43 CHAPTER 42: What is Normal?

[George's POV]

Man, what Philia told me came as quite a shock. But it's been a couple of days now, and I think I'm finally able to come to terms with it. So, after learning my efforts probably won't mean anything in the long run, there's only one thing left for me to do. Sing.

And that's what I did. I sang, in the middle of the day for no particular reason. Everyone was looking at me weird when I did it and I thought Alex and Carter would come over to me just to try and shut me up.

Luckily, no such thing happened. They didn't come, they just sent one of their lackeys. It didn't really feel good to be hit in the face, but according to the person's words, 'my brain didn't seem to be working properly so he was here to fix it'.

My brain was working perfectly fine, and I told him that specifically. However, he didn't take too kindly to me refuting his words. Some people are just hard to please. I tell him that I don't think it's my brain that's not working, and he should fix his so he doesn't make a mistake in mine, and he gets really mad for some reason.

I was just trying to help him, but he took offense. When I tried to explain more, he didn't want to listen but hit me instead. Why would you hit me, the only person in here who's actually trying to help you? In fact, you should be treating me like your best friend!

But anyway, I got the beating he came here for, and he left. I'm not sure if I'm just mature now or just crazy, but I don't really care about pain anymore. Some people say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but in my case I think it's what doesn't kill you breaks you.

I get the feeling I'm no longer normal. Maybe I've taken too many hits to the head. If I could see the doctor, I would. I really believe I'm crazy, because what kind of person doesn't care about his own death as it keeps getting closer and closer?

If this was one of those TV dramas that my mother liked so much, I would probably be the villain who went through something traumatic in his childhood that made him crazy.

My frequent internal monologues and lack of speaking probably doesn't help with my theory. Someone observing me right now would most likely see me staring into space with a dumb look on my face.

There's one last thing that puts the cherry on top of my craziness: the disappearance of memories related to my parents. I find that quite alarming, even a crazy person isn't this crazy in the early stages of their life.

Why am I even talking to myself right now? Who am I even speaking to?

No use thinking about that. I'll sleep now.

----------------------

We're doing training with Professor A again today, and apparently it's going to be a bit different.

We're all in the training room, and there's something there that wasn't before. A track for running. I don't know what it's supposed to be for, but I'm probably not going to like it.

"You will all be running today."

Running? That's it?

I was confused, and looking at the people around me, I wasn't the only one.

"There will be no stopping once you have started and you will not stop until I say so. Now, start running."

We were so well trained at this point that we didn't question anything and got to running immediately. When we did, a timer on the wall started counting from one second upwards.

For the first thirty minute or so, everything was going fine and everyone was all right, but by the hour mark I was starting to get tired. Thirty minutes later, I didn't really think I could go on, but I had seen the type of things that had happened to people who stopped in the middle of training and I definitely did not want that to happen to me. I might not care about dying, but I don't want to die like that.

After thirty more minutes, I couldn't possibly continue and fell face flat on the ground. Not long after me, a few more people fell.

I stayed on the ground for fear that Professor A would come over to me and I didn't hear the others that fell get up either.

Surprisingly, Professor A didn't do anything and the others kept running for a while. Eventually, everyone was too exhausted to continue and all dropped to the ground.

Only then did the timer stop.

Professor A didn't say anything nut told us to get up and follow him. We struggled to our feet and stumbled out of the room. He took us to the classroom and told us to sit down.

When we did, the whiteboard screen came on and there was a table showing some sort of data.

Professor A stood next to the screen and was motionless.

"This was the only way for you to understand the difference between you and the other groups. There's no point even mentioning Group 1, the people there are practically a different existence from you, but what about Group 30?"

"They did the same marathon you did, but the first person to fall ran five more laps than the person who ran the farthest here. That's only Group 30, I could mention many other groups but I think that's all that's needed."

He made to walk out of the room.

"You can use this information however you want. Let it motivate you, let it get you down, I really don't care. A robot will take you back to your room."

What he said really resonated with me. Don' t misunderstand, it wasn't the whole 'let it get you down' nonsense. It was the thing about the marathon.

If what he said was correct, then Philia was not lying to me. I was not really sure about her story before, but this really corroborates it.

The quality of the people gets lower as the group goes down, does it?

We all followed the robot back, but I wondered if anyone was having the same thoughts as I was.

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