He was the Copernicus during the early 14th century. He was the eccentric dot within a set of concentrated plotted graphs. He was the drop of oil to the water called society. He was a pariah, a vagrant who drift along the edge of the world.

His name is Will.

Society was trash in the 2050s. Technological discoveries and scientific findings seemed to exacerbate people’s living as they reached a limit that seemed to be purposely set for humans: making an end to their discoveries and explorations. Humans seemed to accept this pathetic fate of theirs. They did not resist. They did not even try. They have accepted their programming and decided to live the way the world told them to. Their way of thinking and actions retrogressed to a rather primitive state, insularity, making no difference with animals, sometimes, worse than animals.

Avenue 616 is where he lives, a microcosm of the trashed society. A long, damp road filled with a musty smell: dust billowed out from the coarse asphalt road as cars passed. Filth and small pieces-of-waste cascaded from the top of the decayed baroque-style buildings whenever a slight breeze blew by. The surrounding is not the worst. People are.

Neighbors spend time hanging with nameless women, returning to their dilapidated apartments with the reeking of alcohol and marijuana. Their minds were filled with indulgence; their small murky eyes reflected the rawest desire of secular joys of carnivorous animals. Deep down, he knew he was not one of them.

His name is Will. The streetlights were still on, and the night was accompanied by the mumbling of alcoholics and the humming of cicadas. Will returned to his fetid apartment. He switched on the dim light in his room, the only light. But, to be honest, he would rather live in the complete darkness, as the faint brightness only got him endless despair and a pathetic sense of hopelessness. Will’s room was in a greyish tone. Walls all painted grey, all the things in the room remained unpleasant: metallic cups, plates made out of stainless steel, iron bars behind the windows. A living hell, he thought.

Amidst the detached objects, one seemed to stand out. It lay quietly in the corner of the room. The warm-colored nature smoothened the rifts created by the cold edges. It was a stuffed animal, a teddy bear. Will stared at it for a long time, as if he almost neglected its presence or as if he was purposely trying to wipe out its existence and the memories attached to it.

He lit a cigarette. Smoke rose like a tender hand, grasped him, and brought him back to reminisce on the sweetest dream from ten years ago. Will was born in autumn in Minneapolis in the 1990s. The whole week was filled with sunshine and warmness until his day of birth. The grey clouds and fog seemed to contaminate every inch of the bright blue sky, veiled it in chiffon filled with melancholy, soft but impenetrable. Even the deities failed to acknowledge his arrival.

His parents deliberately picked this name. Will.

“Your father picked this name because it is composed of one syllable. Look, easy to pronounce, simple” his mother had said. It took them literally three seconds to come up with that name, no hidden meaning behind it, nothing but for the sole purpose of saving time. But he knew deep down, as a living being, he contained richer meanings than that. Will was blasé about the worldly joys obtained by people, despised the subservient attitude. He was an idealist. The unpleasant world dragged him into the abyss of withdrawal and nonchalance.

Unfortunately, an idealist will still have to bend before reality if they want to live on. Reluctantly, Will found a job in the TA, short for the Tnemnrevog Agency. His role as one of the officials was to examine every citizen within the city, to check if they have illegal possessions or objects that could evoke one’s sentimental side. Absurd, but  believe it or not, that is how the Tnemnrevog remains in power. People without feelings aside from admiration would create a peaceful society, no riots, no revolts. Hey, a peaceful society!

Arts, any form of art, would be a sin towards the highest authority. Cameras, paint brushes, vinyl records, films were only the tip of the iceberg. If any of those were found in any corner of one’s house, the object would be confiscated by officials and be immediately obliterated. Humans, on the other hand, would be captured with the title of treason. The authority won’t end their life at an instant shot. Instead, they paint the criminal’s face black, starve him for days, and then under the vision of the jeering crowds, they are slowly, painfully burnt at stakes.

Will often secretly questioned the effectiveness of this law, considering that people might only react more aggressively towards that extreme law enforcement. However, to his surprise, these creatures yielded without a word. They did not try to rebel. They didn’t even try. Pitiful. But deep down, Will was no longer sure about his determination against those people and rules.One recent event completely shattered and reshaped Will’s seemingly unwavering faith in his doctrines. It was a black Friday that day. The sky was covered with the unpleasant gray as to corroborate the ominous name. Will casually meandered down a narrow and dark alley; this was his job. He had been repeating this routine for the past twenty years. However, he rarely visited this small alley. Perhaps the reason he chose to visit it on a rainy Black Friday could only be explained by the unknown sourness and bitterness within his heart.

But halfway through, he captured a dim light leaking out from the blurred surrounding. It was like a single match-light in the darkness, elongated and dancing in the dark, instant hope that single-handedly fought against the overriding darkness. He followed the source of the light and finally traced it to a small house. Well, not even a house. A basement would be the right word. Out of strong curiosity, he knocked on the door.

Silence.

But Will cautiously noticed the light fade away. He knocked again, this time, with more patience. After 30 seconds, a warily sound rose from the inside.

“Who? Who’s out there?” It sounded like a young woman speaking.

“Don’t be scared. I’m nobody! All I ask is to stay for one night. Look at the rain. I’m sorry I don’t have any other choices.” Will replied. He intentionally wiped his identity as a Tnemnrevog supervisor.

Silence.

After 5 minutes, a woman opened the door. She guardedly checked that no one was inspecting and led him into her place.

Only when Will got in did he realize there were actually two people living here: the woman who just opened the door for him and a kid. It did not take him long to figure out that it was a mother with her three-year-old son.

She was a young woman, around twenty, where a woman was in her best of years. But the strokes on her face, those worried lines belied the age of her visage. Her three-year-old son stood beside her. His eyes were watery and big, filled with the kind of innocent and naïve look that no longer existed in this place.

Will examined the small, tight room. Boy, this place was filled with every kind of object that would lead them to the death penalty—an old vintage film camera, a set of art tools, and a longstanding vinyl record.

As if captured by his sight, the woman quickly explained.

“Look, we were not aware of the laws in this city before. We just got here. Please don’t tell anyone, especially those who work in the Tnemnrevog.” Her eyes were filled with despair and she would have kneeled on the ground if Will had not stopped her.

Touched by those intriguing objects and the people, Will answered “Alright, I won’t tell anyone. It will only be a secret that remains within the three of us.” The woman and the boy nodded.

After their first encounter, this has become a place where Will often visits at night. With a special rhythm tap on the door, the woman will open the door for him. He viewed this place as a paradise, a place where he could indulge his long-hidden feelings. Those objects weren’t delicate, only the remnants of the old days, but those can always bring out his most deeply hidden feelings that the society must not feel--nostalgia and resonance.

As they got closer, Will knew more about this strange woman and her son. The reason they left their original place was due to her husband.

There was often this moment where a husband’s eyes stray from their women’s being, indulging himself with cheap enjoyments outside. He has long escaped the grasp of feminine touch. He has the most cordial smile towards strangers but unveils the most primitive, beast-like side towards his family. Disappointment and hopelessness, the woman took their son and went to a strange city, so he couldn’t find them. That’s what she said. There weren’t tears nor sorrow. But instead, hollowness.

For a second, Will could not find any words to comfort her. Then her son came up to Will and introduced him to his small teddy bear.

A stuffed animal with dark, opaque eyes. It was this moment where Will saw his reflection within this lonely soul. Dull and redundant.

“Let me show you something interesting” said the boy.

Will watched him as he unzipped the back of the bear’s body. Aside from those pieces of cotton, there was something else. Something... more vivid and colorful. Unwanted lollipops, colorful pebbles, tree branches, and a shiny toy ruby made of plastic. The boy explained he wanted this toy to become a human, a human so that it could fit into society. “This bear was more vigorous than any human outside in the society” Will thought silently.

Good days did not last forever. Secrets will eventually leak. One stranger who lived nearby noticed the unusual existence of the basement and exposed it. One day, just as they sat and listened to the sound played by the old record, a clear shot of a gun broke the silence. Cacophonous noise soon filled the vicinity, stabbing through the tranquil dark night. It was the
Tnemnrevog officials.

An alarm roared within Will. He wanted to escape, the mother and the boy with him. But they sat there silently. The mother’s eyes for once filled with something other than void. She calmly accepted her fate, the boy too. They smiled and said to Will, “Please, don’t worry about us. Now run before they find you.”

Will was petrified.

“But I’m very satisfied, you found your lost side, and those were evoked by those illegal possessions. The fact that someone’s willing to share it with us, we appreciate it so much. Thank you.”

At that instant, Will recognized the other thing hidden in her eyes-fortitude. She had no fear, nor the boy. After suffering and unfortunate dealing from fate, they could finally rest. They took them out. They did not look back, nor did they resist. Instead, their eyes confidently looked forward accepting their final end. At least, they tried to resist it.

After their departure, the officials poured gasoline around everything, leaving no dry places. Cold, ruthless, they threw a lit match into the place, once filled with the remnants of the old times. Will was no longer withholding. Tears were streaming down his face, but he did not notice. He was numb.Will returned to the burnt basement, away from the jeering crowds and those officials. He did not change anything; he did not even try to stop it from happening. He thought. What was once a warm sanctuary was now in ashes and specks of dust. There was still fire. He stepped in, picked out the little bear, and took it with him. The last sparkle of light licked his heels as to pledge him to stay. But he did not. He walked as his silhouette and the night became one.

Nights were cold as a strong wind blew by. Will’s awake. It is 1 a.m. He is still leaning against the wall, facing directly at the stuffed animal. The teddy bear was long, worn-out, just like any other toy that lasted for ten years. Wounds and rifts covered its entire body. Amidst the dirty pieces of cotton and unkempt fur, he captured a glimpse of red sticking out.

The crimson red of the plastic ruby never seemed to be so unpleasant and wretched. It remained the same: fresh and polished. The fleeting of time did not leave any trace on it. Will stared into the bear. The unwanted lollipops, colorful pebbles, tree branches long lost their vividness, filled with dust and filth. Only the ruby remains. It is so lively; it does not fit into this world.

Sudden rancor and indignation rose within him. Will pushed the ruby back into the shattering body of the bear. He stuffed everything in, but its body could no longer withhold the dense objects. His too. His chest is too cramped to accommodate the weight of the word “Warmness” and “acceptance.” But what can he do? All he could do was to tearfully press the heaviness into the brittle body until the organs were mutilated and being crumpled into pieces. A ground of fragments and wreckages.