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Ethereal Paradigm: A Canvas Of Black 9 Dementia Diagnosis

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"Reality is an illusion, albeit a very persistent one."

-Albert Einstein

━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━

"I am sorry, but I can't seem to remember."

"Oh. It's ok. I expected it to be this way since you were so little when I left that household. So your father did not even talk a bit about me to you... that unthrifty entrepreneur." She then took some time to wipe off the tears that are about to burst.

"Are you perhaps acquainted with my family?" I wondered as she said that she left my household long ago. I presage that she might be one of our workers or is a legit business partner.

"Please allow me to do the introduction. I am Silvia...Silvia Cendrillon. The mother of your father. " She answered, bowing her head in respect to the ancient custom of those who consider themselves as a part of the n.o.bility.

"So you're my-...?"

"Yes, at any rate," she responded.

So this is the lady, Lacrimosa was talking about. I glimpsed at the G.o.ddess who was busy observing us from the distance. So she really can't be seen by others huh? I thought.

"What's wrong? Is something over there?"

"Oh, it's nothing. By the way gran-... Uhm, of how may I address you?"

" You can call me Gramma. Or whatever name you find easy to p.r.o.nounce "

"So I'll call you that then, Gramma. "

"It has been a long time now Jaiden. I completely remembered that I left the family when you were only four years of age. It is unfortunate however that our first meeting in decades is like this." She exclaimed.

"Why did you leave?" Curiously, I asked without having second thoughts of how it might affect her. There was utter silence in the room for about half a minute.

"Wherever there is money. There is evil Jaiden, and your father hated me for that belief," she answered while her facade was turning to something that is rather melancholic.

Well, I can't argue with that. As if it had not been for money, my brother would not have committed such a heinous crime from the get-go. Then while we were in the middle of our conversation, a suite of men came bulging out of the door. One was a doctor and the other three seemed to be police officers.

"Excuse us lady Silvia. We have something to discuss with the lad. "

"Ah right, give me a second. I am sorry to cut off our reunion in this kind of extent but first I must ask you this... After this Jaiden, would you care to live with me? After all your parents and your acquaintances' whereabouts remain unknown after a week of intensive search. My place may not be as big as your previous one but hey, I'll offer you quality life... I just thank G.o.d for waking you up after that week-long rest."

Wait, I've been asleep for a week already? And what unknown whereabouts are they talking about? Did they seriously think that they are alive somewhere? Then a voice suddenly came into my head in some sort of telepathy and answered, "Glad you found out". That voice, however, I recognized immediately to be Lacrimosa's who was standing by the window with a sarcastic smile.


"Ahem. Thank you for the offer Gramma. I will without a doubt accept your kindness."

"Well then. I sure am glad to hear that."

Having said that, the elderly then turned away and opened the door.

"I'll be waiting outside."

"Yes ma'am!" the three intrusive men answered.

As the person who claimed to be my grandma took her leave, the doctor then began examining me and my status quo while the three police officers started bombarding me with unfathomable questions as to what happened that night. I decided to state nothing but the truth and the truth alone, as lying would likely improve nothing.

Yet they did not believe anything that I said. Worst is that the doctor even diagnosed me to have "Dementia" as my mental state was deteriorating from their perspectives.

Furthermore, I found out that my entire household was then deemed "Missing" as they neglected the truth that I spouted, saying that they were killed by the same person. And the news of a rich aristocratic family gone missing grazed the headlines for almost a week and a half, but Grandma did all on her power to keep me away from the media's glares...

So they really find my statements implausible huh... Well, after all, the fire from the summon of Lacrimosa was so potent that it did not even leave a minuscule trail of blood that could have served as a piece of blatant evidence... A top-caliber cremation indeed.

(....)

Years came and go from that moment on. Each day pa.s.sed by quickly with every bit of natural insignificance.

As for the rest of my early youth and middle school years, I preferred to utilize it at my own pace, distancing myself from anyone who dares to penetrate the social walls that I built, reading argumentative whatnots from both famed and unknown antediluvian philosophers. I wanted to be alone, as it was befitting for someone like me who has lost a part that makes a human, a "mere human". I am, at any means apart of the flock. I have lost the ability to feel those emotions... Emotions that are proven integral for one to continue its survival. Well, it's not like I wanted them anyway.

True. I do not deserve the right to feel such trivial heart-felts and yet neither did I want them. If they subsist only to drag me down, it's better to let go. I can move forward without them and heck, this would be the first in history that someone will tread his foot into the colorful paths of the world, feeling monochromatic inside.

I am now on the verge of legal age. I lived with my grandma who took care of me as if I was of her own, and is the same person who owned the hospital where I woke up from, although she began to worry about my "emotionless" facade that I showed from time to time, as I was having difficulties from smiling alone. She also made me go through a lot of therapies as one of her top doctors exclaimed that I have developed Severe Antisocial Personality Disorder, which I can't deny.

The old lady also took care of the businesses and corporations my father left upon his death, but this time, no profit is to be earned as she will give everything that it earns to the ma.s.ses as a sort of public service. Nothing changed that much and the clock-like symbol on my hand stayed the same as it was that night, explicitly saying that nothing in my story had improved or retrograde.

Furthermore, nothing was new from that point on, except that I have a G.o.ddess as a friend (Albeit, I don't know if she considers me as one, but fair enough) and Dementia as an excuse to skip school for at least twice a week.

Oh, and after tomorrow, another disparaging and boring academic year is about to commence with nothing on it but unessential lessons you can palpably live without. Yet sad to say, we are h.e.l.l-bent to do it, as it is a mad world we currently live in, and to walk around in endless and ubiquitous circles is the "best" thing to do, because in any endeavor to alter a sacrosanct or a paradigm would be against the norms, and you'll pay a h.e.l.l of consequences, from this judgmental and overseeing society, full of minds set to serving mediocrity.

No, I did not mean to rhyme that.


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