor can he afford it happening.

“You are in my way.” Mason announced coldly.

“Oh, right, sorry.” The Tracy girl pressed herself against the wall while he strode past her, trying to seem proud and detached.

He exhaled as he entered the stairwell. Mason felt safe and protected in the dark, for no light can expose his deformation or expressions here. He heard footsteps behind him echoing in the space, but he just walked on, trying to subdue the thumping of his heart. Tracy blabbed on and on behind him, asked him loads of questions, but he pretended not to hear.

Woah, she’s a chatter, isn’t she? If he keeps his silence, will she just give up and go away? She definitely came to deceive him into believing they are friends and then do something cruel to him. Or, is she? What if she came for friendship? No, Mason, don’t doubt your past experience, remember that boy? He seemed so nice and helpful, but it turned out to all be a plot.

Images flashed past his mind as irritation built up in his chest, threatening to burst. He trusted that boy so much and what did he get?

He felt a slight jab at his back as Tracy called, “Mason?”

“What do you want!” He spun on the spot and stared at her, “Why are you doing this?”

Surely if he behaves more aggressively, those lousy people would just back off. Now, Tracy, forget about your plan and leave me alone!

“Um, I,” She gaped at him, “I, just want to make friends with you.”

Yes, she flinched a bit, being aggressive is working, good job, keep going.

“No, you don’t want to make FRIENDS with me.” Mason glowered at Tracy with the fiercest scowl he could manage.

“Truly, I do. Believe me!” Her expression was sincere.

Alright, still playing this game, isn’t she? Screw her sincere face, she’s just a good actress. He can’t trust her. He can’t afford to give anyone his trust. Trusting means getting hurt.

“Make friends, what a nice excuse! Just tell me, what do you want from me?” Mason reminded himself to be ferocious, ferocious, and ferocious.

“I don’t want anything from you except friendship. Why are you being mean to me?”

What! This is mean? Then, what about stuffing your head into the toilet and saying: “Your face only deserves to be in the toilet.”? What about peeling all your clothes off and hanging them on the top branch of a tall tree? What about holding you to the ground as they cut off all your hair and scratch your scalp with stones? Tracy has no clue how cruel peers can be.

“Mean?” Mason sneered, “You call this MEAN?”

Then he marched towards Melincca High without looking back.

New students, around fifty of them, were grouped together in the middle of a square flatland.

The left-top corner was occupied by six rectangular tables painted purple; the left-bottom corner was for blue tables; the right-top corner was for six white ones; while the right-bottom was occupied by green tables.

Each table sat about ten to fifteen people.

The older students were wearing different coloured school uniforms and sitting at tables that matched their uniform colour.

Students at the purple section had purple shorts and T-shirts with golden stripes around their collar and sleeves; students at the blue section had blue uniforms and white stripes; at the white tables, students were wearing the white outfit with black stripes; while students at the green section had dark green clothing and silver stripes.

“Hey, check out that boy with dirty blonde hair, he has no left arm!” A girl murmured to her friends, “Oh my, his ears too. Wow, only two black holes! That’s so creepy.”

“Yeah~” Another girl’s voice, “Wait, see his face! Was he in an accident or something?”

“But the other side of his face is fine, what kind of accident can it be to destroy only half of it?” The discussion continued on as Mason rolled his eyes.

He had heard these words for so many times in his life. He used to explain his condition to them, but then he realized explaining it over and over again is simply a big waste of time. There are so many people out there uninformed of his case, he can’t make everyone understand.

“Which house do you want to be in? I want Purple.” A boy muttered to a girl next to him.

“Me too! Purple is the strongest house. Everyone wants to be in it. Well, Green is the second best, so if I’m not talented enough to be in Purple, I’d hope for Green.” The girl replied.

“Same. Blue’s not bad either, so I’d be happy too if I’m in Blue. But not White! It sucks.” The boy grimaced when he mentioned House White.

“Yeah, White’s the worst. Think about it, what can you even do with Wind?”

‘Please don’t let me be in White, please,’ Mason closed his eyes and prayed internally, ‘For all I have suffered through, just let me have a good power, please.’

A line of teachers walked onto the high stage in front of the square flatland. A tall woman spoke in her low, booming voice, “Welcome, first-year new students, welcome to Melincca High.”

She paused to allow the clapping to fade before she carried on, “I’m the headmaster of Melincca High, Ms. Ying. As you may already know, the school is divided into four honourable houses by four different powers. House Purple, which possesses Lightening; Blue, the house of Ice; House White, which owns Wind; and Green, the house of Plant.”

“Behind me are twenty-four tutors who have mastered their power, each of them is in charge of a year level in one of the houses. May I introduce—Ms. Thomas, House Blue year 1 tutor; Mr. Farber, House Green year 1 tutor; Mr. Damis, House Purple year 1 tutor; and Ms. Hamson, House White year 1 tutor; Mr. Latini, House Blue year 2 tutor…”

Tutors stepped forward as their names ran by.

Ms. Ying finally finished the list, “As you see, each house owns six tables, each table is for a year level. After the Categorization, you can go to your house and sit around the empty table, and that will be the table you sit at during assemblies and lunchtimes until you graduate. Now, first years, please line up at the left side of the stage, let’s start the Categorization.”

The tutors walked down, and a fist-sized translucent globe was put in the middle of the stage on a stand. Ms. Ying took a board from a senior student and stood beside the sphere.

“This is the crystal globe that can sort you into different houses. You will come up as I call your name and put your hand on it.”