Awakening to Samsara

Xiao woke up to the harsh blare of his alarm at 8 a.m., the piercing sound cutting through his foggy mind. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and forced himself to sit up. With only four hours of sleep, every movement was a struggle, but school awaited. 

Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face in a futile attempt to wake up. His reflection stared back, bleary-eyed and disheveled. 

The bathroom, with its peeling wallpaper and water-stained mirror, felt as tired as he did. He brushed his teeth mechanically, the minty taste doing little to shake off his grogginess.

After a quick, half-hearted effort at getting dressed, he made his way downstairs.

The kitchen was just as he had left it the night before, except for one notable change—the plate of dinner he had left for his father was now empty. His father had come home, eaten, and gone to bed without a word.

The faint smell of reheated food lingered in the air, mingling with the stale scent of last night's dishes. Xiao sighed, a familiar pang of loneliness tugging at his chest.

He grabbed a bowl of cereal—their bread had run out the day before, so this would have to do. Mechanically, he poured the milk, stirred it, and took a few bites. The kitchen, bathed in the weak morning light, felt emptier than usual, the silence amplifying his sadness.

As he ate, his mind drifted back to the previous night. The strange message from Epiphany about the cycle of Samsara had piqued his curiosity, and he wondered about the server.

Maybe it could break the monotony of his life, offering something new and exciting. But for now, he had to focus on getting through another day of school. 

Finishing his breakfast, Xiao slung his backpack over his shoulder and stepped out the door. The early morning air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the stale air inside his house. He walked down the familiar path to school, his steps slow and deliberate.

On his way, he passed by Mrs. Li, his neighbor, who was tending to her small balcony garden. Mrs. Li was a young mother in her thirties, balancing the duties of a housewife while looking after her only daughter, his classmate Li Mei-Ling.

She often spent her mornings caring for the plants, adding a touch of greenery to the otherwise concrete boredom of their apartment complex.

Today, she was watering her plants, the morning sunlight reflecting off the droplets and casting a gentle glow around her.

"Good morning, Xiao," she called out, her voice gentle and warm. "Off to school, I see."

Xiao adjusted the strap of his backpack, glancing toward the door. "Good morning, Mrs. Li," he replied, trying to muster a smile. "Yes, just another day. Did Mei leave for school already?."

Mrs. Li paused, her eyes crinkling at the corners as if recalling a secret. "Ah, yes," she said softly. "But she seems to have left her sketchbook on the kitchen table. You know how she is—always lost in her art." She patted Xiao's shoulder. "Perhaps you could take it to her later. A small excuse to see her, hmm?"

Mrs. Li looked at him thoughtfully, sensing his underlying sadness. "You know, Xiao, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always here."

Xiao nodded, appreciating her kindness but feeling too burdened by his own thoughts to take her up on the offer. "Thank you, Mrs. Li. I'll keep that in mind."

Continuing on his way, Xiao noticed a stray cat perched on a fence, its eyes watching him with a curious intensity. Xiao paused for a moment, offering a soft "hey" to the cat, who blinked lazily in response before continuing to groom itself. 

The journey to school was uneventful, a monotonous routine etched into his daily existence. He passed the same buildings, the same trees, and the same neglected playground that had once been a place of laughter and games.

With each step, he pondered the vague and hollow nature of everything around him. Days melded seamlessly into one another, trapped in an endless loop of classes, assignments, and lonely evenings.

Arriving at school, he trudged through the bustling hallways, the chatter of students and clanging of lockers creating a cacophony that felt distant to him.

He made his way to his locker, fumbling with the combination before retrieving his books. The mundane tasks of the morning consisting of checking his schedule and navigating through the crowded halls felt like background noise to his restless thoughts.

As he walked to his first class, Xiao saw Li Mei-Ling standing by the door. Mei-Ling was the star of their school's debate team, known for her sharp wit and kind heart.

Her long, flowing hair and bright, expressive eyes made her stand out in a crowd, but it was her genuine kindness and effortless grace that had captivated Xiao since the first day they met in their literature class. 

They had shared a few classes, and she had always been kind to him, offering a smile or a kind word when he needed it most. Xiao had always admired her from afar, appreciating her intelligence and warmth but feeling too shy to get close.

She looked up and smiled when she saw him, her eyes lighting up with recognition and warmth. "Hey, Xiao!" she called out, her voice bright and cheerful. "How was your night?"