| The sharp scent of rubbing alcohol cuts through the air like a piercing dagger as the sorrowful echoes of families’ cries consume the waiting room. The lights started to flicker in an erratic pattern, pacing faster. My ears began to ring and I was jolted awake by the sound of my alarm; it felt like waking up after a horrible nightmare.
“Hazel Caswell! Doctor! Come quick! Stop daydreaming! We need your help!” I ran outside my office to see what the commotion was about. Before I could act, I was transported to a different place—I’m used to it. “This wasn’t the first time this had happened. I am in a comic book, after all. A moment ago, I was in the blood bank; now, I’m in a random theater. It was humongous, the theater, but awfully quiet. The random teleportation is the shifting of the scenes. For example, if the protagonist (aka me, Hazel!) has a scene during the nighttime, the writer who created it would just skip ahead and make it morning for the next scene. Honestly, it’s so unfair that he gets to decide how I live. Yes, I LOVE the attention the writer gives me, but it would be nice if I had free will. I guess that’s how it goes!” Suddenly, I returned to reality and noticed that everybody in the theater was neatly dressed. They wore posh suits and formal dresses. I looked around, and something felt… off. They were frozen, still as statues. Then, an enormous television was displayed on the stage. I soon realized that the scene the writer placed me in hadn’t changed yet. It felt as if hours had already passed. I quickly pulled out my comic book to check what part of the story the writer was placing me in, but the television screen abruptly started to glitch. I lost my grip, and the comic book fell to the ground. The screen flickered and showed a pair of hands that were frantically writing in a notebook on a cluttered bedside table. I found it odd because I was watching the person in first person. The television began to glitch again, and I caught glimpses of people inside capsules in a green-lit chamber. From children to adults, they had their heads covered with a sack that had holes so they could see. They were in agony; the faint sounds of weeping children broke the silence that filled the theater. I observed multiple people, and I noticed a young girl. Her name tag had “Fantine” written on it. She had beautiful brown locks, but she was too young to be in such a place. There was one particular girl that caught my eye. Her name tag was written as “Supporting Character 16: Cosette” It’s strange…my sister’s name was also Cosette. She mysteriously disappeared years ago. Out of nowhere, Cosette broke free from the rope that bound her hands and feet while I was watching her on a CCTV camera in the corner of the chamber room. She began to walk towards the door and attempted to escape. She carefully removed the sack that covered her face; I froze, and the realisation hit me. It was my sister, Cosette. Her filthy body and face made it difficult to recognise her. But regardless, I happily cried out to her. She stopped in her tracks and slowly turned to strike the camera with a venomous stare. It was almost like she heard what I said. I was confused; her eyes widened, and she suddenly fell to the ground. Her legs started to…DISAPPEAR? Then her body was slowly disintegrating. I was horrified. I desperately called her name several times. Yet the screen was glitching once more. The camera switched to the man who was scribbling in his notebook again. Out of anger, I wanted to destroy the screen with a baseball bat. I couldn’t believe the horrific things I just saw. It was a hard pill to swallow. I was grieving and tried to run outside the theater to process what had happened. But the writer drew and placed me in a new scene for me in the comic book, so I couldn’t move and was forced to do what the writer drew me to do. “Is the writer seriously making me watch the blank television screen after what happened to my sister? Being a protagonist is so cruel. I’m always involved in scenes and I can’t do anything as I please; only the writer decides my fate. I’m being used as a puppet.” The screen started to flicker again, and the same man from earlier began to cross out random names in his notebook with a bright red pen. Out of boredom, I started to skim the names, and three familiar ones sent a cold shiver down my spine. It was Cosette, Fantine, and ME?! I was dumbfounded as to why our names were in the man’s notebook. The only difference was that Cosette and Fantine’s names had already been crossed out. Why? What does it mean? The scene I’m being written in right now isn’t normal; something’s wrong. The screen flashed a number of people dying, just like how Cosette disappeared into thin air, and the man was crossing out their names. Is this man… the writer of this comic book world? “Character 16: Cosette Caswell-BACKGROUND CHARACTER: ( DELETED FOR 2ND TIME)” “Character 20: Fantine Antoinette-BACKGROUND CHARACTER: ( DELETED )” Everything started to add up: the people who disappeared were characters that were erased from this world. Cosette and Fantine were background characters, so the writer forgot about them and they were discarded. I looked around, and to my horror, the people in the theater started to disappear as well; they were also being forgotten. The truth became clear: this world, everything I knew, these people—none of it was real. I came to the conclusion that even I, myself, am not real. Everything and everyone here was just a mere idea from the writer’s imagination. My mind is flooded with questions, but I fear none will be answered before I’m erased from this world. The writer’s pen hovered over my name, Hazel Caswell. I wasn’t ready to accept my fate but there was nothing I could do. I braced myself and before I could hold my breath, my vision became blurry and I woke up to the sound of my co-workers calling me. “Hazel Caswell! Doctor! Come quick! Stop daydreaming! We need your help!” About the author Mikaela was born on January 25, 2010, in Metro Manila, Las Pinas. She’s currently a 14-year-old student who moved to Baguio City with her family to seek more opportunities in terms of education and personal growth. During her free time, she engages in different activities. Which includes writing stories, playing badminton, reading, and much more! She has multiple hobbies and has fun despite her tight schedule when juggling school and extracurricular activities. Mikaela is eager to learn more about the wonders the world has to offer, making every experience an opportunity to grow.
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