N I C H O L A S

For the next two weeks, Nicholas could feel that Eve was trying her best to avoid him. The one thing that could get Nicholas's mind off her, was his weekly visits to a certain cottage on the seaside.

    Every Saturday at dawn, Nicholas would meet up with Mr. Elmore, drinking tea and talking about books and authors, about legends and poems.

    "When will they announce the winners for your writing competition?" Mr. Elmore asked Nicholas.

    "The deadline for participating is on Monday, but I don't know when they'll announce the winners."

    "And have you given them your story yet?"

    "No, not yet. I — I haven't come up with anything good."

    "How about the latest story you'd been working in? I read a bit of it in your notebook; that mystery story you were writing."

    "Er... I've never written a mystery story in my life."

    "Then what the bloody hell were those scribblings you'd done about this girl's murder? Nancy... something."

    "Oh!" Nicholas's eyes widened in realization, suddenly remembering that he written the clues they'd found out about Nancy Green's case in his notebook. "Sir, that — that wasn't a story I was writing. It actually happened. In real life."

    Mr. Elmore's brows furrowed. "Whatever do you mean?"

    "Nancy Green was a girl at our university," Nicholas explained, a familiar horror returning to his heart. "She... she was murdered."

    Nicholas was hoping that the old man would give one of his usual careless nods and move past this, but Mr. Elmore wanted to know more. After Nicholas was done explaining all that had happened, he fell quiet and watched the old man, waiting.

    Mr. Elmore was rubbing his chin thoughtfully, his eyes fixed outside the window beside them. He was quite for some time.

    "And they say monsters only belong in stories," he grumbled, and Nicholas got the faint sense that the old man was mostly talking to himself at this point. He then turned his sharp gaze back on Nicholas. "So the only reason he killed her was because he wanted to marry a lady from a proper family, and didn't want this Nancy girl to blab about how she used bear his child?"

    "Yes, that's what the police thinks."

    Mr. Elmore narrowed his eyes at him, observing the young boy for a second longer. "And what do you think?"

    "There was enough evidence to prove that John Carter was in fact the murderer of Nancy Green."

    "But...?"

    Nicholas sighed resignedly. "But there are still so many unanswered questions."

    "Like what?"

    "Like Nancy's family history," he pointed out. "When my friend and I went to visit her mother, she went as far as threatening our life with a rifle. And there's something about Nancy's father we still don't know. They say he completely disappeared one day."

    "Perhaps he had found another lover."

    "That can't be it. Because apparently one of Nancy's worries was ending up like her father and mysteriously disappearing. It couldn't have been something as simple as leaving his family for someone else."

    "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe Nancy was not as innocent as you thought her to be?"

    Nicholas blinked a few times, gaping at him. "I don't understand."

    "Everyone has secrets. Everyone has a dark side to them that they might not show to others. So what are the chances that you only know half the story of Nancy Green?"

    "I know there are still a lot we don't know about her, but Nancy was murdered, whether she was a saint or not. She was the victim."

    "And how can you be so sure?" The old man leaned closer in his seat, his eyes locked with Nicholas's, and the boy suddenly found himself imprisoned in his dark gaze, unable to look away.

Mr. Elmore went on, his voice now a mere whisper, "You might still need a few more years to realize this, Nicholas Pierce, but there is one truth to this world: we are all born human, but we die as monsters. Life changes us all. It happens so slowly and gradually that you'll never feel the change taking place."

    Nicholas was caught off guard at the harsh bluntness of the old man's words. "Humanity is not as horrible as you make it sound."

    "Oh, don't get me wrong. I love humanity. But I no longer like humans." Mr. Elmore leaned back against his chair again, glancing outside the window. "Maybe it's because those two have long forgotten how to collide."

    Nicholas remained motionless on his seat, his thoughts wandering away. "Humanity..." he mumbled under his breath, and idea slowly coming to life in his mind. His eyes suddenly lightened in excitement. "I got it!"

    Mr. Elmore turned his face on him. "What's got you all skittish?"

    "My story! I've got an idea!" Nicholas shot to his feet, quickly walking toward where he knew Mr. Elmore kept his spare parchments and pens, and carried them back to his seat and placed them on the table. "I want to write the short story about a scarecrow."

    Mr. Elmore frowned, not sure what the young boy had in mind. "And what's the plot going to be?"

    "Well, I was thinking that the story could be from the point of view of a scarecrow, built in a wheat field, bound to remain there for eternity, moveless. There's nothing to his life, and he envies the humans. One day, he gets his wish and magically transforms into a human. He is thrilled at first, but near the end, he sees the ugly side of mankind. He realizes that being human does not justify humanity."

    "Hmm..." Mr. Elmore began rubbing his chin again, thinking it through. "Sounds promising. Now do you remember what I told you about beginning a story?"

    Nicholas nodded. "The first sentence of a story is one of the most important aspects of it. It has to be powerful enough to hook the reader in. And the last sentence has to be beautiful enough to tempt them to read the story again."

    "And do you have any idea how you're going to begin the story?"

    Nicholas smiled, a dimple reappearing across his cheek. "I know just how." And with that, he began to write.

***

The next Sunday morning, Nicholas was shaken away. When he forced his eyes open, he saw a cheerful Shawn standing above him.

    "Come on, Niko! Wake up! Wake up!"

    "Ugh, what is it?" Nicholas tried going back to sleep, but this time Shawn had grabbed onto his shoulders, shaking him even harder.

    "They've announced the winners! Get up!"

    "What?" Nicholas blinked briskly and sat up, his sleepiness vanishing for good. "Who won?"

    "I don't know yet. I wanted to wake you up first," Shawn said with usual vim.

    Nicholas wanted to get ready, but Shawn dragged him out of the dorm before he could even change out of his pajamas, and only gave him enough time to wear shoes. The noticeboard was right beside Mrs. Hester's office door, where a few students had gathered. Easily pushing their way through the small crowd, Nicholas's eyes caught the paper hung on the noticeboard with the results on it.

34th ANNUAL SHORT STORY WRITING COMPETITION
Winners Announcement

1st    Shirley Smith    the Death of a Star

2nd   Donald McKenny    Something to Remember

3rd    Nicholas Pierce   A Scarecrow's Wish

    "I can't believe this..." Nicholas muttered.

    With a sad frown knitted on his eyebrows, Shawn said sympathetically, "Sorry you didn't get the first place like you wanted."

    "What?" Nicholas's head snapped at Shawn's direction. "What are you talking about? This is amazing!"

    "Wait, really? So you're not upset? You'd been working on it day and night."

    "Upset? Why on earth would I be upset?" Nicholas scoffed, his smile wide and his spirit rejoicing. "Almost all the students who are studying literature participated, from first years to fourth years. Even students from other majors wrote. And I still managed to be in the top three!" Nicholas laughed in happiness, his face lighting up.

    Shawn grinned. "Then I'm happy for you, Niko. Congratulations."

    "Thanks, Shawn." Nicholas returned the smile, patting him on the back. "Anyway, I need to go. I'll see you and the others at lunch."

    "What? But where are you going? You haven't even had breakfast yet," said Shawn, watching Nicholas as he ran back up the stairs.

    "I'll explain later!" Nicholas shouted back.

    As fast as he could, Nicholas changed out of his pajamas and got ready, hurried out of the campus and rented his usual bicycle, and quickly made his way down to the coast.

    After the first knock, Mr. Elmore opened the cottage's door. The surprise was visible on his face the moment he saw the young boy standing before him, the happiness radiating off him like rays of sunshine.

    "What are you doing here?" he asked, not ungently. "You came here yesterday. Are you going to make a habit of coming here whenever you feel like it —"

    "I won the competition!" Nicholas cut him off, not able to hold back the excitement any longer. "I won the third place!"

    "Hmph. Only third?" Mr. Elmore grunted out the words, not looking pleased. "Those judges didn't know what they were doing. I read your story. It deserved first place."

    "It's all right. I'm quite satisfied with the result."

    "Well, I'm certainly not satisfied! Do you want me to come to the university and put those fools in their places?"

    "No, Mr. Elmore. Honestly, it's fine."

    "Good." He nodded. "Because I wasn't actually going to go there even if you had said yes."

    There was no joking in the old man's tone, but Nicholas had to bite the insides of his cheeks to prevent himself from laughing.

    "Well, come on in." Mr. Elmore walked back inside and Nicholas followed him in, closing the door behind him. "I had actually sent my lawyer to town to buy me a bottle of wine for this occasion. Needless to say, this was at the time I thought you were going to get first place."

    Nicholas stopped in his tracks. He couldn't believe that the cranky old man had actually got a bottle of wine to celebrate his victory. Nicholas would've jumped and hugged him if he hadn't known better.

    But knowing that Walter Elmore was not a sensitive man and despised any show of affection, Nicholas merely asked, "You send your lawyer to buy you things?"

    "Oh, yes." Mr. Elmore nodded, giving the bottle to Nicholas to open while he went to take two glasses out of his cupboard. "He's very young and inexperienced to work at a law firm, so I hired him as my lawyer. I give him good money to shop for me, so I don't have to go to town myself."

    After drinking their third glass of red wine and a full box of chocolates, Nicholas found enough courage to ask him the question that had been burning inside him since the first day they'd met. "Why have you chosen to live here?"

    "Because it's peaceful," Mr. Elmore replied curtly.

    "Yes, it is. But ... I was wondering how long it has been since you've actually been to town, or invited guests over — and I don't mean just myself or your lawyer."

    Mr. Elmore paused to ponder the matter, or maybe he was simply too embarrassed to give an honest answer. Either way, he was quiet for long enough to finish his fourth glass of wine.

    "It's... been a few years," the old man murmured, as if the realization of the merciless time had hit him for the first time.

    "But don't you miss it?"

    "Miss what? Humans?"

    "No." Nicholas shook his head. "Hope."

    "Hope." The old man echoed the word, swirling it around in his mouth like wine, so perhaps he could understand it better. "For what?"

    "The feeling of looking forward to something; for example, when you can't wait to see someone again, and when you hope that you do. Don't you miss that feeling?"

    "Frankly, I've been living alone for so long that I can't even remember the feeling. Perhaps I do miss having company. I even need someone to come to the house and help me with the cleaning; God knows how long it's been since I've even dusted this place. But I don't miss the feeling of hope."

    "Why not?"

    "Hope is the world's biggest lie. It can give you life. It can destroy you." Mr. Elmore sighed. "Believe me... it has destroyed me enough times."

    Nicholas stared up at the man and the way he was staring into distant, drowned in the wild sea of his thoughts. He had never him look so lost. So lonely. And it was at that moment when an idea lighted up in Nicholas's head.

***

It was just another Friday night for Walter Elmore; reading a book by his fireplace, a light music playing from his gramophone, and a cup of hot tea in hand. It had been a few days since he'd seen Nicholas, and though he'd never admit it, he couldn't wait until tomorrow morning to see the boy again. Perhaps this was what he meant by 'hope'.

    Just as he was about to flip to the next page of his book, a knock came at Mr. Elmore's door. Frowning in confusion, he got to his feet with difficulty and walked over to the door.

    Henry isn't supposed to come until Monday, he thought to himself, recalling the date of his next meeting with his young lawyer. 

    The moment he opened the door, his eyes widened in surprise, though he tried not to let it show in his voice as he said grumpily, "Nicholas? What are you doing here?"

    The boy's smile was broader than ever. "I have a surprise for you, sir."

    Mr. Elmore narrowed his eyes at him worriedly. "What is it?"

    Nicholas's smile widened even more. With that, the boy turned sideways, placed both his hands around his mouth, and yelled, "ALL ABOARD!"

    Before Mr. Elmore could react or even ask what was happening, on cue, four other boys came to sight, entering the house one by one with mops, brooms, and buckets of water in their hands.

    "Hello, sir," a boy with red hair said, walking in as he carried a bucket with himself which seemed way too heavy for him.

    "Hey, Mr. E," said a tall boy, grinning handsomely while he carried a broom over his shoulder.

    Next, a beautiful boy with golden hair walked past Mr. Elmore and into the house, nodding politely at him. "Good evening, sir."

    "Hello," said the fourth boy, carrying a mop inside.

    Mr. Elmore was now staring at Nicholas for explanation as he remained fixed on the doorstep, too shocked to speak.

    "I know you said that you missed having company around the house and that you needed someone to help you clean the place, so I brought the help to you," said Nicholas, now standing beside his four friends, all of whom were smiling around at Mr. Elmore, standing there and waiting for his reaction.

    The old man stood there, staring at them for long seconds in silence.

    "Oh, fine! Fine! But you better not break anything!" Mr. Elmore at last huffed in defeat, closing the door behind him and stepping inside, watching the boys' faces light up. He sighed, shaking his head disapprovingly as he walked into the kitchen.

    "These freaking midgets..." He muttered to himself.