Arts & Life

Have you ever wondered about how the Butterfly Effect and the Red String Theory interact? During the summer, I created a psychological study where the question posited was “Are people who believe in the Butterfly Effect and the Red String Theory more likely to describe their interpersonal experiences as if they were destined by fate?” 

By definition, the Butterfly Effect is the notion that one small action can lead to a plethora of consequences. Each action could create a different ending. The Red String Theory is the theory that everyone is destined to meet because of an invisible red string that connects them. Both the Butterfly Effect and the Red String Theory have been in various media, one being anime. There is the anime “Erased” where the whole premise is that a man travels back in time to fix certain issues with the precautionary device being a blue butterfly. In Western media, the concept of the Butterfly Effect and The Red String Theory are much more shy; they’re harder to notice, but with a trained eye, they’re right in plain sight. In a trailer for the video game “Until Dawn,” the whole trailer is about “what if every action you do leads to a different path.” Another video game that hints at the Butterfly Effect is “Life is Strange.” This is the protagonist’s ability to rewind time to allow the player to see just what happens if they did things differently. Now, to stray from tiny wings, let’s look at tangled threads in modern media.

The Red String Theory in anime is much more common than in Western media. This theory is prevalent in anime like “Your Name” and “Your Lie in April.” Although not common in Western media, the Red String Theory has found its way into it. In books, music, and video games, the theory is much harder to notice. The novel “Jane Eyre” explores the concept of the Red String by Mr. Rochester, describing a feeling of “connectedness” to Jane by a string under their ribs. This thread is not limited to romantic relationships, as seen in the novel “Red Thread of Fate.” The novel goes on a journey with Tam to adopt a boy from China and become the sole guardian of her cousin’s child. In the video game “The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword,” the protagonist mentions being bound by the red thread of fate to Link. 

With so many references to the Butterfly Effect and The Red String Theory, you’d think that there would be tons of people who have at least heard of the concept and theory; however, that is not the case, but that is what my study hopes to unveil. There may be times when you wonder if you were meant to do something or meet someone, but with tiny wings and tangled threads, you are one step closer to finding out.

Trekking through the seemingly infinite landscape of snow, a cacophony of questions reverberated through my head, loud enough to silence any logic. This strange girl, Kara Lovestring, was leading me somewhere. She said she could help me. Maybe she’s able to ease my mind? I stopped myself there. Naivety is a weakness. She could very well be leading me to my doom. Is she working with humans? Are they hoping to dispatch me once and for all? Have they all been hiding?

I flinched as something came into contact with my shoulder. It was Kara, and that something was her hand.

“I’m designed to detect any grievances within a mind. You’re anxious.” Kara gently whispered. “Please don’t be anxious. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help.”

“So, you can read my mind.” I stammered, attempting in vain to maintain my stoicism. While stoicism wouldn’t mean much in the presence of a supernatural ability like that, the chance of trickery was still very real. I didn’t want to take that chance.

“Read your mind? Not quite. I can merely read what emotions are generated by your thoughts. Reading your mind would be an immoral invasion of privacy.”

“And reading my emotions isn’t?” I barely slipped another stoic sentence out, as my mind raced. Sure, she couldn’t read my mind, but she could read my emotions. She could see past my masquerade, and that was a problem.

“Well, it’s not as supernatural as you may think. Emotions are always expressed through body language. Your face may droop, and your body may slouch. I am merely designed to do these computations at a long distance.”

“Interesting. And, why exactly am I supposed to trust that? My emotions are quite the opposite of what you claim.” Her previously saccharine facial expression seemed to drop at this remark.

“Well, we’re here. Please enter that cave.” she gestured towards a dark opening in a white cliffside, illuminated by an orange light inside. Every ounce of logic I had told me to avoid that cave at all costs.

Unfortunately, I am not the logical person I masquerade as. I stepped into the cave, Kara following close behind. The cave was dark, but there was a soft glow in the center, illuminating some various rudimentary weapons and materials littering the walls. Right by the light, there was the very thing my logic told me there would be.

A human. Our enemy.

Why would this fellow machine side with a human? Did the human trick her? These questions blasted throughout my mind, but I quickly put them aside to pull out my blade. It was now or never. 

Kara gasped and grabbed me from behind. The human stared at me, unphased. I fought to break free of Kara’s grasp, but she was a lot stronger than I had anticipated.

“Wait.” The human spoke with a gravelly voice. “Kara. Let him go.”

Kara promptly removed her arms from me, allowing me free reign. I prepared to strike the human with all my might.

“Kara, do me a favor,” the man spoke, “I’m sensing another anxious soul out there. Go bring them here.”

“B-but… this machine is terrified! Are you sure you can soothe him on your own?” she stammered.

“Yes.” the man spoke succinctly. 

Kara hesitated for a moment, before shuffling out of the cave and off into the distance. Every bit of me wanted to take this chance to destroy the human, but I hesitated. What an odd decision he just made. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to learn more about this human, if only for the sake of strategy.

“Listen, Kara doesn’t know about you human hunters,” he started, “I know it’s taking every ounce of your being to resist killing me on the spot. I’ve run into enough of your type before.”

I stared for a moment, perplexed. He continued.

“Sit down for a moment. We have a lot to discuss.” 

Continuing with the FBI’s findings in the Mason Kim case, this pertains to the letters found in the Corvette. There were four letters found, this is what was written in the purple envelope, addressed to “Beloved” and signed off with “MK.” The following was discovered.

You are out of my grasp. 

Your love is out of my grasp. Maybe it doesn’t exist but it will soon. I reach out my arms for you, but no one holds me back. I feel no embrace, where are you? 

I want to love and in return be loved. I run to the silhouette I assume to be you only to find no one on the other side.

You’re the light at the end of the tunnel yet it feels like I created that light.

I see you in front of my first car – my two loves. I reach for you but you vanish just as soon as I can see your warm smile. Where are you going, my beloved? Don’t you want to see me? Because I can see you.

I can and will do anything for your love. The way you ignore me is unacceptable, why do such a thing to someone you love? I need to find a way for you to recognize me and I will do whatever it takes.

I don’t think you understand, I need you to survive. People tell me I’m obsessed with you but I’m not, I just happen to be wherever you are. 

This is fate, why can’t you see that? This is what love is. Why won’t you come to me? I’m right here. Why do you not love me? Your love is all that I long for and yet it is out of my grasp. Those affectionate words I crave, that recognition I want, that physical touch that I hope for, that devotion I yearn for, that romance I desire is out of my grasp. I will have you soon. 

You are out of my grasp.

For now. 

-MK.

When I was younger, and my digital mind was more receptive to new ideas, my chief imparted upon me a piece of wisdom that I still find perplexing.

“When you walk onto that field of unreal powder,” she told me, “do not forget that you will blissfully avoid the sting of the cold. That’s what makes you superior to the flawed flesh that created us.”     I never understood that notion. The flawed humans that created us, and all the computations that make up our minds, had to deal with plentiful suffering for simply placing a foot onto the snow that engulfs the landscape of this digital world. Against all my teachings, I pity them. It is this very pity that I find my mind dancing back to any time I ponder the potential of self-deletion.

Even among the relative tranquility of my supposedly flawless life, I quite often fantasize of the peace that comes with lack of life. That must be the purest form of serenity. No computations running in your head, no motion running through your limbs. Pure silence. But even then, I shame myself for my ungratefulness. I have been handed a life far less painful than that of my human

creators, so I eventually perish the thought of self-deletion.

It’s paradoxical, really. My chief granted me this job to end the lives of any remaining humans in this world–a merciful end to their painful existences from all I’ve heard. Yet, my chief claims it is for justice, that humans have wronged us so deeply, and that we must get rid of them for a true utopia for all machines. I know all I’m doing is granting them that eternal serenity that I have desired for a plethora of days.

These are all thoughts that dance throughout my mind regularly during my patrols. They allow me to distract myself from the monotony of walking through the vast landscape of snow and mist. It is rare to find any humans anymore. I doubt there are any left at this point, yet my chief insists that I must keep searching regardless.

I gazed up at the artificial sun, completely visible despite the obscuring mist. There it rested, in the middle of the dull sky. It was time for me to return to base in order to report my findings. My findings, of course, being absolutely nothing but the same old snow and mist as far as the eye can see.

As I began my trek back, however, the familiar recycled sound of snow crunching entered my senses, and I immediately whirled around to face the inevitable human that dared to approach me from behind.

To my surprise, it wasn’t a human I saw. It was another machine.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” I questioned stoically, ever cautious to hide any emotion that dared seep out of my mind.

“I… I sensed a troubled mind. You seem to be struggling.” a female voice replied, “It’s okay. Your feelings are perfectly valid, and I’m here to support you, Zen.”

I stared for a moment, completely lost.

“Who are you? How do you know my name?”

“My name is Kara. Kara Lovestring. I know transitioning to the digital world can be quite overwhelming, so that’s why I’m here to help! Let’s start with your self-worth.”

This is the FBI’s findings in the Mason Kim case, these letters were found in a modern red Corvette Stingray addressed to someone, but it isn’t clear to who. There will be a prompt before each piece. It was found in a green envelope labeled “My Love” and each passage is signed with “MK.”

“Sadness

– loving someone and them not loving you back” 

One-sided love.

Living a life of one-sided love is truly heartbreaking, especially if you’re the one who loves but cannot be loved. Sitting up late at night wondering if there is something about you that is so undesirable. A feeling all too familiar, yet everyone tells you “It’ll happen when you least expect it.” You love someone so much and they don’t reciprocate that love. That desire. It’s a one-sided love. You’d think it’s not love rather it’s simply alike. The two L’s,  “Love” and “Like” are different. “Like” is when you like someone but it doesn’t progress much further than that. You like them for the physical things you and many others see.

Stuff that you could like one minute but hate the next. That could be called “a crush.”

However, my love. “Love” is when you like someone and it progresses. You see the things that other people might not like but it makes you happy and that’s all that you care about. You love them so much that you want to be with them forever — even if forever is unknown to you. Having so much love to give but receiving nothing is a painful feeling. It does seem like an exaggeration but it breaks you. Slowly it breaks you apart. This emotion. This heartbreaking feeling. This yearning. This attachment. This one-sided love. – MK.

“Jealousy – loving someone but they love someone else”

Envy.

The feeling of love fills you up and turns into obsession. You look for them everywhere you go, whether subconsciously or not. It feels as though you need them for survival. That obsession is tearing you apart and you don’t recognize it. You don’t understand what you feel for them. That nameless and complex emotion of lust. After days, weeks, months, maybe years, you search for some confidence and courage within you and confess. “I love you.” Maybe you were expecting too much, but before getting a reply, someone shows up behind them. A sight you had been dreading. “Sorry.” It feels like your world broke apart, but maybe you’re exaggerating it. You walk away joking about it saying “it was just a joke” but it wasn’t, was it? From afar, you watch them. Hugging, holding hands, being all lovey-dovey, wishing it was you. You see them laughing with each other and it makes you wonder if they’re laughing at you. You start to think “If I can’t have you, then no one can.” You feel an emotion that does have a name but it is just as complex. A feeling that occurs when you desire something that someone else has. You don’t realize you feel this, do you?

A certain resentment that takes over all of your thoughts. Any time you see them together your heart aches with agony. Such an emotion has hundreds of names, what you feel is envy. -MK.

“Happiness – loving someone and them loving you back”

I love you too.

Loving someone can feel like the sun hitting your skin. That warmth. That light. That indescribable feeling. You go through your daily life thinking about them for hours, wondering if they love you back. Seeing them is like a breath of fresh air to your eyes. Being in love can show on a person’s face. Their smile makes your heart flutter, doesn’t it? The warmth of their presence makes you feel safe, doesn’t it? Go and confess. You’ve made it so obvious. “I need to tell you something…,” your heart beats out of your chest and you start to get all nervous. “I love you.” They’re not surprised, are they? You start to breathe heavily and your surroundings begin to get blurry. You become lightheaded. You finally hear a response. A reply. A confirmation. Four words that you didn’t expect to hear. Four words that change your future. Four words that make you feel like you’re flying across the most beautiful sunset. Four words that make it all feel better. “I love you too.” – MK.

My name is Azul. But my friends call me Az. I was your run-of-the-mill orphan in 2088, nothing but with an all-grey jumpsuit and a tracker embedded in my arm to make sure I didn’t escape.

Yeah, it sucked.

Sure the Great Ceiling more often than not rained flesh-melting chemicals and a walk in the dark could mean losing a spleen, but this little orphanage that I call prison is above all that. Well technically below, as all things in the Cramp (imagine a shanty town built into the collective basement of skyscrapers). We’re nestled like Static-Bugs in a rug under the green and picturesque sprawl of the Gardens, where the air isn’t recycled by barely functioning machines that pollute just a little less than they clean, and the soul degrades every day. Every day the air gets harder to breathe and people get nastier.

Except for me, though. I

Thats me, Azul Untitled, color-wielding, and (self-styled) badass

Now you know who I am, we can get to the good stuff.

My story starts the day I was almost killed for the above-mentioned powers.

WEEEEEEEE! WEEEEEEEE! I jolted awake to the sound of the morning alarm. 

“Ugh,” I groaned, “Another day in purgatory.” 

“Come on Az! We’re gonna be late!” said Elf, she slept two bunks down the hall where all the orphans slept.

“Can’t I sleep a little longer Elf?”

“Your butt gonna be tossed in the Blank, not me.”

The Blank was a room that was a completely white cube, so while it looked like infinity, take a couple of steps in a direction and you’ll slam face-first into a wall, while this is just incredibly boring for most people, my enhanced ability to see colors makes it even more mind-numbing.

“Fine.”

I rolled on my back and tried to sit up. And succeeded in banging my head on the bunk above mine. Which happened to belong to the biggest jerk in the whole world (and maybe beyond), Thrash. And jerks hate me just as much as I hate them. A big mouth and too much sarcasm don’t make a lot of friends.

I swore.

He dropped to the ground next to me and grinned. Thrash hated me since I got here, and was always looking for an excuse to fight me.

“Well, Well, Well, looks like someone is due for a little lesson in manners,” said Thrash. He cracked his knuckles and went to grab me.

“Come on Thrash, it was an accident!” yelled Elf. I shook my head at her. “It’s all right Elf, Thrash just needs to assert his fragile masculinity.” I said with a smirk.

His face turned beet-red with anger. “Shut up!” He said, turning away from my bunk and shoving Elf to the ground, “Stay out of this!” A crowd of kids had gathered by now, and a few muttered at this. Elf was well-liked, and Trash could sense he was losing the crowd whoops, I meant Thrash; however Thrash knew that the crowds love violence over being decent people so he resumed dealing with his original target, me.

“I’m gonna give you a lesson you won’t forget any time soon, blue boy.” He went to grab me but I slipped around him and into the ring of orphans all hungry for blood. He grunted in anger and raised his fists and started to close the distance between us.

A carnival turned crime scene. A serial killer using a weapon so rare not much research has been done on it. The cautious one in the friend group lives to tell the tale. The odd one in the friend group is nowhere to be found. 

Chapter 4: MASON KIM… Mason Kim, 18 y.o., Korean, always top of his class but quiet. I have been friends with him for as long as I could remember. The profilers came up to me and continuously asked “Where is he?” to which I replied with “I want to know the same thing.” There was a meeting between the police and FBI talking more about the profile and how Mason fit it to a T. I wasn’t allowed in this meeting but that one detective who helped solve Cooper’s wife’s death felt it was okay to tell me, but because of this interaction, the other detectives thought that I was hiding Mason but I really had no idea where he was.

His photo was passed around so everyone knew what he looked like and could turn him in or arrest him if they saw him. I realized at that point how much trouble he was in, when all of a sudden, the area went quiet with a single phone ringing, someone answered and it was from the hospital. The detectives congregated for a minute, wondering if they should tell me, I was relentless though. I needed to know what had happened because I knew it was related to this case. 

A detective from this group came up to me and said “Sam didn’t make it.” My heart dropped. My only other friend was gone. The poison was too strong, he already had a compromised immune system due to asthma. I was so focused on finding this killer I had forgotten about Sam, this was my cross to bear. I dedicated so much time and effort into something that could’ve been discovered without me, I could’ve checked up on Sam, been there for him. The detective handed me a tissue, I hadn’t realized I started crying, heavy. He asked if I needed a space to cry, but all I could think of was seeing Mason in the back of a cop car, looking defeated. I needed to find him for my friends. 

 I rejected the offer and walked away saying “Let’s find him.” I couldn’t think of a reason as to what compelled Mason to take lives or even why he does it. I thought he was good, harmless, normal. Clearly, I was wrong. I’ve known him for so long, it was just so unbelievable, even now after everything that’s happened, I believe that there was something else that in a way forced him to do this.

After about an hour passed and the detectives were just about ready to give up when all of a sudden, there he was. Mason was found. Sitting behind and under the mechanical works of the ferris wheel, there he was, manically laughing at a picture of me. I have no idea where he got the picture because I’ve never sent it to anyone. 

     This exact picture had red marker all over my face and it was cut up. There were hearts everywhere as well. It was horrifying. He was taken in for questioning and admitted he was guilty. When asked why kill his friends, Elly and Sam, he claimed “They got in the way of my love.” He was so mentally gone. Mason admitted to all the murders and said I was supposed to be the last one. I was the main target. When asked about a motive, Mason Kim said “I love her. I want her to recognize me.” 

THE END.  

A carnival turned crime scene. A serial killer using a weapon so rare not much research has been done on it. The cautious one in the friend group lives to tell the tale. The odd one in the friend group is nowhere to be found. 

Chapter 3: SQUARE ONE

   After hours of searching and connecting the dots, the police started seeing me as a suspect because they thought it was strange that I would insert myself into the investigation. They took me in for questioning but I thought it was normal because I found two of the victims. For a motive, they said that I had such narcissistic traits, I would find people who looked like me and disfigure them because “there could only be one me,” which is so shocking and made me laugh a little because who thinks that? 

  Once I realized I was a suspect I started answering the questions with more caution. The FBI started getting involved, and with the help of both the state and local police along with the FBI, there was now a profile. There wasn’t much to the profile other than the killer being male, young; and maybe in his teens. Someone who needed attention from women because of possible maternal issues. The investigation turned up a few love letters with no mention of who wrote them or who they’re for. These letters had graphic detailing of what the writer wanted to do to the receiver. The only thing the police told me was that these details matched what had happened to the victims in this case. I don’t fit the profile being that I am female. I thought about everyone I knew who went to the fair. 

Then it hit me…Mason Kim. My friend who suddenly went missing when the first body was found. I’ve known him for years, and yet I don’t actually know much about him. It only recently struck me as weird how he would only ask me how I was and what I was doing but when I returned the question, I’m met with silence or an excuse. All I know is what the police told me about his story after this case was closed. His mother had abused him all throughout his childhood and his parents had divorced. Custody was given to Mason’s father but maybe the courts were too late. Growing up, Mason was always with his mother because his father was almost always at work or on a business trip. He didn’t know his dad all too well so Mason assumed his father was a good person, because what were the odds that both of his parents were bad people? 

  The trauma had been set in stone. His father was the type to seem normal in public but horrible at home. He would make sure that he never hit Mason in places that can’t be covered up because masking bruises is hard, but the physical and psychological pain that can’t be seen in public done to young Mason would severely damage even an adult far into their own life. 3 years after custody was given to the father, Mason became an orphan and was turned over to the state. He was 16 when he was on his own.

    From what I’m told, Mason’s father had died in a car crash, his navy blue Koenigsegg Jesko Attack sped over a cliff and into a body of water. After having discovered that the killer was involved in Cooper’s wife’s death, it was suspected that the same killer might have been involved in Mason’s father’s death based on a signature found on each car. At first, this signature was written off as a scratch because that’s what it looked like, but upon closer inspection, it was the initials “MK” which eventually led to the suspicion of Mason being the killer. 

     I could not believe this simply because that means that 16 year old Mason would have had a hand in his father’s car crash. How would that even be possible? He was so young… We were standing next to each other one second and the next I couldn’t find him. I brought him up when I talked to the police which they replied with “Any lead is appreciated. Thank you.” I said you’re welcome not expecting much because Mason was harmless. He’d been through so much, there was no way someone so broken and innocent could do such a crime. Right?