𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑! [𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊]

chapter one.

CRUEL SUMMER!
chapter one.

( call it fate, call it karma. )

                        There's a chronically overstated legend about a boy who flew too close to the sun.

In Greek mythology, Icarus soared into the sky fearlessly, blinded by enthusiasm. So blinded, in fact, that he ended up gliding too close to the blazing star. The heat instantly melted away the wax from his man-made wings, and he fell into the sea, where he inevitably drowned.

It's certainly a famous myth. Everybody always talks about Icarus and the great tragedy behind his death, like it wasn't his own fault. I can only assume it's because of the fatuous poetic appeal to it. The irony in realizing that the thing you love so much could be what kills you.

I've never cared for any of it. Poetry or romance.

Daedalus is the other character in the myth. He was Icarus' father and an accomplished inventor. He built a labyrinth on the island of Cnossus for King Minos of Crete. Apparently, the labyrinth was said to be so ingenious that there were moments in which Daedalus himself couldn't find his way out.

Unfortunately, but also not all that surprising, Daedalus fell into disfavor with the king of Crete sometime after building it. He was condemned to live the rest of his life inside his own intricate creation. And because Icarus was his father's son, he was damned to the same fate.

They were trapped inside with no way out. The king wasn't permitting anyone to sail without being carefully searched, so they couldn't escape by sea, and all the land routes were being closely supervised, so they couldn't run for it either.

Daedalus had to find another way, and he did. Ever the inventor, he constructed two pairs of wings out of wax and feathers. One for himself and the other for his son.

I've often wondered about the inseparable labyrinth. I know the feeling of being caged in. I've been familiar with it since I was a child. In a way, I thought that I had grown used to the confinement that comes with it, or numb to it at the very least. But as of late, I've been feeling restless. I don't know how it started, or even when. Maybe it was after school went out and I found myself with nothing to do. With no book left to read, no schoolwork to finish ahead of time or papers to grade for extra credit. I had nothing.

It was dreadfully boring for a couple of days. Then I met him.

I knew who he was prior to our first encounter. I'd seen him around the island and I knew he was from The Cut. And from the second we met, I knew we weren't going to be friends.

He's smug, stubborn, childish, and he never thinks anything through. He's also never on time, always showing up late to our meetings. Every single one. It's either that, or he just shows up entirely unannounced.

And yes, hooking up with him helps kill the boredom, but at what cost? It isn't enough to simply be distracted anymore.

The thunder outside crashes wildly as the worst of the storm seethes through. I can see flashes of purple outside my window, zapping through the sky and illuminating the black puffs of clouds. I exhale evenly, finding solace in staring at the raindrops that clash against my window and roll down the glass.

Paradise on earth, huh? What a load of shit. At least Hurricane Agatha seems to be having a good time.

I can't bear much longer on this island. And I won't have to, because I know. I know that I'm going to find it. It's my way out. My pair of wings.