his star

𝐗𝐋𝐈𝐗

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨

All I can see are numbers.

They go from zero to nine and then repeat themselves, building a chain that is so long that my brain tries to persuade me to not read every digit of it. Instead, it wants to tell me to roughly look over it with my eyes, taking in the fact that numbers are written down in front of me.

I don't do it though. I read every single digit and once I'm done, I do it again because it sounds so nice.

86400 Minutes.

I could show those five signs to a child and only by saying that they consist of twenty-eight letters, I would see how their eyes would go wide in disbelief, wondering how it might be possible that a number can also be a character of the alphabet.

5184000 Seconds.

This one is even longer, even more beautiful. It's fascinating how numbers can erase the words I've written next to them, can help me calm down without having to do something I'll regret afterwards. It's amazing how figures can be arranged in a different way but still mean the same.

The first one I wrote down is the exact same one as the second, I only used a different unit - a better one.

Why would I hold onto something that gives me less time if I had the chance to have the same only for longer? I'm not sure if the way I'm thinking makes sense, if it truly is a fact or if I may be trying to find something new in order to please me in a way nothing else has achieved yet. Fact or not, I believe it and to be honest, the believe alone is something big too.

Right?

I believe stuff others would shake their head for, believe in rules that haven't been declared as such but in my head they exist. I believe.

I believe while others face a different kind of reality, a kind that is easier. They wouldn't say that they have an exact amount of seconds until the moment comes in which they have to kill someone. For them it would be two months or sixty days, nothing more and nothing less. For them it would be the date I drew a circle around, the thirtieth of July that is currently sitting in the centre of my paper and even though it is impossible to miss it, I still pretend like I can't see it, only regarding the other numbers - the longer ones.

Other people aren't cleverer or less complicated just because they have the guts to face an exact date consisting of one or two digits. They aren't better than me just because I look like a maniac, trying to continue the chains and searching for a smaller unit to use.

They simply believe something different or nothing at all, only following the rules we have learned and not trying to ask themselves whether they like it or not.

I'm not saying that it is bad to do it like that - I just don't like it, not in this situation at least.

Doesn't it sound so much better to say that I have a few ten-thousand minutes in freedom before I have to go and kill someone? Doesn't it sound so much more calming to know that I still have more than five million seconds before I have to step into the situation in which I will stand face to face to the old man, feeling how the green light leaves my wand and taking the life of the other in front of me?

It does for me, so I keep writing while multiple other questions and facts are running through my mind and ears, screaming at me to acknowledge them.

What will I do if it's not him that falls to the ground?

What will happen the hours before and after?

Is the only reason for why he is sending his supporters with me that he needs prove that I actually did it or does he maybe expect me to fail, needing someone else who could do what I wasn't able to?