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rightonchime · 1 year

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Glint: Chapter 1

tw:// childhood trauma

“You don’t have to do this, you know?”

Her words echoed through my mind as I packed a suitcase. Clearly, I do. It’s the only way I’m going to get my way.

“Mom,” I spoke, finally, in what seemed like the first time in ages, “Just go.”

Her worried look turned even more downward. Her eyes seemingly began to sizzle as her brow furled. “Dad just wants what’s best. Why can’t you go to a normal college like a normal teenager?”

“Normal?,” my voice cracked. “I wanted to go to a school to learn how to write better. I wanted to go to a nice college. After he talked me out of even attempting to apply to any of those, now he just wants me to go to a community college if I insist on going to any college. He told me I was likely to just drop out anyway, so I didn’t need to even try. He has no faith in me. You have no faith in me. So, instead, I applied somewhere away from here, away from both of you. Something that sounded fun.”

She shifted her body into a more demanding presence. “Fun doesn’t pay the bills. Fun doesn’t keep you from living in a cardboard box. You’re choosing to throw your life and money away. I can’t even talk to you right now, I’m so mad.”

I turned away from her and continued loading things into a bag. She stopped speaking for a moment and suddenly stormed out of my room as I continued packing clothes, belongings, trinkets, and everything else relevant. I made sure to pack my roleplaying game books, trading card binders, deckboxes, and bags of dice.

With a deep sigh, I look in the mirror. “I’m just glad I was accepted somewhere. The Glim Game Academy is going to be great.”

Glim Game Academy, or GG for short, isn’t a normal school. Instead of focusing too much on the normal academia, it caters to those looking to create games. As a writer, nothing sounds more awesome than learning how to create a perfect narrative. It was either this, or the cookie-cutter basic math and geography that every other fresh-out-of-college kid gets. I decided to try something unique.

My parents don’t get it. My mom dropped out of school and my dad got a degree in basic business. But, the world has changed around them. They think I’m a deadbeat for deciding to learn about games. But, that’s what I want to do. I don’t want to grow up to be like them; hating their jobs, hating their lives. They grew up into hateful, angry adults that control each other and me, since they have no control over anything else.

The plan is to catch a ride to the bus station, since they won’t drive me. I bought my bus ticket already in advance. Everything is a-go. Hm. I know I sat my bus ticket on my dresser. Now, where is it? Since they wouldn’t help, I spent everything in my bank account to buy that ticket. I can’t lose it. It’s my only ticket out of this situation.

“Mom?” I called out. “Have you seen my bus ticket?” I stepped out of my room, only to watch as my dad was using a lighter on something in his hand: MY BUS TICKET.

“What are you doing?!” I yelled.

“We’re saving you from yourself,” my mom said, sternly. “Obviously, you need it. You can’t handle it out there and your decisions have shown us how true that is”

“You need to learn how to run a business,” my dad adds, “like I did. You’re a child and we only want what we feel is best for you. Can’t you see that?”

I was too late. The ticket burned and crinkled, small embers blowing in the air conditioning. Tears running down my face, I turned around and slammed my bedroom door, locking it. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t process why they would do this. I know why. If I’m not here, they can’t control every facet of my life anymore. They wouldn’t have their talons in me anymore.

I sat at the desk in my room, looking at the bag that I had packed that held a lot of my gaming stuff. I pulled a deck box out. It was red, made of plastic, and held a lot of cards in it, even when they were sleeved.

A logo for the brand that made it has since worn off. Faded, illegible words are all that remain. The box is one of the cheap kind that open on top. The roof of the box opens and closes on a crappy hinge. I ran my fingers over the textured, scarlet exterior. It has a slight bump to the entire box, not unlike the tip of a finger. I trace my own finger along it.

In my anger, the red seemingly looked more vibrant than it usually does. Maybe I don’t stare so intently at it usually? Maybe my tears have blurred my vision? Maybe the light in the room is just reflecting on it more than normal. I don’t know.

I don’t know what came over me, but I felt the need to open the box and look at the cards inside. I know what’s inside. It’s a deck of sixty cards, double-sleeved. I know every detail about this deck. This was Charms and Creatures, one of the more popular games out there.

CNC made its mark a long time ago as being a fantastic card game, which eventually spun out into various other media. I’ve seen it in so many forms at this point, that I couldn’t tell you my favorite. Even though it’s always set in the same world, different games utilize different strategies and strengths.

No one knows who made it originally. But, I know several alumni of GG have had their hands in working on it. I reached with both hands to open the small, hefty deck box. As I did, the red of the box felt even brighter, almost glowing. Was I just imagining things? Obviously.

As the box began to open, there was a knock at my door. I stopped for a moment. “Can I come in?” My mom spoke softly, “I just want to talk.”

I ignored her. She continued to knock. I opened the deck box all the way. A feeling of content poured over me. I pulled the deck out and shuffled it. The backs of the card sleeves had one of the old CNC logos on it, with a violet and magenta color scheme. After shuffling, I sat the deck facedown on the desk. Knock, knock, knock, the door rattled yet again. “Please,” she said through the door, “We’re sure this is the best way for you.”

I closed my eyes. I didn’t notice that my hand had slid to the deck to pull the top card. I flipped it over to face me and I opened my eyes. Surely, it was just some sort of basic card that I was holding. Surely, I’m not staring at my bus ticket in my hand. What the absolute heck?

I watched that ticket burn. My parents stole it and destroyed it. Am I crazy? That’s the ticket, alright. I can’t believe it. I shouldn’t believe it. I gasped incredulously.

Once I figured out my composure again, I looked at the deck that this came off of and realized that it doesn’t have the sleeve on it. How? How did this happen? I read the information on the ticket. Something felt off about it. My ticket was for 3:00 PM today. As it’d be impossible to make it to the bus station by three now, this one seems to have that particular part slightly smudged and unreadable.

I kept quiet as my mom continued to knock at the door and turn the doorknob. I needed to figure out a plan before my parents think of removing the door from the hinges. “Just go,” I shouted. “I need time to myself!”

She sounded relieved to hear my voice. “Okay, I get it. It’s been a hard day. I’ll check on you for dinner. We can talk about it all then.” I could hear her walking away from the door, down the short hallway.

This is my chance. I stuffed the deck back into its red deckbox, now seemingly a duller red than before, and put it back in the bag that it came from. I hoisted every bag out my window, one by one. This part is going to suck.

I made my way to the bus station. It wasn’t a far trek, but it felt like I was walking to GG by foot with everything I brought with me. The original plan was to catch some sort of ride share with this much stuff, but I didn’t want them to know I was gone. I just had to suffer a little longer.

My parents have been controlling and abusive my entire life. I wanted to attend some sort of university or premier college so I didn’t have to deal with them. I’m not even a kid anymore. I am an adult and I should have some freedom to make my own choices and mistakes. Even though I’m of legal age, they still consider me a kid. I’m sure I have a lot to learn, but I’d rather learn it from elsewhere at this point. I needed out of this abusive household.

I made it to the station around 3:30 PM. Maybe they’ll accept my 3:00 PM ticket in exchange for a new one at a later time. If not, I’ll have to figure out a new plan. I headed inside to the reception area.

“Excuse me,” I huffed as I dropped several bags on the ground in front of the desk. “I was hoping you could help me.”

The girl behind the desk turned from her computer. She was younger, maybe in her late 20s, but clearly had been doing this for a while. She was wearing some sort of basic, monotone uniform for the bus line. “How can I help you?”

“My, uh, my ticket here was for three. I was wondering if you could help me out at get me on a later bus for today.” I sat the ticket on the counter.

She reached and grabbed it, looking it over. “Are you sure?”

“What?”

“Are you sure you need a change?” She looked confused, “The ticket clearly states that it’s for four PM today. Boarding for that route starts in about ten minutes.” She handed it back to me.

I took it from her hand. “No, it’s for thr- what?” I read it. The spot that was smudged earlier clearly said 4:00 PM. This doesn’t make sense. I tried to keep my cool. “Oh, I must have been mistaken.”

I’m going crazy. Why is everything suddenly going my way? I took my bags to a seat. For being midday, I realized the entire room was awfully empty. I didn’t think too much of it. I reached into my gaming bag and pulled the red deck box out. Pulling out the deck, I sat the box to my side. Looking at the cards, I decided to count them. Fifty-nine. I know this deck had sixty.

I turned them over to face me and looked through them. Charms and Creatures, as I mentioned, started a long time ago. The original cards were based on more standard games, with Kings Queens, Jacks, Bishops, Rooks, and the like. Then, they took on some classic tarot traits. Eventually, they grew out into more fantastical sets over the years with the more fantasy-setting monsters and cybernetic robots.

Now, what card is missing? I built this deck. I should be able to figure out which card isn’t there. I think I know it. The card was “Trusty Steed”. It was definitely in this deck. Weird.

“Now boarding for 4 PM route to Glint Game Academy,” the loudspeaker echoed. It’s fortunate that Glint has their own bus station and route. Weird, but fortunate.

As I handed my bags to be packed into the side compartment and entered the bus, I realized that it probably isn’t optimal to have a bus line to a specific school. I was the only person riding this bus today. Oh well, maybe I’ll get some quiet me-time for a few hours before the next stop.

I brought my gaming bag as a carry on so that I could look at my cards again. I couldn’t make anything out of it and needed to study what was going on. I pulled my deck box out again. I thought to myself that I have another Trusty Steed in a different box that isn’t in use. No biggie. I’ll just grab it and another sleeve and complete that deck again while I wait.

I fumbled through my bag to look for the box with that particular card. As I did, I realized the ticket stub for my ticket was in the seat directly next to me. I must have sat it there when I boarded. I reached for it and as my hand went to clutch it, it didn’t feel right. It should be flimsy paper. I looked at my hand to find my Trusty Steed card, complete with its double sleeved protection.

What the heck is going on? I placed the card on the bottom of the deck and shuffled the cards. Dropping the tray down from the seat directly in front of me, I made a table to continue shuffling. I’ve got about two or three hours on this trip and I’m going to get to the bottom of this before I get off this bus.

I sat the deck face down in front of me. I reached and drew the top card, flipping it over and placing the card directly next to the deck: “Grandfather Clock”.

The bus driver yells back to me, still the only passenger. “Hey kid, we’re just about there. You might want to pack your stuff back up. You can see the academy if you look out the window on your side.”

I looked around, then at my cellphone, and realize that it’s suddenly close to 7:00 PM. I’ve been on this bus maybe ten minutes. What?

“Oh, sure! No problem!” I call out from several seats behind him. I combine the deck, box it back up, and stick it back into its bag. “All good!” Something is going on here. Or I’m dreaming. I’m still in my room back at home, missed the bus, and am going to apply for community college next week. That’s it. I guess I’ll just see how this dream goes for the time being.

I glance out the window to see a forested area. Then, I saw it in the clearing. Smoke stacks puff out light smoke from the top of a giant warehouse. Beside it is a giant tower, taller than any of the smoke stacks or smoke. There’s a rounded ball-like tip to the tower, like if it has a giant room at the top. The last part directly beside the tower resembles a castle. Or a private school. The kind of schools you see in movies that feel fake and made-up for the movie. It was massive, but hard to make out any specific details from this distance and height. It was clearly surrounded by a stone wall that stood what looks like ten or fifteen feet high. It’s a glorified art college. Why does it need a wall like that?

I could make out the school’s logo-slash-crest on one of the buildings. I had seen it online and in pamphlets. In the crest, the four tenants are shown: trading card games, role playing games, board games, and tabletop games. These are symbolic for the four primary curriculums for GG, respectively: game theory, writing, architecture, and fine art. I think they’ve added some other curriculums, but their crest has been the same for a long time since those were their original programs.

Okay, so, we are here. How did we get here so fast?

As we approached, I heard a noise from my gaming bag. As I went to check it, the bus began to slow down. It halted with a steamy hiss. “We have arrived,” the bus driver said. He got out to unload my other luggage and I gathered up my bag and headed out as well. I’m starting to get suspicious about this entire endeavor. I’d hate it if my parents turned out to be right, though. So, let’s see where this goes.

As I stepped off the bus, I looked up and my jaw dropped open.

#story #magic the gathering #dungeons and dragons #childhood trauma #nanowrimo #fuck jk rowling #charms and creatures #glint game academy #college kids #magical art #trigger warning #magical school #not actually nanowrimo #jkr alternative

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