This was a story which i wanted to enter for a sp competition but i dint.
it's a simple story of a guy with unfounded dreams.
The tittering and tattering of the somewhat heavy raindrops, invited the dawn of a new day, or rather, a gloomy day. The room was as good as vacant, with only a book shelf to break the monotony. He awoke to see the peeled ceiling with a tinge of resentment in his mind; he execrated his fate. Blagdon was apparently, the typical boy-next-door. His name meant 'dark valley', and it somewhat described his life too. Scorned by his mother since birth, he never experienced love. Blagdon was a product of a misplanned passion-overrun, borned out of wedlock. The bed creaked unstably as he dragged himself out of his bed. He continued his inevitable daily routine, freshening up and leaving for college.
Though the college was just a kilometer down the road, the journey always seemed to drag for miles. Blagdon normally took time to notice the unnoticable, such as our footsteps. There were those impatient footsteps of the ambitious, racing their way through the snakes and ladders of the corporate world. Yet, these footsteps are accompanied by the reluctant ones of the young and rebellious, compelled to side-shift or even forsake their childhooh ambitions. Blagdon could fairly empathize with the latter, as he had aspired to enter the entertainment industry since he knew what ambitions meant. The results were obvious. The resounding resentment in his head always accompanied him to college. His mother had a bad way of motivating him, always resulting in adverse effects. The resonating words "Why can't you be..." usually made his day.
'The school of dreams', the banner that welcomed Blagdon into the best college in the country. He was of natural brilliance, inherently intelligent. His life was summarized with glamourous statistics, mathematics 99/100, bio-chemistry- 92/100, Blagdon - student of the year. However, all he ever desired was a ordinary life filled with compassion and love. The routine of his daily life disappointed him day after day. Yet, pathetic as his life was, he withheld this diabolic plan of producing a bomb. He could be deranged, but he miraculously always managed to hold his senses together. He strolled into the campus to check the results of the term papers.
"Congratulations Blag! You have topped the level again!"
"You're undisputed!"
These exclaims of praise never moved him. It was just deemed as hyprocritical words with envy between the lines. However, he always made the effort to pull off a smile to these 'green eyes'.
"I'm not okay.." his phone sounded, before he continued his daily rountine.
"We're really sorry to inform you that your mother has died in a car accident that happened this morning.", the hospital authorities sent their condolences. Somehow, he could not feel sadness. Suddenly, something burst in him. His valves seemed to pump unusually fast, leading to a heartache of unknown cause; he had never experienced this sensation before. He suddenly made a sinister smirk. They always said only a thin line seperated a genius from a psychopath. Blagdon decided to seize the day.
Blagdon slammed the door of the chemistry laboratory shut, as he proceeded to produce the spawn of the devil. A tinge of potassium and francium was seperated form the concentrate hydrochloric acid, in a double section circular container. The results of these mixtures mixing together would be disastrous. Unfortunately, Blagdon had already totally lost control of his senses. Deep inside of him, his conscience screamed to no avail, with despair. His tormented soul had been corrupted saddistically far beyond salvation.
Uncontrollably, he did his mathematics and computed the best place to deal this damage - the campus. Blagdon strolled to the canteen, as he slowly savoured the taste of his liberation. This unhallowed desire to liberate all the aimless souls with him. The bomb in his hand seemed to call out to him, "let me out. let me out..", enticing him to just release it. However, he had a far more sinister plan that would even render his inner demons dumbfounded. He coveted companions. He desired the sight of deaths. He arrived at the canteen, satisfied with the turn-up. It was the lunch break. A smug smile slipped out from his mouth.
He dropped the bomb right in the middle of the canteen. The bomb dropped extremely slowly, as Blagdon's life flashed past him. Sweet victory was within reach.
1.5 meters from the ground - "Why can't you be smarter?", Blag remembered his mother.
1 meter from the ground - "You're such an geek", Blag recalled his friendships.
0.5 meters from the ground - There's a baby crying, "daddy!"
Snap! Every snapped back to reality. Blagdon smiled.
Boom.
Yes, the school of dreams. Blagdon finally fulfilled his dream. He seized his day
