Inspirations for this story: Evanescence songs (Particularly "My Immortal"), a frozen river, Minnesota winters, and every book I've read involving car accidents (particularly the part of Willow by Julia Hoban that I've read).
YouTube playlist:
http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=45F867A31374D07F
(unlike the first song suggests, the accident was not on purpose. other than that, I picked it cuz it kinda fit.)
Summary so far: Deidre feels like she's carrying the world on her shoulders, and that she was the one who put it there. In many ways, she has. There was no way to tell what would happen that fateful night, not even a year ago, yet she knew that what happened was her fault. Three lives were over and she, the destroyer, was left behind. With her medical and legal costs piling onto her previously fragile family structure, no friends, nowhere to be but school, home, and sometimes the hospital, it seems like there is no hope for her. Guilt and isolation are all she has and the icy river in the forest, with its cracks and ever-flowing water seems to be the only escape...
Jamie came back home to help his parents move south, somewhere warm and never wintery, or so they hope. Winter and cold and ice and snow only bring back the night of their loss. His brother was one of the three killed in an accident back in January of that year and his family wanted nothing but to forget, though his brother seems to haunt their minds no matter where they go. Jamie had rescued his brother once, but he couldn't this time. There had been no chance, and the boy's life had been cut so short, by someone who'd supposedly loved him. While his parents are gone looking for houses many states away, he must face a week occupying their home, where haunting memories resonate from every corner, especially the infamous river at the edge of their backyard.
Broken Ice
The girl didn't have to go very far to get there. In the past, it had been easier to run, but today, it didn't matter. It was still a quick jog from the house into the forest, and she could be fast if she tried hard enough, making her way through the skeletal trees, the painful heels of what passed for winter boots a lifetime ago crunching against the snow that now covered the ground. She wore a grey trench coat because she had nothing black to wear for a winter jacket. No hat and gloves; it wouldn't matter where she was going.
The cold washed over her with the speed she was going, barely feeling the prickling pain in her right leg as she'd had since the accident, when this sort of pressure was applied. Nothing applied now, where she was going. Running, speeding, like she hadn't in so long. It felt like a rush, numbing everything in her mind.
And soon, none of it would occupy her mind.
She finally arrived. The river flowed so quickly, wide enough to walk across with little trouble and time, long enough to extend from town to more remote parts of the area, and deep enough to bury herself beneath the icy slabs, that looked like smaller scaled, fast-forwarded melting glaciers.
Deidre took one tentative step onto a large slab of ice, before allowing herself to step onto it fully. As the fast-flowing water started moving the ice, knocking it against other slabs, she instinctively dropped to her hands and knees. Like the Titanic preparing to hit an iceberg. But instead of trying to protect herself, she tilted the ice, until there was a large enough crack of water for her to slip through.
Her hands, then her head, then the rest of her, diving in as smoothly as someone crawling into a warm bath. The freezing water began to fill her, wanting to turn her into ice, and for a few moments, she was flailing beneath it, though she told herself not to struggle. Her friends hadn't had that chance.
Even losing breath, filling with this liquid ice, feeling nothing but cold, was less painful than knowing that they were all gone and she was the one to blame.
She closed her eyes and stopped fighting, waiting to meet them all again.
--------------------
His parents were gone for the week. And he was left here alone, and he wasn't going to be able to stand this place for much longer. He'd come back simply to help them move, so he could go back to his studies and occupy himself. Being busy helped him forget.
The place that haunted him the most right now, a place he despises now, but cannot avoid, is the river. It held the most memories, joyful and powerful, of his brother to him. In the spring, when the river was at its highest from the melted ice, they raced handmade boats down to the mini-falls, and in the summer, they would always pile rocks in it to create a freezing pool for them. The fall, when they were younger, they mostly avoided the cold water, and when they were older, his brother would sometimes photograph it. He always had an eye for the arts.
The winter was the most unforgettable time for the river, however. When it got dangerous, they got dangerous. Their favorite activities then were trying to walk across it, or as far enough on it as they could without falling in. Most of the time, they managed to get to either side before the ice could crack.
But one particular, fateful day, when his brother was seven, and Jamie was ten, a day like the ones preceding this one, the ice was too thin, and too slick.
"I want to go first," said his little brother, with a determined look in his eyes.
"Are you sure?" asked the older one, having never seen his brother with this amount of fearlessness before.
"Aha. I'm sure."
"Well, alright. I'll be right behind you, okay?"
The younger one nodded and he started across the river cautiously, but after a few steps in, the ice cracked, and the boy slipped in. He was small, and his swimming skills were not up to date; the river could easily sweep him away. His brother knew better than to panic. This day had been bound to happen sometime. He slowly crawled onto the ice, trying to find a thicker slab, so as to not fall in himself. His brother bobbed in and out from under the water, as the river flowed on.
The boy crawled farther in, strangled cries of "Jamie, Jamie!" coming as his younger brother continued to be pushed farther out. The ice was broken enough. The eldest brother pushed on, struggling not to fall in himself. And then it broke beneath him, right next to his brother, but close enough to the edge to get them both back. He dove under the water, reaching for the little boy's hands, using all his strength shoving and fighting against the current all while carrying the weight of his brother. The first thing he did when he reached the edge was set the boy on the side, out of the water. The seven-year-old coughed and wheezed, spitting out water. His brother then forced himself out of the water, carrying the boy inside with his ice-water numbed body.
He'd been able to save him that time. That was ten years ago. So many things could change in that time. And they had. The young man tried to shake the memories. But he could not. Gradually, he rose from the floor of the living room, away from the warm fire, putting on his winter jacket, a hat, gloves, and a scarf, slipping into snow boots, and made his way outside again.
He despised the river and all it meant to him, though he couldn't keep away from it. As much as it hurt, it made him feel closer to his brother. And it reminded him of a time when things were much simpler and he could be a hero. As he approached its familiar edge, he noticed an obscurity in the water.
A clump of grey and blue and brown... brown hair, a grey coat, and brown boots. A person was in the water. He froze for a moment, considering the implications of this, but he prayed, hoped, forced himself to believe that this person was still living. And he ran, long strides through the snow, leaning toward the water, and dropping his arms into it, pulling the figure toward him. It was a girl, a girl far too familiar, very pale, her lips and fingers blue. Jamie had a moment of hesitation.
This was her, the killer, the girl who'd done so much more than just cut short the life of his brother and two of his friends, but the one who'd caused all this grief and heartache and pain. But he pressed his fingers to her neck, a faint pulse remaining.
He saw the way his brother had looked at this girl, someone who used to be his friend, someone he thought he loved. And he knew what he had to do.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Interference (Chapter 5)
The boy stood at the door of the apartment, holding hands with the little girl as her father fumbled with the lock and his business glasses at the same time. The door opened, but the boy was still looking at the glasses... behind the lenses, information flew across them, just like main monitors on home computer communication systems.
“They give him all the info he needs to do work, even when he’s out getting groceries,” whispered the girl, with a snicker. “Mom says it’s kinda obsessive, but I think they’re cool.”
“They are cool.”
The girl nodded, as she proceeded to take the boy to a mePad. She pressed the button to turn it on, and pulled the stylus from the side of the screen, and also allowed the keyboard to come out, the mePad taking a more laptop-like form.
The boy realized that this was not a mePad, as the girl typed in a safe-coded password. The screen flashed with images of production of a product, lists of sales, locations, maps...
“Um... Are you sure you’re supposed to be doing this?” he asked, beginning to feel nervous.
The girl just giggled a little, as she logged onto some website of very old things, like cats saying silly phrases and people falling off their bicycles and what not...
“Kainni...” came a voice, not sounding very happy. Her father stalked over to the desk the children were sitting at, and slapped himself in the head, sighing exasperatingly. He gently lifted the girl out of the chair, and logged off the website. The boy took a few steps back.
“Kainni, don’t be messing with this, you know this is important...”
She nodded, though there were a smile behind her solemn guilt of her silly prank. “Okay. Sorry Daddy. Can we go to the park now?”
“If you promise not to go messing around on my business top again, you can.”
“I promise.”
Troy followed Kainni into the hallway, as they made their way down and behind the apartment building.
“How did you know you were on his laptop?”
“’Cuz of the glasses. Aren’t they cool?”
“Yeah... does he need them?”
The girl shook her head. “Nah. But he likes to keep up with his work.”
Troy nodded, somewhat understanding.
“Yeah... my dad too. But he doesn’t work at home...”
Kainni responded with a nod, which acknowledged that she actually did not understand; her father worked from home almost all of the time.
“I’m glad he doesn’t work at home,” said Troy, suddenly.
The girl looked surprised again.
“Why would you say that?”
The boy bit his lip, looking down, and nervous, like he’d said too much, guilty, like he regretted saying what he had. Why he didn’t like his father home was supposed to be a secret, something that shouldn’t be shared or burdened onto somebody else.
“I’ll race to the swings this time.”
He took off running, Kainni immediately on his tail. She wouldn’t let Troy Abbort beat her at racing to the swings. It just simply wouldn’t be right if he won.
Troy
I knew it was her. There was no way it wasn’t her. Like I’d said, I almost never remembered the things I wanted to remember, always forget them as they were overshadowed by the sometimes cloudy, amplified horror stories that crowded my mind.
Her eyes were glued to the screen with the music video. That girl in the video might be lucky, if that boy in the video did more than meet her gaze. If he stepped in and did something. If not, like most people, then she was stuck where she was, perhaps forever.
I didn’t like to watch things like this, read books like that, because I could relate to easily. I used to read a lot. Novels where the protagonist always conquers the bad guys. Where there was magic and sword fighting and other lost things, where no matter what happened, the good guys got back up again and won over evil. It didn’t seem to go that way for myself.
And there was Kainni. She’d certainly changed. I’d caught a glimpse of her former self in that storm the other day, completely immersed in her surroundings, taking in the moment for every succulent second it was worth to her. But other than that, the imaginative, talkative girl with her head in the clouds had seemingly disappeared.
This time, when she noticed me observing her, she didn’t tell me to stop. I couldn’t believe this was her. And at the same time, I absolutely could. Something, perhaps many things, had stolen her from the sky and nailed her to the ground.
Terra now opened the door.
“Well, you got here fast... are you okay? You look...”
“Yeah, I know,” Shane said, cutting Terra off. “I was actually on my way here when I called you,” he admitted, as he stepped inside, his gait a little less steady as the night before. “He had a black eye, the mark from the night before much more defined.
Your face...”
“Minor cost. I won this one, though. He was hungover, so it was a lot easier than usual...”
“D---it, Shane, you need to get out of there...”
“One more year, and I’m out.”
“Yeah, I know,” Terra replied, her voice growing quieter as she stared at him. “Don’t forget to take me with you,” she added, nervously. “Do you want some ice or something?”
Terra automatically stood without an answer to get an already-used, sandwich bag with partially melted and refrozen ice cubes contained within it. Probably her own, considering the way her own face looked compared to the night before. He sat down on the coffee table, and Kainni tried not to watch the two, as Terra took a wash cloth and the ice bag, applying it too his cheek...
I tried to keep my own memories from my head...
“Troy, honey, hold still...” she said, as she wrapped my arm with an auto-bandage, holding a pack of ice wrapped with bandage to my cheek. When she finished, I lifted my arms, painfully, to wrap around my back, from hitting that corner of the staircase after being shoved into it...
“M-Mommy... I-I... I don’t wanna live here anymore... c-can we go back t-to... to the apartment, and live with Kainni? P-Please?” I begged, I requested, through tears I tried to hold back.
She sighed shakily, and I knew she wanted the same, but she shook her head. “No, sweetheart... we can’t...”
And then her gaze turned blank for a second. “Your father never hurt you, remember that. He never did and never will.”
I nodded, though I didn’t understand, because he had.
And he would. Again, and again, and again. And he’d hurt her, too. Many times, and twenty times worse than he would ever hurt me.
I rose suddenly, as I blinked back tears for what had begun to flood my mind, and out the back door, not knowing where else I could hide for the few moments I needed. There she was, reaching out to me, desperate to be rescued. I wanted to change her fate, at least make it so she didn’t have to leave...the way she did.
One memory kept itself from coming back completely in perfect detail, though the images came in blurry bits and pieces. And that was of her death.
I was on the ground, I was in pain, but it was nothing, nothing like what I was seeing... the memory came in flashes of light reflecting off of the blade, a technologically advanced glove on a hand, the hand gripping the blade tightly. Blood was the most common, most vivid, picture in my head. The one thing that stained my mind, and it spilled all over the floor. Murmured last words...
I trembled at the thoughts, glancing at the bright sky for a second, before squeezing my eyes shut, shaking my head, trying to keep the tears from falling as things kept coming back, just the way I didn’t want them to. My arms were wrapped tightly around myself, trying to hold myself together.
I jumped slightly when Kainni entered the backyard.
“Hey... Troy, are you okay? What happened back there?” she asked, as gently as possible, looking a bit at a loss for what to do. I kept trying to regain my composure, but it wasn’t working very well. Never had such a simple scene brought me this close to seeing it all over again, with all those searing details.
Breathing had to be made my focus, in, and out, in, slowly, gradually, and out. But my breaths were short and shaky.
“Calm down, it’s okay...” she said. I couldn’t meet her gaze again, staring at the ground.
And then her hand gently found a place on my shoulder. She touched me like I’d been injured, and I had many times, yet almost immediately after this second, I started to breathe easier, began to regain my focus, began to come back to the present.
“I... I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I just...”
“It’s okay,” she replied, quietly. I glanced away from her, wiping my face with the back of my hand, my hair falling into my eyes as I turned back toward her. She seemed to be out of questions, as she stared at me. I hadn’t meant to break down in front of her, or in front of anyone. I felt nearly humiliated, but she wasn’t ridiculing me, she wasn’t telling me to snap out of it, she wasn’t saying I was weak... She was just standing there, staring. Her hand hadn’t moved.
I think I had begun to understand why she didn’t like me staring at her, watching her. She looked a little shaken now.
Her emerald eyes seemed to ask a thousand questions. I looked down. Gradually, she moved her hand away, but her gaze remained upon me, those eyes daring me to look back at her, as if they had the answers to all of those questions.
“Come on...” she murmured. “I... I think it’s okay to go back in.”
She turned around slowly, opening the door, taking a second to let me in before herself. I would have done so for her, but she did this with silent insistence. Shane and Terra now occupied the couch, the ice on the table, melting away, while its users had fallen into a much-needed, gratifying sleep. There was something about them, laying there like that, Terra being held protectively, safe, in the hands of someone who probably had hurt her, the two of them looking content and calm. There was just something about sleep that could either blissfully rob you of your worries and cares, or vehemently remind you of your horrid realities.
Kainni looked tired.
“Maybe you should try to go to sleep again, too,” I murmured quietly.
She tried holding back a yawn that inevitably came, as she shook her head.
“Yeah, I guess I should,” she replied.
I nodded. And she was staring at me again...
“But you look exhausted, Troy. You should be the one getting some sleep. You can have the guest room for now.”
“No, no, you...”
“No, seriously, it’s okay. Give me a second.”
Kainni watched me, waiting for me to move.
“Um, you can go in now.”
“I couldn’t, aren’t you tired? You should have the guest room...”
“Don’t worry about me. Just get some rest.”
She tactfully directed me inside of the room, closing the door seven-eighths of the way shut before her steps trailed off down the hall.
I stared out the window for a moment, drawing the blinds and closing the curtains before awkwardly climbing into the bed of the guest room. I closed my eyes, laying on my back, the blankets pulled up over my nose. I turned onto my right side, finding that I still couldn’t rest in this position, before turning to my left, onto my stomach... nothing worked. She should be here, not me.
I stood up and began to pace around the room... I was absolutely exhausted, but I knew I couldn’t sleep now. A rectangular object with odd plastic film then caught my eye, as it lay on the corner of the bed stand. I opened the blinds, and began to page through the book. Printed novels. I’d always wanted to see one like this, to really be able to feel and page through what I was reading. My mother had a couple of printed books, with real covers and everything. One was very important to her, one she swore upon, that she believed with all her heart was not fiction. I wonder why I hadn’t taken it with me...
Regardless, this book was much different. But it was extremely fascinating. It reminded me of the girl in the music video, of that song on the television earlier... it fit nearly perfectly.
But I didn’t want to read all about her keeping her secrets, or about her mother’s death, her father’s terrible behavior toward her. I felt my heart racing with the memory from earlier, yet I managed to suppress it for the moment as I mulled over what the author had written.
Had my own father’s behavior worsened after my mother’s death? Yes, I realized. Yes, it had. Observing my life with a cold, distant perspective helped. But it was still my life... it worsened, because after his actions, he found that maybe, the person he was supposed to value the most was nothing to him, and I was even less. Or maybe, with this realization, he noticed that I was failing at Abbort expectations and wanted to beat me into shape.
But this situation wasn’t like that... her father had been brought to a breaking point. My father seemed to have been the way he was for a long time now.
Calculated, coldness, and distance were all part of the way he was now. But he still “snapped” every now and then. I shuddered. But my mother’s diary told me the whole story... my father had been the way he was before I even knew he was like this. And his father before him.
And from what I assumed, his father before him, and his before him. Each had the same agenda in the end. Take all the power, from whatever source, which was robbed from them to begin with, and once they got it, they were consumed.
I didn’t want to be that person. I read through the book absently. Her day to day life seemed so normal, and yet she hid. She lashed out at her father, for once getting some of her power back, before having it knocked out of her. I wondered what would become of Olivia Lainie.
Would she grow up with bitterness at her father? Would she grow up, have children, and discover she carried more from her father than just genes she wanted to disregard? Would she even make it that far with him violent?
I read on. Her friends who stuck by her cared so much for her. It was lovely for her.
I’d only ever had one friend outside of my mother. And I now became distinctly aware, that I was not alone any longer. I edged toward the door of the guest room, opening the door cautiously, and to my surprise, Kainni met me right as the door opened.
“Oh... y-you’re awake. I... see you got a hold of the book.”
I smiled weakly.
“Yeah, guilty as charged. You can have it back if you want to read it again. It’s... pretty well-written,” I said, for lack of a better term. It was well-written, perhaps too well-written.
“No, you can keep reading it if you want, I don’t mind...”
“No, really, here.”
I handed her the book, our fingers brushing for a fraction of a second as we made the exchange. She looked into my eyes, questioning again, and I returned her gaze, wondering if I gave her any of the answers she was looking for. I wonder if she knew, too. If she remembered who we used to be.
Why would she hate me if she remembered? Or did she hate who she thought I’d become? Who I know I would have become?
“Thanks,” Kainni replied, quietly, her emerald eyes never leaving mine. Still it seemed she hadn’t gotten answers. Neither had I.
“You... you can have your room back if you want. I’m probably not going to be sleeping anymore today.”
She nodded, not really having anyway to argue against that, and I could tell, though she might be as exhausted as I was, she wouldn’t be able to sleep either. Taking the book, she walked into the room and got onto the bed, opening it almost immediately. It must have been pretty interesting to her.
I started walking out the door of the guest room, before remember Terra and Shane sleeping. I knew I probably wouldn’t wake them up or anything, but...
“You don’t... have to leave, you know...”
Turning around, I knew it was my turn to be surprised. Kainni didn’t want me to leave? She wasn’t telling me to leave her alone? This was quite a lot of progress from yesterday. Cautiously, I entered the room again, taking a place on the floor, closing the door three-fourths of the way this time, not feeling all too comfortable with shutting the door exactly.
Kainni looked back down at the book, devouring the pages quickly. I don’t know how someone could read a book like that as quickly as she was. I decided not to interrupt. I looked around the room. It was rather plain, with neutral colored walls and curtains, an accordion-like door signifying a closet, a dresser, and the bed stand with a simple lamp upon it. The blinds behind the curtains filtered in a good amount of light from the outside.
Looking around this plain room allowed made me feel boredom beyond relief. With such boredom usually came thoughts that often creep into my head while I am alone. Yet the sound of the rhythmic sound of a book’s pages turning reminded me that this was not the case.
“You certainly look entertained,” Kainni said, sarcastically, breaking the silence suddenly. She peered over her book at me on the floor.
“Oh yes. Historical interior design is fascinating,” I replied, a similar tone in my voice. She laughed half-heartedly, before returning to her book. I liked her laugh, even if she didn’t put all of herself in it one-hundred percent of the time. Her face slowly dimmed though, as she become more absorbed in the serious book. I watched her closely, registering the change in expression and emotion as she read on.
I wish I could remember more about her... when she was younger, what could have brought her to the way she was today. Thinking about this, I pulled out my mother’s mePad, and stared at the pages where there were locked, “erased” words in its crowded, flimsy, virtual pages. They were mostly coded for the safety of those who were covered behind. And then I rolled the digi-pen over one of the erased words... Natalia, my mother’s friend, her name had been erased before. I discovered her name, after falling half-asleep, only two days ago, pressing my hand onto the button that released the keypad, accidentally pressing a random code of buttons. The code just happened to be 6-2-8-2-5-4-2, which on an old phone would be where the letters of Natalia’s name would be listed.
I opened a page where there was another locked word. My mother’s best friend was Natalia Sawyer-Ceiltra, and she had a daughter whose name was also omitted and replaced by her respective pronouns.
I keyed in a code, taking a wild guess at the spelling of her name, 5-2-4-4-6-6-4. And then the name appeared.
Kainni Crystal Ceiltra was her full name. I felt a little bit strange finding so much out so quickly, so easily, having read of every detail of her life that my mother had known from her friend until we’d moved...
“You writing in your diary or something?” said Kainni, putting down her book and hopping off the bed, strolling over to me, crouching down to my level on the floor. I tried to hide it, but it was too late... the details were there all over the page, open.
“What the...” she breathed. She snatched it out of my hands, flipping madly through the pages. Her eyes were wide as she scanned over some of them. I reached for it, pulling it back and shutting it, grateful that digital books were at least sturdier than printed ones.
Kainni stared at me, wide-eyed. I sheepishly compacted the book and tucked it into the pocket of my pants, not yet daring to look up at her. Apparently she hadn’t remembered. Until now.
Kainni
My mom was in that journal. My mom's name was written about a hundred times in that journal. My name. My life before I was born was freaking written about in that freaking journal.
I was in that. And Troy was. I couldn't read it very much, although I wanted to read so much more, I wanted to know everything in it. Because although it told the story of someone else, my family was intricately involved in those early entries I'd scanned
And I was almost afraid of those diary entries. Why? Why were we in there? Who wrote them?
Why did they write them? How did they know my mother?
I stared at Troy, my eyes wide. How, why? Who?
He stared back again, finally. Still I had no answers to those questions.
Sighing, he finally broke the dense silence.
"It was my mother's," he murmured. "She... she knew your mom, I guess."
I swallowed, taking this in. He was the kid. He was the kid in my memories, the one I raced to the swing set. The one I gave the flower too, the one who looked depressed when it rained in school. He was the kid I showed my dad's busiTop too.
He was the kid I cried for when he left and never came back.
Troy Abbort had been my best friend. When I met him again just yesterday, I'd hated him. I'd just hated my best friend.
"My gosh. It's you?" I rasped, not intending to speak out loud. I couldn't believe it. It was him, this whole short time.
It had been 12 years since I'd seen him.
In my head, flashed the images of the Abborts, such a happy web-TV family, such a lovely group. My mother had always looked strange while watching them on the news.
In my head, I saw Alexander giving speeches ridden with propaganda that no one ever noticed, that everyone accepted blindly.
And in my head, I saw Alexander Abbort, pretending to be miserable. I saw Alexander Abbort and his officials announcing the death of the First Lady, Michelle Abbort.
I saw my mom in her bedroom, struggling to keep it together, taking a week off from work for unknown reasons, because some famous guy's wife died. For someone I assumed she hadn't known.
But she had. Being left in the dust for years without any contact, except for the times on the TV screen, and then truly, left in the dust, left behind.
She'd lost her best friend too, in a way I'd never even known.
And mine stood before me right now, alive. But not well.
Slowly, I began to walk toward him, closing the distance between us, and threw my arms around him.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!” I remembered us in the park again.
He’d accomplished the dream I’d forgotten, the one I had regretted all but a few hours ago, and that I now couldn’t bring myself to regret.
Slowly, just like so many years ago, he embraced me, too. It was unbelievable. And I wanted to hold on forever. I didn’t want to lose this, I didn’t want to lose him, like I had for 12 years.
Like Mom had lost Michelle. I didn’t want to waste any moment, any longer. I began to feel that sick feeling of remorse again, for my terrible treatment of him earlier.
“I’m... I’m really sorry, Troy... for earlier. Again. I... I just didn’t want to take... it was easier to just...”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I understand.”
He always understood. He always used to listen.
Who was he now? Would he understand now? Would he listen now? Who was he now? Who had he become?
And I, who had I become?
Could we still be like we had been before? Best friends... what did this 12 year separation mean to us?
And being stuck here. We were still stuck here.
“I am so sorry... you... you must have been... going somewhere with... the time machine, and I...”
“It’s not your fault, Kainni,” he said, trying out my name, yet it sounded as natural as the sun rising this morning.
The manual said no one could help time machine interference. But time machine interference interferes with a whole lot more than the location of your machine’s landing. I held onto him tighter. I had hated him less than an hour ago.
I’d splashed hot coffee onto his chest, I’d hated him less than an hour ago. I’d wanted him gone less than an hour ago.
He was my best friend. Now why was he here?
“Troy... why... what were you using your time machine for?” I whispered, staring up at him. His eyes were beautiful... he was an incredible sight up close. I’d never wanted to acknowledge the attractiveness of an Abbort before, many girls at school had shallowly fantasized themselves with this one here... and he was my best friend. And he was beautiful.
Troy swallowed, looking away from me for a second. Slowly, he pulled away from me again, sitting down on the bed. I came to his side, draping my arm around his shoulders as he stared into his lap.
“What is it? Why were you using your time machine?”
It must have been violating his father’s rules, the rules he enforced on every single being under his rule... more so, probably, his own son.
I felt like I was being stabbed at that second, considering that situation. What would it be like to live under a tyrant father’s rule? I nearly shuddered at the thought. It was just like the girl in the book, with her miserable life.
Though she only toyed for a moment the idea of escaping her life, for the pain it might bring others. And his mother had died... his father’s officials were hypnotized...
He continued staring, now at the floor, still not answering.
“Troy,” I whispered. “You... you wouldn’t...”
He shook his head, before staring at the ceiling, and slipping out from under my arm, standing up abruptly.
I stood up with him.
“Troy... I...”
“You think you know everything about Alexander Abbort? Everything you said... it was true. It was true, I wanted to say it, I wanted to scream it out at him every single second... but I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have mattered. It doesn’t matter now. I would become him.
An Abbort is destined to become what his father was, no matter how much he detests it. It’s like a curse. I don’t know how it happens, but no one can break the cycle... the women never make it.
I was going to save her, Kainni. I was going to make her safe, take her away from Alexander.
She’d be living happily, fully, having some real reason for all that happiness and joy she had. And I’d be safe. Far away. I would never have to worry about becoming him, becoming that monster. I am that way, Kainni. You were absolutely right. I still have to... I...”
I swallowed, shocked at all his words.
“No, no, Troy... you... you don’t...”
I didn’t know what to say. But my entire chest ached at the thought, although it still felt like I was just meeting him, of him being gone... having never existed, or at least, never been born. Losing a best friend again. Yet worse, never meeting him.
Surely it would make life a lot less complicated. Perhaps it would make things easier... but I couldn’t accept that kind of thought, not now, not after all this.
“Troy...”
I didn’t know what to say. How to say anything to him now. Uncharacteristically, as much as I tried not to, my eyes filled, and I turned away, pressing my sleeve to them, trying to keep the waterworks from running. I was not like this. I didn’t like this.
“Kainni... don’t... don’t cry, please...” he begged, his own voice cracking a little. “Please... I...”
I shook my head. And then his arms were around me again, like they had been, catching me yesterday, from falling. Perhaps preventing me from forgetting him forever. Maybe I was being a little dramatic. And I honestly didn’t like being dramatic, being emotional like this, yet, it seemed appropriate right now. I couldn’t help it after all this time and knowing that there had been a chance that... he would have made his goal. There was a chance that he still could. The thought alone sent chills down my spine.
I held him tighter, nearly forgetting what had happened earlier this morning. How couldn’t I have known? How could I forget something like this?
Someone like him?
I had to keep that out of my head. He was still an Abbort, wasn’t he? He was still...
How could I still think that? After all he’d just said to me, opening up so wide, when he’d been shut off for such a long time? How could I even consider that my best friend was lying to me? It may have been 12 years since we’d last seen each other, but regardless. All this time I kept seeing the bad side of the Abborts, and all I could do was hate and complain in secret bitterness, never doing a thing to change the world I was in until yesterday. And I had never considered that not all of them were the same.
Slowly, I looked up at him again, and he was still trying to look away, like he had been earlier, forcing his eyes shut as he tried to hold back his own tears. It wasn’t working. He started to pull away from me again, but I only took one hand to wipe a tear from his cheek. He opened his eyes, staring down at me. His eyes truly could speak, could tell you everything about him.
They were heartbreaking, they were beautiful, intense, innocent... I remembered, looking into them, how they could never hide a thing. I felt my own well up again, and as tears fell again, he wiped my tears as well. He knew he couldn’t hide anything from me any longer, and I knew we were too far in to get back out. I couldn’t hate him anymore, I couldn’t ever again. I couldn’t ever hurt him again.
Now instead of pulling away, he pulled me close again, and I stayed there in his arms, completely disregarding all the thoughts I would have had about this just yesterday. So quickly, things had changed for me.
I never thought of how alone he could have been.
He was given private schooling at home, the rationale most people assumed was just because of his father’s position, and what it would be like being “famous” in a public school. But maybe it had been something more. And if his father’s officials being entirely hypnotized. And his mother gone...
I couldn’t possibly imagine how horrible it would be. And now he was here, far away from them. We were both here, away from that corrupt time, having been dislodged into a different corrupt time.
Now neither of us was alone. Not anymore.
We stood there in silence. I was not comprehending that this was strange, that this was wrong, that he was an Abbort, that he was lying to me, that I needed to get away right now... this felt so natural, being here in his arms. Wiping tears away, tense remembrance, silent words spoken through the looks in our faces, as I slowly leaned my head on his chest, hearing his heart, ours beating in harmony with one another.
I would have time to wonder why about everything later. Right now, I just wanted to savor these moments we had.
But eventually, we had to pull away. I felt a strange cold, and hollowness, not being in his arms, not holding him. The logical side of my mind got a hold of me before I could reflect on this, however.
Dangit, Kainni, you are not like this! I thought. You don’t act like this, EVER, with guys, EVER, especially not in the first dang day you meet them...
But I knew him. I know him. It might have been a while, but...
No, no... remember that he is...
Who cares? He’s nothing like his father. He never was.
I wouldn’t let these old thoughts get the best of me. I would let the older ones take me. Ones from a childhood long ago, before I realized how screwed up the world I lived in was.
Troy sat down on the foot of the bed, pulling out the mePad, opening it quietly, scanning over the pages with a somber expression on his face. I hesitantly sat down next to him, watching as he read, my gaze wandering to the pages. When he noticed me reading and didn’t put the book away or hide it, I continued.
I’d never have thought that Michelle was like this. I’d thought she was just stupid, following Alexander, maybe just because he was the “man”, just because he seemed to be making the world “better”, that she covered for him when he was screwing everything up... but there was more, so much more to her. From a distance, she didn’t seem like a person my mother could ever stand.
But in this true, raw, journal, revealing herself, although she was very different than my mother, I could see how they’d been friends. She probably balanced her out. I could have probably known all of these things in depth, yet Troy was turning the pages too quickly. I understood if he didn’t want me to see too much too fast... I already had.
And so had he. My stomach started to twist at the thought of why this journal was so important... why Troy had wanted to save her...
How she could have died, and why.
I looked over at him, in wonder. He stared down at the floor, trying to cover himself again, his own eyes dim. It seemed like he might be trying to forget something, shove some memories down.
I thought of history class. I thought of old statistics of murder, rape, abuse, of vehicular accidents, of disease, cancers, of suicide rates, of all these screaming voices in the past that had been seemingly turned into history.
But how were we to know that they were gone or significantly minimized, if everything was being covered up by our “Leader”?
How were we to know if people went back in time and erased their births?
And how were we to know if we never reached out to people, gave them our friendship, let them in?
I put my arm around him again, watching as he broke down again. What had he seen? What had he felt? All I knew were the cold, hard, stats, cold, old, facts. Things that still existed where I was from, but worse, hidden, trying to disable us from doing anything.
But behind every fact and statistic, there was a face. There was a family, there was a person’s body lying in the ground, there were the scars covered and healed by a bandage that could only do so much.
And Troy sat right beside me, unable to keep all these things in any longer. I don’t know how he did for so long. I don’t know how I could have been so blind.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
I walked toward the boy, Troy, who was sitting the swings at the park, looking very upset. He looked like he was crying. I hurried toward him.
“What’s wrong?” I repeated. He sniffed. “I... I...”
“What?”
I looked at him, very worried. I climbed into the swing next to him.
“What happened?”
I swung side to side, moving closer and then farther from him.
Another sniff. I noticed now he had one of those little skin-colored bandage thingies on his arm. And another one on the other.
“I wanna run away. Can you go with me, Kainni? Do you want to go too?”
He looked at me desperately. I felt like crying now too. I didn’t think of how he got here, a ways away from his own house. I grabbed his wrist, not aware that it would probably hurt him more, and started toward the entrance into the apartment building.
“I’ll take you to mommy first, she can help us. And she can take you to a doctor too...”
“No, no... I... I don’t want...”
“Oh my gosh, there you are!”
Another person walked toward us, a woman with clear blue eyes and dark brown hair. I vaguely recognized her as my mother’s friend.
My mother had joined us as well.
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach you earlier, Michelle.”
I let go of the boy, but he didn’t seem to like that.
His mother kneeled down next to him.
“Hey, honey... we need to go home, okay? Please don’t run off like that again...”
The boy nodded, sniffling again.
“Come on. It’s going to be alright,” she said, patting his head gently. He didn’t look convinced, but he followed her to the hover car anyway.
The boy looked back at me, a desperate look in his blue, blue eyes. His mother gave a similar glance to my mother.
Warning signals.
I myself then began to bawl, crying harder than the boy had on the swing.
There was an unfamiliar warmth beside me, as I slowly began to awaken, my heart beating slowly with the stabbing pain I felt at this memory. And then I realized what was there, who was there. It was him... we must have fallen asleep at some point. Immediately, I rose, disentangling myself from his arms, surprised at myself. I started to remember, our conversation... the journal... the revelations.
Things seemed to be going in fast-forward to me some reason, one-hundred years in the past, with all these things pouring into my head, information overload. And now I’d fallen asleep...
I nervously eyed the digital clock on the bed stand. In bright red numbers, the clock unapologetically stated 12:24 PM.
We’d been here for at least five and a half hours. Most likely sleeping. Though I admit it felt better to have finally slept, that particular memory did not ease my rest. It was wonderful to see him still there, however. To know that all that had happened was not just part of that terrible dream.
And yet I couldn’t comprehend how pivotal all of these things had been, turning my entire world upside down to know these things. All because of this guy, one I had hated by association. Now I watched him, sleeping, his breathing even, so peaceful, childlike as he took his time away from this outside world. It didn’t seem like he was being haunted now, like our old nightmares may have come.
Cautiously, I laid back down, running my fingers through his smooth black locks, wondering what lie inside his mind now, what his expressive eyes would tell me if he were awake. All of a sudden I wanted to know everything about him, I wanted to understand. Other thoughts came to mind... like why I hadn’t remembered in the first place.
Why I had been capable of hating someone I had so obviously loved as a child. And now these questions took center stage, and all the dark places in my mind threatened to reveal their answers...
“Knock knock... you two lovers done with the ‘kissing’ and making up?”
The guy’s voice was accompanied by obnoxious knocks on our now-closed door, and I could feel my cheeks turning red. Troy started to awaken. “Hmm?” he said, slowly, regaining awareness of his surroundings.
“Hey...” I whispered to him.
“Guess not...” said Shane again, and I could easily imagine him turning on his heel, to the disapproving voice of Terra, “Just leave them alone”, I could hear her say.
I wondered if I wanted to be left alone again. It was already so strange, thinking of all of this. So terrible, what I knew now. And yet, so wonderful at the same time, this reunion.
“Hey,” he murmured, and smiled again, that weak, gentle smile, so rare. I loved it then, and I did now. I couldn’t help but smile back. If only there was an automatic time machine button, with fast-forward, and rewind, functions for everyday life. Especially now.
My logical brain, as usual, was screaming, shrieking at me to get out and away from here, and it was all going too fast, and we had only been friends, and we hadn’t seen each other in 12 years, and he was an Abbort, dang it, an Abbort! What on earth could I possibly be thinking? What could drive me to such sudden and illogical insanity?!
I ignored it again, the second time in my life since 12 years ago, the second time within about six hours, and stared into those beautiful eyes. He stared shyly back into mine. And then suddenly tore his gaze away from mine, looking away, his cheeks turning red.
Just like that time in the park, 12 long years ago.
“W-Well, I suppose we should go see what’s going on now... you know, out...-side of the g-guest room...” he said.
I nodded in agreement, standing up quickly again. I combed my fingers through my hair, before going to the door of the room, my hand on the doorknob, meeting another’s without warning.
I couldn’t hide the rose color appearing on my cheeks once again. I let go, and he opened the door, waiting for me to pass through, and we didn’t meet each other’s eyes again. I knew he was blushing again too.
Gosh dang, what was happening to me? This was worse than that terrible, ancient Shakespearean play, Romeo and Juliet, it felt even faster than that.
We made our way to the kitchen, where Terra was standing by the oven, its light glowing as something seemingly “convenient” (probably had been frozen; the toppings including little round, red circles, meat, I assumed, and cheese, crust... things I would never get to eat at “home”, what with my mother’s aversion to such foods) and capable of being baked within 20 long minutes sat within it. She seemed to be much better than she had been earlier, as did Shane, though his face didn’t look seem to have the same effect, although it seemed some swelling may have gone down with the ice.
It made me feel uneasy, knowing why...
“Soo... I’m assuming you guys are doing better?” Terra inquired, as she looked over at the oven’s timer. Man, things took a while back then. I was glad she wasn’t looking at me, however. What they would have assumed was... ugh, I shoved the thought away.
“Yeah, we are,” I said, trying to keep up the act from earlier, that with the new information crowding my head made me nearly forget. I elbowed Troy subtly, for his re-affirming response.
“Oh, yes. Yeah, we’re doing much better than earlier. Very much so...”
Another elbow to the ribs to cut him off. He was absolutely horrible at acting and at lying. True, we were doing much better than earlier. But the couple was now looking at us, probing stares. Ha, they would know too much too easy if anything had happened.
How did anyone keep a relationships like that anyway? Certainly something to ponder some other time...
“Well, that’s good,” said Terra, glancing at the timer again. Shane was now watching her, and she didn’t seem to be paying much attention to him. They didn’t seem to be the most awake and alert of the moment either, yet, I was sure they’d been up quite a bit longer than Troy and I had been.
“When’s your mom gonna be home again, Ter?” Shane asked, moving to stand next to Terra by the counter.
“Six o’clock. Probably going to be more around six-thirty, though, with her working so far into town and all. Don’t worry about it,” said Terra, waving the time away with her hand, stating her and Shane’s mantra. Don’t worry about it.
That torn picture on her mirror, what did he think of it? Perhaps he’d ripped it apart a couple of times as well. But it was in her room. However, they could share it a whole lot more than I’d like to know.
I realized now, that I did not like to look at Terra, or to look at those photographs of her. Because although her hazel eyes, light brown hair, and slightly tanned skin defied the physical characteristics of her, and her actions were not nearly the same, she reminded me of my mother.
And of course, that dreaded last name. She looked at me for a second, thoughtfully, before speaking again.
“Hey, anything you two wanted to do today? I mean, my place isn’t all that exciting, and... I guess you’re trying to get away from some people, but...”
“Oh, we’re fine,” I said, a little too quickly. I really did want to get out of here. But there was that act, that stupid act, the only one that would make sense in this world.
It wasn’t as though I could just outright say, “We’re actually from the future, and our time machines crashed, so now we’re stuck here, and sure, I’d love to get out of this place right now!”
No, that just would not do. So this would have to do for now. Terra focused back onto the oven again, Shane watching her for a moment, with some unidentifiable emotion on his face, before shuffling with a few faltering steps back to the couch, to watch the continuously energy-wasting television again.
Terra now had her gaze on him, sighing, before getting back to the laggy piece of technology her attention now focused upon. Some sort of distraction from some thoughts she might want to keep from her mind. Yet when her glance left to stare at us, Troy’s arm was suddenly around my shoulder. What was he doing?
Well... I guess if we were supposed to be a couple who had just made up from something... did they all act like this when they made up? And what problems were we going to pretend to have? I didn’t like this act, but I guess we should figure out how to be thorough...
A thought crossed my mind, one I wanted to store away quickly, for fear that the stupid, childish blush that had appeared on our faces only moments ago would return to me in public. And yet I still leaned closer to Troy.
Perhaps it shouldn’t be an act. My cheeks felt hot at the thought returning. Dang it, I just can’t push it away... I couldn’t push him away again.
It sure would have been awkward in this place, I realized, if there hadn’t been the background noise of the “T.V.” The other two seemed to be absorbed in their own reflections, that oven seemingly so fascinating, the images of the television screen incredibly interesting. Or so they wanted to convey.
“Well, I guess we could walk around the neighborhood again for a while, if that’s okay...”
“Um, okay,” said Terra, her concentration broken for a second. “Sure. Uh... I can call you guys in when lunch is ready, if you want.”
I nodded. “Sure. Well, see you two later.”
Shane shot us a “thumbs up” from the couch, waving us off absently, as Troy and I turned toward the back door. He opened it again, beating me to the handle again. I passed through, pettily resenting the action for a moment, because I had wanted to open the door this time, but I disregarded it. He was just being... nice, I guess. I wouldn’t expect any less from him.
In spite of this, I picked up the pace a bit to the gate of the flimsy fence out of Terra’s backyard, unlocking and opening it with unnecessary enthusiasm. I knew my face had to look a little smug. Troy just smiled, laughing a little, much more lighthearted than I expected of him, as he ran through the gate.
"Maybe you haven't changed all that much since you were little," he commented. I glared at him slightly, maybe making him regret what he had said. But I wondered if he was right. Had I changed, or had I not? Did I want to?
"And what do you mean by that?" I said, my hands now on my hips. My gosh, I hadn't changed a lot since I was little... or, maybe it was just him restoring my youthful, competitive side back to where it had once been. I associated it with being immature, with being childish, simply because I'd only been that way when I was young.
"I don't know. You still think you're faster than me," he replied, smiling again. I'd never seen Troy Abbort this cheerful before. It made me suspicious. But I couldn't let him get away with that comment.
"Troy, I don't think, I know," I replied, with mock superiority, smirking.
"Is that a challenge?"
"Maybe it is."
And with that, I took off running, to no particular point of interest, speeding up as I passed the tree from earlier that morning, and down past some signs, across streets, still used to the activity for my mother's own physical activity requirements for our family, which was enough to make up for my lack of athletic-academic involvement. I ran, ignoring this reminder of her for once, keeping my spirits high with this competition, unwilling to lose, just like I hadn't back when we had been much younger.
Soon, unfortunately for myself, I heard Troy's steps catching up with mine, and I sped even faster. I didn't know how far from Terra's we were now, just that I was determined not to lose to Troy Abbort. He didn't win races with me, never had, determined not to let him now. We began nearing a park, not unlike the one that had once been behind our old apartment building, and I raced onto the grass, around the playground equipment and through the clearing.
What I had not taken into account, however, was obstacles that I could not see. My foot unexpectedly got caught in a stray root, and I came crashing to the ground, gratefully not on pavement. I struggled to get up again, my pride not wanting me to let go of this, when another joined me on the ground in a similar manner, less than an inch from landing on top of me.
We both had the wind knocked out of us, both struggling to keep our breath, but ignoring the pain, somehow, chimes of laughter echoed from within us, this lightness I was sure neither of us had felt in years.
Troy
Crashing onto the ground anywhere, at any time, was never very pleasant, yet at this moment now, it seemed to be the happiest thing in the world. Already out of breath, we laughed on the ground, unable to stop, just laying there, simply unceasing, and despite our lack of breath, a lightness had consumed us.
If I had ever felt like this before, I didn't remember it. And the only time I could ever imagine feeling this way, would be in a very similar situation.
Eventually, we had to stop to breathe, but by this point, we were sitting up again, and I looked over at her. I had never felt this way before. Such joy just didn't seem to be the way that I was ever made to feel. Yet all my cares, all my terrors and fears and pain seemed to exit me for these full, lovely moments.
And to have her staring back at me, those green eyes so bright like they once had been, just as I remembered them. She was still smiling. I loved that smile, so much. And it had just been so long... I had to cherish these moments now, because something tugged at my heart, telling me that there may not be much time for us, that we could be separated again, so quickly, so easily.
I reached for her hand, intending to help her stand up with me, but rather, we remained planted on the ground. She took my other hand, and stared me in the eyes, shifting to sit right across from me, her eyes bright and beautiful, yet intense on mine now.
We began to come closer, compelled to move closer, closer, until there would be no space in between our faces. My heart raced, and I knew it was early, something inside screamed it was too early, but logic and common sense had deserted me the moment she realized who we were.
Our eyes closed slowly, and our lips met, our fingers interlocked, before we let go, and we pulled away for all but a second to stand, and my arms came around her waist, hers around my neck. Once again, she had stolen my breath.
Those moments were wonderful, even as we pulled away, and I was left with the ghost of that feeling of her lips against mine, but I could not, would not, ever, forget this. She stared up at me, a mixture of surprise and similar, dazed wonder on her face, and I hoped she felt as good as I did then.
Speech would ruin these moments, so I swallowed my words, taking her hand, silently agreeing to go back to Terra's home, yet I knew we were not the same fake "couple" we had been before.
We took our sweet time, time I suddenly felt like I had, our silence comfortable with the memories fresh in our mind. I'd never known we'd become this way so soon.
Part of me wondered, if I'd never moved, if we'd ever have ended up like this. With the sparse memories I did see, I was sure we most likely would have. A slight bit of guilt threatened to ruin this time for me, thinking of how quickly this was going, too quickly to be good or realistic, but I tried not to let myself care. Should I care? Was it too fast?
With the guilt, the thoughts of my lack of immunity from the disorder that was being an Abbort crept into my head, images of the destructive person that could come from me wishing to overthrow what had seemed to be so wonderful.
No, I told myself. I would never become that way. Not here. Maybe I could be immune here. Maybe I could resist it here.
The hope that had seemed low and lost the other day had somehow sprung up in me again. Maybe I COULD resist it here. And everything would be pure bliss, with my best friend... someone even more than that now.
I almost regretted it as we arrived at the gate into Terra's backyard, stepping back to allow Kainni to decide whether she wanted to open it or I, and surprisingly, she stepped back as well, and I opened it for her, while she hurried away from me again to go open the back door, smiling playfully again. I laughed slightly, and followed her lead back inside.
“They give him all the info he needs to do work, even when he’s out getting groceries,” whispered the girl, with a snicker. “Mom says it’s kinda obsessive, but I think they’re cool.”
“They are cool.”
The girl nodded, as she proceeded to take the boy to a mePad. She pressed the button to turn it on, and pulled the stylus from the side of the screen, and also allowed the keyboard to come out, the mePad taking a more laptop-like form.
The boy realized that this was not a mePad, as the girl typed in a safe-coded password. The screen flashed with images of production of a product, lists of sales, locations, maps...
“Um... Are you sure you’re supposed to be doing this?” he asked, beginning to feel nervous.
The girl just giggled a little, as she logged onto some website of very old things, like cats saying silly phrases and people falling off their bicycles and what not...
“Kainni...” came a voice, not sounding very happy. Her father stalked over to the desk the children were sitting at, and slapped himself in the head, sighing exasperatingly. He gently lifted the girl out of the chair, and logged off the website. The boy took a few steps back.
“Kainni, don’t be messing with this, you know this is important...”
She nodded, though there were a smile behind her solemn guilt of her silly prank. “Okay. Sorry Daddy. Can we go to the park now?”
“If you promise not to go messing around on my business top again, you can.”
“I promise.”
Troy followed Kainni into the hallway, as they made their way down and behind the apartment building.
“How did you know you were on his laptop?”
“’Cuz of the glasses. Aren’t they cool?”
“Yeah... does he need them?”
The girl shook her head. “Nah. But he likes to keep up with his work.”
Troy nodded, somewhat understanding.
“Yeah... my dad too. But he doesn’t work at home...”
Kainni responded with a nod, which acknowledged that she actually did not understand; her father worked from home almost all of the time.
“I’m glad he doesn’t work at home,” said Troy, suddenly.
The girl looked surprised again.
“Why would you say that?”
The boy bit his lip, looking down, and nervous, like he’d said too much, guilty, like he regretted saying what he had. Why he didn’t like his father home was supposed to be a secret, something that shouldn’t be shared or burdened onto somebody else.
“I’ll race to the swings this time.”
He took off running, Kainni immediately on his tail. She wouldn’t let Troy Abbort beat her at racing to the swings. It just simply wouldn’t be right if he won.
Troy
I knew it was her. There was no way it wasn’t her. Like I’d said, I almost never remembered the things I wanted to remember, always forget them as they were overshadowed by the sometimes cloudy, amplified horror stories that crowded my mind.
Her eyes were glued to the screen with the music video. That girl in the video might be lucky, if that boy in the video did more than meet her gaze. If he stepped in and did something. If not, like most people, then she was stuck where she was, perhaps forever.
I didn’t like to watch things like this, read books like that, because I could relate to easily. I used to read a lot. Novels where the protagonist always conquers the bad guys. Where there was magic and sword fighting and other lost things, where no matter what happened, the good guys got back up again and won over evil. It didn’t seem to go that way for myself.
And there was Kainni. She’d certainly changed. I’d caught a glimpse of her former self in that storm the other day, completely immersed in her surroundings, taking in the moment for every succulent second it was worth to her. But other than that, the imaginative, talkative girl with her head in the clouds had seemingly disappeared.
This time, when she noticed me observing her, she didn’t tell me to stop. I couldn’t believe this was her. And at the same time, I absolutely could. Something, perhaps many things, had stolen her from the sky and nailed her to the ground.
Terra now opened the door.
“Well, you got here fast... are you okay? You look...”
“Yeah, I know,” Shane said, cutting Terra off. “I was actually on my way here when I called you,” he admitted, as he stepped inside, his gait a little less steady as the night before. “He had a black eye, the mark from the night before much more defined.
Your face...”
“Minor cost. I won this one, though. He was hungover, so it was a lot easier than usual...”
“D---it, Shane, you need to get out of there...”
“One more year, and I’m out.”
“Yeah, I know,” Terra replied, her voice growing quieter as she stared at him. “Don’t forget to take me with you,” she added, nervously. “Do you want some ice or something?”
Terra automatically stood without an answer to get an already-used, sandwich bag with partially melted and refrozen ice cubes contained within it. Probably her own, considering the way her own face looked compared to the night before. He sat down on the coffee table, and Kainni tried not to watch the two, as Terra took a wash cloth and the ice bag, applying it too his cheek...
I tried to keep my own memories from my head...
“Troy, honey, hold still...” she said, as she wrapped my arm with an auto-bandage, holding a pack of ice wrapped with bandage to my cheek. When she finished, I lifted my arms, painfully, to wrap around my back, from hitting that corner of the staircase after being shoved into it...
“M-Mommy... I-I... I don’t wanna live here anymore... c-can we go back t-to... to the apartment, and live with Kainni? P-Please?” I begged, I requested, through tears I tried to hold back.
She sighed shakily, and I knew she wanted the same, but she shook her head. “No, sweetheart... we can’t...”
And then her gaze turned blank for a second. “Your father never hurt you, remember that. He never did and never will.”
I nodded, though I didn’t understand, because he had.
And he would. Again, and again, and again. And he’d hurt her, too. Many times, and twenty times worse than he would ever hurt me.
I rose suddenly, as I blinked back tears for what had begun to flood my mind, and out the back door, not knowing where else I could hide for the few moments I needed. There she was, reaching out to me, desperate to be rescued. I wanted to change her fate, at least make it so she didn’t have to leave...the way she did.
One memory kept itself from coming back completely in perfect detail, though the images came in blurry bits and pieces. And that was of her death.
I was on the ground, I was in pain, but it was nothing, nothing like what I was seeing... the memory came in flashes of light reflecting off of the blade, a technologically advanced glove on a hand, the hand gripping the blade tightly. Blood was the most common, most vivid, picture in my head. The one thing that stained my mind, and it spilled all over the floor. Murmured last words...
I trembled at the thoughts, glancing at the bright sky for a second, before squeezing my eyes shut, shaking my head, trying to keep the tears from falling as things kept coming back, just the way I didn’t want them to. My arms were wrapped tightly around myself, trying to hold myself together.
I jumped slightly when Kainni entered the backyard.
“Hey... Troy, are you okay? What happened back there?” she asked, as gently as possible, looking a bit at a loss for what to do. I kept trying to regain my composure, but it wasn’t working very well. Never had such a simple scene brought me this close to seeing it all over again, with all those searing details.
Breathing had to be made my focus, in, and out, in, slowly, gradually, and out. But my breaths were short and shaky.
“Calm down, it’s okay...” she said. I couldn’t meet her gaze again, staring at the ground.
And then her hand gently found a place on my shoulder. She touched me like I’d been injured, and I had many times, yet almost immediately after this second, I started to breathe easier, began to regain my focus, began to come back to the present.
“I... I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I just...”
“It’s okay,” she replied, quietly. I glanced away from her, wiping my face with the back of my hand, my hair falling into my eyes as I turned back toward her. She seemed to be out of questions, as she stared at me. I hadn’t meant to break down in front of her, or in front of anyone. I felt nearly humiliated, but she wasn’t ridiculing me, she wasn’t telling me to snap out of it, she wasn’t saying I was weak... She was just standing there, staring. Her hand hadn’t moved.
I think I had begun to understand why she didn’t like me staring at her, watching her. She looked a little shaken now.
Her emerald eyes seemed to ask a thousand questions. I looked down. Gradually, she moved her hand away, but her gaze remained upon me, those eyes daring me to look back at her, as if they had the answers to all of those questions.
“Come on...” she murmured. “I... I think it’s okay to go back in.”
She turned around slowly, opening the door, taking a second to let me in before herself. I would have done so for her, but she did this with silent insistence. Shane and Terra now occupied the couch, the ice on the table, melting away, while its users had fallen into a much-needed, gratifying sleep. There was something about them, laying there like that, Terra being held protectively, safe, in the hands of someone who probably had hurt her, the two of them looking content and calm. There was just something about sleep that could either blissfully rob you of your worries and cares, or vehemently remind you of your horrid realities.
Kainni looked tired.
“Maybe you should try to go to sleep again, too,” I murmured quietly.
She tried holding back a yawn that inevitably came, as she shook her head.
“Yeah, I guess I should,” she replied.
I nodded. And she was staring at me again...
“But you look exhausted, Troy. You should be the one getting some sleep. You can have the guest room for now.”
“No, no, you...”
“No, seriously, it’s okay. Give me a second.”
Kainni watched me, waiting for me to move.
“Um, you can go in now.”
“I couldn’t, aren’t you tired? You should have the guest room...”
“Don’t worry about me. Just get some rest.”
She tactfully directed me inside of the room, closing the door seven-eighths of the way shut before her steps trailed off down the hall.
I stared out the window for a moment, drawing the blinds and closing the curtains before awkwardly climbing into the bed of the guest room. I closed my eyes, laying on my back, the blankets pulled up over my nose. I turned onto my right side, finding that I still couldn’t rest in this position, before turning to my left, onto my stomach... nothing worked. She should be here, not me.
I stood up and began to pace around the room... I was absolutely exhausted, but I knew I couldn’t sleep now. A rectangular object with odd plastic film then caught my eye, as it lay on the corner of the bed stand. I opened the blinds, and began to page through the book. Printed novels. I’d always wanted to see one like this, to really be able to feel and page through what I was reading. My mother had a couple of printed books, with real covers and everything. One was very important to her, one she swore upon, that she believed with all her heart was not fiction. I wonder why I hadn’t taken it with me...
Regardless, this book was much different. But it was extremely fascinating. It reminded me of the girl in the music video, of that song on the television earlier... it fit nearly perfectly.
But I didn’t want to read all about her keeping her secrets, or about her mother’s death, her father’s terrible behavior toward her. I felt my heart racing with the memory from earlier, yet I managed to suppress it for the moment as I mulled over what the author had written.
Had my own father’s behavior worsened after my mother’s death? Yes, I realized. Yes, it had. Observing my life with a cold, distant perspective helped. But it was still my life... it worsened, because after his actions, he found that maybe, the person he was supposed to value the most was nothing to him, and I was even less. Or maybe, with this realization, he noticed that I was failing at Abbort expectations and wanted to beat me into shape.
But this situation wasn’t like that... her father had been brought to a breaking point. My father seemed to have been the way he was for a long time now.
Calculated, coldness, and distance were all part of the way he was now. But he still “snapped” every now and then. I shuddered. But my mother’s diary told me the whole story... my father had been the way he was before I even knew he was like this. And his father before him.
And from what I assumed, his father before him, and his before him. Each had the same agenda in the end. Take all the power, from whatever source, which was robbed from them to begin with, and once they got it, they were consumed.
I didn’t want to be that person. I read through the book absently. Her day to day life seemed so normal, and yet she hid. She lashed out at her father, for once getting some of her power back, before having it knocked out of her. I wondered what would become of Olivia Lainie.
Would she grow up with bitterness at her father? Would she grow up, have children, and discover she carried more from her father than just genes she wanted to disregard? Would she even make it that far with him violent?
I read on. Her friends who stuck by her cared so much for her. It was lovely for her.
I’d only ever had one friend outside of my mother. And I now became distinctly aware, that I was not alone any longer. I edged toward the door of the guest room, opening the door cautiously, and to my surprise, Kainni met me right as the door opened.
“Oh... y-you’re awake. I... see you got a hold of the book.”
I smiled weakly.
“Yeah, guilty as charged. You can have it back if you want to read it again. It’s... pretty well-written,” I said, for lack of a better term. It was well-written, perhaps too well-written.
“No, you can keep reading it if you want, I don’t mind...”
“No, really, here.”
I handed her the book, our fingers brushing for a fraction of a second as we made the exchange. She looked into my eyes, questioning again, and I returned her gaze, wondering if I gave her any of the answers she was looking for. I wonder if she knew, too. If she remembered who we used to be.
Why would she hate me if she remembered? Or did she hate who she thought I’d become? Who I know I would have become?
“Thanks,” Kainni replied, quietly, her emerald eyes never leaving mine. Still it seemed she hadn’t gotten answers. Neither had I.
“You... you can have your room back if you want. I’m probably not going to be sleeping anymore today.”
She nodded, not really having anyway to argue against that, and I could tell, though she might be as exhausted as I was, she wouldn’t be able to sleep either. Taking the book, she walked into the room and got onto the bed, opening it almost immediately. It must have been pretty interesting to her.
I started walking out the door of the guest room, before remember Terra and Shane sleeping. I knew I probably wouldn’t wake them up or anything, but...
“You don’t... have to leave, you know...”
Turning around, I knew it was my turn to be surprised. Kainni didn’t want me to leave? She wasn’t telling me to leave her alone? This was quite a lot of progress from yesterday. Cautiously, I entered the room again, taking a place on the floor, closing the door three-fourths of the way this time, not feeling all too comfortable with shutting the door exactly.
Kainni looked back down at the book, devouring the pages quickly. I don’t know how someone could read a book like that as quickly as she was. I decided not to interrupt. I looked around the room. It was rather plain, with neutral colored walls and curtains, an accordion-like door signifying a closet, a dresser, and the bed stand with a simple lamp upon it. The blinds behind the curtains filtered in a good amount of light from the outside.
Looking around this plain room allowed made me feel boredom beyond relief. With such boredom usually came thoughts that often creep into my head while I am alone. Yet the sound of the rhythmic sound of a book’s pages turning reminded me that this was not the case.
“You certainly look entertained,” Kainni said, sarcastically, breaking the silence suddenly. She peered over her book at me on the floor.
“Oh yes. Historical interior design is fascinating,” I replied, a similar tone in my voice. She laughed half-heartedly, before returning to her book. I liked her laugh, even if she didn’t put all of herself in it one-hundred percent of the time. Her face slowly dimmed though, as she become more absorbed in the serious book. I watched her closely, registering the change in expression and emotion as she read on.
I wish I could remember more about her... when she was younger, what could have brought her to the way she was today. Thinking about this, I pulled out my mother’s mePad, and stared at the pages where there were locked, “erased” words in its crowded, flimsy, virtual pages. They were mostly coded for the safety of those who were covered behind. And then I rolled the digi-pen over one of the erased words... Natalia, my mother’s friend, her name had been erased before. I discovered her name, after falling half-asleep, only two days ago, pressing my hand onto the button that released the keypad, accidentally pressing a random code of buttons. The code just happened to be 6-2-8-2-5-4-2, which on an old phone would be where the letters of Natalia’s name would be listed.
I opened a page where there was another locked word. My mother’s best friend was Natalia Sawyer-Ceiltra, and she had a daughter whose name was also omitted and replaced by her respective pronouns.
I keyed in a code, taking a wild guess at the spelling of her name, 5-2-4-4-6-6-4. And then the name appeared.
Kainni Crystal Ceiltra was her full name. I felt a little bit strange finding so much out so quickly, so easily, having read of every detail of her life that my mother had known from her friend until we’d moved...
“You writing in your diary or something?” said Kainni, putting down her book and hopping off the bed, strolling over to me, crouching down to my level on the floor. I tried to hide it, but it was too late... the details were there all over the page, open.
“What the...” she breathed. She snatched it out of my hands, flipping madly through the pages. Her eyes were wide as she scanned over some of them. I reached for it, pulling it back and shutting it, grateful that digital books were at least sturdier than printed ones.
Kainni stared at me, wide-eyed. I sheepishly compacted the book and tucked it into the pocket of my pants, not yet daring to look up at her. Apparently she hadn’t remembered. Until now.
Kainni
My mom was in that journal. My mom's name was written about a hundred times in that journal. My name. My life before I was born was freaking written about in that freaking journal.
I was in that. And Troy was. I couldn't read it very much, although I wanted to read so much more, I wanted to know everything in it. Because although it told the story of someone else, my family was intricately involved in those early entries I'd scanned
And I was almost afraid of those diary entries. Why? Why were we in there? Who wrote them?
Why did they write them? How did they know my mother?
I stared at Troy, my eyes wide. How, why? Who?
He stared back again, finally. Still I had no answers to those questions.
Sighing, he finally broke the dense silence.
"It was my mother's," he murmured. "She... she knew your mom, I guess."
I swallowed, taking this in. He was the kid. He was the kid in my memories, the one I raced to the swing set. The one I gave the flower too, the one who looked depressed when it rained in school. He was the kid I showed my dad's busiTop too.
He was the kid I cried for when he left and never came back.
Troy Abbort had been my best friend. When I met him again just yesterday, I'd hated him. I'd just hated my best friend.
"My gosh. It's you?" I rasped, not intending to speak out loud. I couldn't believe it. It was him, this whole short time.
It had been 12 years since I'd seen him.
In my head, flashed the images of the Abborts, such a happy web-TV family, such a lovely group. My mother had always looked strange while watching them on the news.
In my head, I saw Alexander giving speeches ridden with propaganda that no one ever noticed, that everyone accepted blindly.
And in my head, I saw Alexander Abbort, pretending to be miserable. I saw Alexander Abbort and his officials announcing the death of the First Lady, Michelle Abbort.
I saw my mom in her bedroom, struggling to keep it together, taking a week off from work for unknown reasons, because some famous guy's wife died. For someone I assumed she hadn't known.
But she had. Being left in the dust for years without any contact, except for the times on the TV screen, and then truly, left in the dust, left behind.
She'd lost her best friend too, in a way I'd never even known.
And mine stood before me right now, alive. But not well.
Slowly, I began to walk toward him, closing the distance between us, and threw my arms around him.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!” I remembered us in the park again.
He’d accomplished the dream I’d forgotten, the one I had regretted all but a few hours ago, and that I now couldn’t bring myself to regret.
Slowly, just like so many years ago, he embraced me, too. It was unbelievable. And I wanted to hold on forever. I didn’t want to lose this, I didn’t want to lose him, like I had for 12 years.
Like Mom had lost Michelle. I didn’t want to waste any moment, any longer. I began to feel that sick feeling of remorse again, for my terrible treatment of him earlier.
“I’m... I’m really sorry, Troy... for earlier. Again. I... I just didn’t want to take... it was easier to just...”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I understand.”
He always understood. He always used to listen.
Who was he now? Would he understand now? Would he listen now? Who was he now? Who had he become?
And I, who had I become?
Could we still be like we had been before? Best friends... what did this 12 year separation mean to us?
And being stuck here. We were still stuck here.
“I am so sorry... you... you must have been... going somewhere with... the time machine, and I...”
“It’s not your fault, Kainni,” he said, trying out my name, yet it sounded as natural as the sun rising this morning.
The manual said no one could help time machine interference. But time machine interference interferes with a whole lot more than the location of your machine’s landing. I held onto him tighter. I had hated him less than an hour ago.
I’d splashed hot coffee onto his chest, I’d hated him less than an hour ago. I’d wanted him gone less than an hour ago.
He was my best friend. Now why was he here?
“Troy... why... what were you using your time machine for?” I whispered, staring up at him. His eyes were beautiful... he was an incredible sight up close. I’d never wanted to acknowledge the attractiveness of an Abbort before, many girls at school had shallowly fantasized themselves with this one here... and he was my best friend. And he was beautiful.
Troy swallowed, looking away from me for a second. Slowly, he pulled away from me again, sitting down on the bed. I came to his side, draping my arm around his shoulders as he stared into his lap.
“What is it? Why were you using your time machine?”
It must have been violating his father’s rules, the rules he enforced on every single being under his rule... more so, probably, his own son.
I felt like I was being stabbed at that second, considering that situation. What would it be like to live under a tyrant father’s rule? I nearly shuddered at the thought. It was just like the girl in the book, with her miserable life.
Though she only toyed for a moment the idea of escaping her life, for the pain it might bring others. And his mother had died... his father’s officials were hypnotized...
He continued staring, now at the floor, still not answering.
“Troy,” I whispered. “You... you wouldn’t...”
He shook his head, before staring at the ceiling, and slipping out from under my arm, standing up abruptly.
I stood up with him.
“Troy... I...”
“You think you know everything about Alexander Abbort? Everything you said... it was true. It was true, I wanted to say it, I wanted to scream it out at him every single second... but I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have mattered. It doesn’t matter now. I would become him.
An Abbort is destined to become what his father was, no matter how much he detests it. It’s like a curse. I don’t know how it happens, but no one can break the cycle... the women never make it.
I was going to save her, Kainni. I was going to make her safe, take her away from Alexander.
She’d be living happily, fully, having some real reason for all that happiness and joy she had. And I’d be safe. Far away. I would never have to worry about becoming him, becoming that monster. I am that way, Kainni. You were absolutely right. I still have to... I...”
I swallowed, shocked at all his words.
“No, no, Troy... you... you don’t...”
I didn’t know what to say. But my entire chest ached at the thought, although it still felt like I was just meeting him, of him being gone... having never existed, or at least, never been born. Losing a best friend again. Yet worse, never meeting him.
Surely it would make life a lot less complicated. Perhaps it would make things easier... but I couldn’t accept that kind of thought, not now, not after all this.
“Troy...”
I didn’t know what to say. How to say anything to him now. Uncharacteristically, as much as I tried not to, my eyes filled, and I turned away, pressing my sleeve to them, trying to keep the waterworks from running. I was not like this. I didn’t like this.
“Kainni... don’t... don’t cry, please...” he begged, his own voice cracking a little. “Please... I...”
I shook my head. And then his arms were around me again, like they had been, catching me yesterday, from falling. Perhaps preventing me from forgetting him forever. Maybe I was being a little dramatic. And I honestly didn’t like being dramatic, being emotional like this, yet, it seemed appropriate right now. I couldn’t help it after all this time and knowing that there had been a chance that... he would have made his goal. There was a chance that he still could. The thought alone sent chills down my spine.
I held him tighter, nearly forgetting what had happened earlier this morning. How couldn’t I have known? How could I forget something like this?
Someone like him?
I had to keep that out of my head. He was still an Abbort, wasn’t he? He was still...
How could I still think that? After all he’d just said to me, opening up so wide, when he’d been shut off for such a long time? How could I even consider that my best friend was lying to me? It may have been 12 years since we’d last seen each other, but regardless. All this time I kept seeing the bad side of the Abborts, and all I could do was hate and complain in secret bitterness, never doing a thing to change the world I was in until yesterday. And I had never considered that not all of them were the same.
Slowly, I looked up at him again, and he was still trying to look away, like he had been earlier, forcing his eyes shut as he tried to hold back his own tears. It wasn’t working. He started to pull away from me again, but I only took one hand to wipe a tear from his cheek. He opened his eyes, staring down at me. His eyes truly could speak, could tell you everything about him.
They were heartbreaking, they were beautiful, intense, innocent... I remembered, looking into them, how they could never hide a thing. I felt my own well up again, and as tears fell again, he wiped my tears as well. He knew he couldn’t hide anything from me any longer, and I knew we were too far in to get back out. I couldn’t hate him anymore, I couldn’t ever again. I couldn’t ever hurt him again.
Now instead of pulling away, he pulled me close again, and I stayed there in his arms, completely disregarding all the thoughts I would have had about this just yesterday. So quickly, things had changed for me.
I never thought of how alone he could have been.
He was given private schooling at home, the rationale most people assumed was just because of his father’s position, and what it would be like being “famous” in a public school. But maybe it had been something more. And if his father’s officials being entirely hypnotized. And his mother gone...
I couldn’t possibly imagine how horrible it would be. And now he was here, far away from them. We were both here, away from that corrupt time, having been dislodged into a different corrupt time.
Now neither of us was alone. Not anymore.
We stood there in silence. I was not comprehending that this was strange, that this was wrong, that he was an Abbort, that he was lying to me, that I needed to get away right now... this felt so natural, being here in his arms. Wiping tears away, tense remembrance, silent words spoken through the looks in our faces, as I slowly leaned my head on his chest, hearing his heart, ours beating in harmony with one another.
I would have time to wonder why about everything later. Right now, I just wanted to savor these moments we had.
But eventually, we had to pull away. I felt a strange cold, and hollowness, not being in his arms, not holding him. The logical side of my mind got a hold of me before I could reflect on this, however.
Dangit, Kainni, you are not like this! I thought. You don’t act like this, EVER, with guys, EVER, especially not in the first dang day you meet them...
But I knew him. I know him. It might have been a while, but...
No, no... remember that he is...
Who cares? He’s nothing like his father. He never was.
I wouldn’t let these old thoughts get the best of me. I would let the older ones take me. Ones from a childhood long ago, before I realized how screwed up the world I lived in was.
Troy sat down on the foot of the bed, pulling out the mePad, opening it quietly, scanning over the pages with a somber expression on his face. I hesitantly sat down next to him, watching as he read, my gaze wandering to the pages. When he noticed me reading and didn’t put the book away or hide it, I continued.
I’d never have thought that Michelle was like this. I’d thought she was just stupid, following Alexander, maybe just because he was the “man”, just because he seemed to be making the world “better”, that she covered for him when he was screwing everything up... but there was more, so much more to her. From a distance, she didn’t seem like a person my mother could ever stand.
But in this true, raw, journal, revealing herself, although she was very different than my mother, I could see how they’d been friends. She probably balanced her out. I could have probably known all of these things in depth, yet Troy was turning the pages too quickly. I understood if he didn’t want me to see too much too fast... I already had.
And so had he. My stomach started to twist at the thought of why this journal was so important... why Troy had wanted to save her...
How she could have died, and why.
I looked over at him, in wonder. He stared down at the floor, trying to cover himself again, his own eyes dim. It seemed like he might be trying to forget something, shove some memories down.
I thought of history class. I thought of old statistics of murder, rape, abuse, of vehicular accidents, of disease, cancers, of suicide rates, of all these screaming voices in the past that had been seemingly turned into history.
But how were we to know that they were gone or significantly minimized, if everything was being covered up by our “Leader”?
How were we to know if people went back in time and erased their births?
And how were we to know if we never reached out to people, gave them our friendship, let them in?
I put my arm around him again, watching as he broke down again. What had he seen? What had he felt? All I knew were the cold, hard, stats, cold, old, facts. Things that still existed where I was from, but worse, hidden, trying to disable us from doing anything.
But behind every fact and statistic, there was a face. There was a family, there was a person’s body lying in the ground, there were the scars covered and healed by a bandage that could only do so much.
And Troy sat right beside me, unable to keep all these things in any longer. I don’t know how he did for so long. I don’t know how I could have been so blind.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
I walked toward the boy, Troy, who was sitting the swings at the park, looking very upset. He looked like he was crying. I hurried toward him.
“What’s wrong?” I repeated. He sniffed. “I... I...”
“What?”
I looked at him, very worried. I climbed into the swing next to him.
“What happened?”
I swung side to side, moving closer and then farther from him.
Another sniff. I noticed now he had one of those little skin-colored bandage thingies on his arm. And another one on the other.
“I wanna run away. Can you go with me, Kainni? Do you want to go too?”
He looked at me desperately. I felt like crying now too. I didn’t think of how he got here, a ways away from his own house. I grabbed his wrist, not aware that it would probably hurt him more, and started toward the entrance into the apartment building.
“I’ll take you to mommy first, she can help us. And she can take you to a doctor too...”
“No, no... I... I don’t want...”
“Oh my gosh, there you are!”
Another person walked toward us, a woman with clear blue eyes and dark brown hair. I vaguely recognized her as my mother’s friend.
My mother had joined us as well.
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach you earlier, Michelle.”
I let go of the boy, but he didn’t seem to like that.
His mother kneeled down next to him.
“Hey, honey... we need to go home, okay? Please don’t run off like that again...”
The boy nodded, sniffling again.
“Come on. It’s going to be alright,” she said, patting his head gently. He didn’t look convinced, but he followed her to the hover car anyway.
The boy looked back at me, a desperate look in his blue, blue eyes. His mother gave a similar glance to my mother.
Warning signals.
I myself then began to bawl, crying harder than the boy had on the swing.
There was an unfamiliar warmth beside me, as I slowly began to awaken, my heart beating slowly with the stabbing pain I felt at this memory. And then I realized what was there, who was there. It was him... we must have fallen asleep at some point. Immediately, I rose, disentangling myself from his arms, surprised at myself. I started to remember, our conversation... the journal... the revelations.
Things seemed to be going in fast-forward to me some reason, one-hundred years in the past, with all these things pouring into my head, information overload. And now I’d fallen asleep...
I nervously eyed the digital clock on the bed stand. In bright red numbers, the clock unapologetically stated 12:24 PM.
We’d been here for at least five and a half hours. Most likely sleeping. Though I admit it felt better to have finally slept, that particular memory did not ease my rest. It was wonderful to see him still there, however. To know that all that had happened was not just part of that terrible dream.
And yet I couldn’t comprehend how pivotal all of these things had been, turning my entire world upside down to know these things. All because of this guy, one I had hated by association. Now I watched him, sleeping, his breathing even, so peaceful, childlike as he took his time away from this outside world. It didn’t seem like he was being haunted now, like our old nightmares may have come.
Cautiously, I laid back down, running my fingers through his smooth black locks, wondering what lie inside his mind now, what his expressive eyes would tell me if he were awake. All of a sudden I wanted to know everything about him, I wanted to understand. Other thoughts came to mind... like why I hadn’t remembered in the first place.
Why I had been capable of hating someone I had so obviously loved as a child. And now these questions took center stage, and all the dark places in my mind threatened to reveal their answers...
“Knock knock... you two lovers done with the ‘kissing’ and making up?”
The guy’s voice was accompanied by obnoxious knocks on our now-closed door, and I could feel my cheeks turning red. Troy started to awaken. “Hmm?” he said, slowly, regaining awareness of his surroundings.
“Hey...” I whispered to him.
“Guess not...” said Shane again, and I could easily imagine him turning on his heel, to the disapproving voice of Terra, “Just leave them alone”, I could hear her say.
I wondered if I wanted to be left alone again. It was already so strange, thinking of all of this. So terrible, what I knew now. And yet, so wonderful at the same time, this reunion.
“Hey,” he murmured, and smiled again, that weak, gentle smile, so rare. I loved it then, and I did now. I couldn’t help but smile back. If only there was an automatic time machine button, with fast-forward, and rewind, functions for everyday life. Especially now.
My logical brain, as usual, was screaming, shrieking at me to get out and away from here, and it was all going too fast, and we had only been friends, and we hadn’t seen each other in 12 years, and he was an Abbort, dang it, an Abbort! What on earth could I possibly be thinking? What could drive me to such sudden and illogical insanity?!
I ignored it again, the second time in my life since 12 years ago, the second time within about six hours, and stared into those beautiful eyes. He stared shyly back into mine. And then suddenly tore his gaze away from mine, looking away, his cheeks turning red.
Just like that time in the park, 12 long years ago.
“W-Well, I suppose we should go see what’s going on now... you know, out...-side of the g-guest room...” he said.
I nodded in agreement, standing up quickly again. I combed my fingers through my hair, before going to the door of the room, my hand on the doorknob, meeting another’s without warning.
I couldn’t hide the rose color appearing on my cheeks once again. I let go, and he opened the door, waiting for me to pass through, and we didn’t meet each other’s eyes again. I knew he was blushing again too.
Gosh dang, what was happening to me? This was worse than that terrible, ancient Shakespearean play, Romeo and Juliet, it felt even faster than that.
We made our way to the kitchen, where Terra was standing by the oven, its light glowing as something seemingly “convenient” (probably had been frozen; the toppings including little round, red circles, meat, I assumed, and cheese, crust... things I would never get to eat at “home”, what with my mother’s aversion to such foods) and capable of being baked within 20 long minutes sat within it. She seemed to be much better than she had been earlier, as did Shane, though his face didn’t look seem to have the same effect, although it seemed some swelling may have gone down with the ice.
It made me feel uneasy, knowing why...
“Soo... I’m assuming you guys are doing better?” Terra inquired, as she looked over at the oven’s timer. Man, things took a while back then. I was glad she wasn’t looking at me, however. What they would have assumed was... ugh, I shoved the thought away.
“Yeah, we are,” I said, trying to keep up the act from earlier, that with the new information crowding my head made me nearly forget. I elbowed Troy subtly, for his re-affirming response.
“Oh, yes. Yeah, we’re doing much better than earlier. Very much so...”
Another elbow to the ribs to cut him off. He was absolutely horrible at acting and at lying. True, we were doing much better than earlier. But the couple was now looking at us, probing stares. Ha, they would know too much too easy if anything had happened.
How did anyone keep a relationships like that anyway? Certainly something to ponder some other time...
“Well, that’s good,” said Terra, glancing at the timer again. Shane was now watching her, and she didn’t seem to be paying much attention to him. They didn’t seem to be the most awake and alert of the moment either, yet, I was sure they’d been up quite a bit longer than Troy and I had been.
“When’s your mom gonna be home again, Ter?” Shane asked, moving to stand next to Terra by the counter.
“Six o’clock. Probably going to be more around six-thirty, though, with her working so far into town and all. Don’t worry about it,” said Terra, waving the time away with her hand, stating her and Shane’s mantra. Don’t worry about it.
That torn picture on her mirror, what did he think of it? Perhaps he’d ripped it apart a couple of times as well. But it was in her room. However, they could share it a whole lot more than I’d like to know.
I realized now, that I did not like to look at Terra, or to look at those photographs of her. Because although her hazel eyes, light brown hair, and slightly tanned skin defied the physical characteristics of her, and her actions were not nearly the same, she reminded me of my mother.
And of course, that dreaded last name. She looked at me for a second, thoughtfully, before speaking again.
“Hey, anything you two wanted to do today? I mean, my place isn’t all that exciting, and... I guess you’re trying to get away from some people, but...”
“Oh, we’re fine,” I said, a little too quickly. I really did want to get out of here. But there was that act, that stupid act, the only one that would make sense in this world.
It wasn’t as though I could just outright say, “We’re actually from the future, and our time machines crashed, so now we’re stuck here, and sure, I’d love to get out of this place right now!”
No, that just would not do. So this would have to do for now. Terra focused back onto the oven again, Shane watching her for a moment, with some unidentifiable emotion on his face, before shuffling with a few faltering steps back to the couch, to watch the continuously energy-wasting television again.
Terra now had her gaze on him, sighing, before getting back to the laggy piece of technology her attention now focused upon. Some sort of distraction from some thoughts she might want to keep from her mind. Yet when her glance left to stare at us, Troy’s arm was suddenly around my shoulder. What was he doing?
Well... I guess if we were supposed to be a couple who had just made up from something... did they all act like this when they made up? And what problems were we going to pretend to have? I didn’t like this act, but I guess we should figure out how to be thorough...
A thought crossed my mind, one I wanted to store away quickly, for fear that the stupid, childish blush that had appeared on our faces only moments ago would return to me in public. And yet I still leaned closer to Troy.
Perhaps it shouldn’t be an act. My cheeks felt hot at the thought returning. Dang it, I just can’t push it away... I couldn’t push him away again.
It sure would have been awkward in this place, I realized, if there hadn’t been the background noise of the “T.V.” The other two seemed to be absorbed in their own reflections, that oven seemingly so fascinating, the images of the television screen incredibly interesting. Or so they wanted to convey.
“Well, I guess we could walk around the neighborhood again for a while, if that’s okay...”
“Um, okay,” said Terra, her concentration broken for a second. “Sure. Uh... I can call you guys in when lunch is ready, if you want.”
I nodded. “Sure. Well, see you two later.”
Shane shot us a “thumbs up” from the couch, waving us off absently, as Troy and I turned toward the back door. He opened it again, beating me to the handle again. I passed through, pettily resenting the action for a moment, because I had wanted to open the door this time, but I disregarded it. He was just being... nice, I guess. I wouldn’t expect any less from him.
In spite of this, I picked up the pace a bit to the gate of the flimsy fence out of Terra’s backyard, unlocking and opening it with unnecessary enthusiasm. I knew my face had to look a little smug. Troy just smiled, laughing a little, much more lighthearted than I expected of him, as he ran through the gate.
"Maybe you haven't changed all that much since you were little," he commented. I glared at him slightly, maybe making him regret what he had said. But I wondered if he was right. Had I changed, or had I not? Did I want to?
"And what do you mean by that?" I said, my hands now on my hips. My gosh, I hadn't changed a lot since I was little... or, maybe it was just him restoring my youthful, competitive side back to where it had once been. I associated it with being immature, with being childish, simply because I'd only been that way when I was young.
"I don't know. You still think you're faster than me," he replied, smiling again. I'd never seen Troy Abbort this cheerful before. It made me suspicious. But I couldn't let him get away with that comment.
"Troy, I don't think, I know," I replied, with mock superiority, smirking.
"Is that a challenge?"
"Maybe it is."
And with that, I took off running, to no particular point of interest, speeding up as I passed the tree from earlier that morning, and down past some signs, across streets, still used to the activity for my mother's own physical activity requirements for our family, which was enough to make up for my lack of athletic-academic involvement. I ran, ignoring this reminder of her for once, keeping my spirits high with this competition, unwilling to lose, just like I hadn't back when we had been much younger.
Soon, unfortunately for myself, I heard Troy's steps catching up with mine, and I sped even faster. I didn't know how far from Terra's we were now, just that I was determined not to lose to Troy Abbort. He didn't win races with me, never had, determined not to let him now. We began nearing a park, not unlike the one that had once been behind our old apartment building, and I raced onto the grass, around the playground equipment and through the clearing.
What I had not taken into account, however, was obstacles that I could not see. My foot unexpectedly got caught in a stray root, and I came crashing to the ground, gratefully not on pavement. I struggled to get up again, my pride not wanting me to let go of this, when another joined me on the ground in a similar manner, less than an inch from landing on top of me.
We both had the wind knocked out of us, both struggling to keep our breath, but ignoring the pain, somehow, chimes of laughter echoed from within us, this lightness I was sure neither of us had felt in years.
Troy
Crashing onto the ground anywhere, at any time, was never very pleasant, yet at this moment now, it seemed to be the happiest thing in the world. Already out of breath, we laughed on the ground, unable to stop, just laying there, simply unceasing, and despite our lack of breath, a lightness had consumed us.
If I had ever felt like this before, I didn't remember it. And the only time I could ever imagine feeling this way, would be in a very similar situation.
Eventually, we had to stop to breathe, but by this point, we were sitting up again, and I looked over at her. I had never felt this way before. Such joy just didn't seem to be the way that I was ever made to feel. Yet all my cares, all my terrors and fears and pain seemed to exit me for these full, lovely moments.
And to have her staring back at me, those green eyes so bright like they once had been, just as I remembered them. She was still smiling. I loved that smile, so much. And it had just been so long... I had to cherish these moments now, because something tugged at my heart, telling me that there may not be much time for us, that we could be separated again, so quickly, so easily.
I reached for her hand, intending to help her stand up with me, but rather, we remained planted on the ground. She took my other hand, and stared me in the eyes, shifting to sit right across from me, her eyes bright and beautiful, yet intense on mine now.
We began to come closer, compelled to move closer, closer, until there would be no space in between our faces. My heart raced, and I knew it was early, something inside screamed it was too early, but logic and common sense had deserted me the moment she realized who we were.
Our eyes closed slowly, and our lips met, our fingers interlocked, before we let go, and we pulled away for all but a second to stand, and my arms came around her waist, hers around my neck. Once again, she had stolen my breath.
Those moments were wonderful, even as we pulled away, and I was left with the ghost of that feeling of her lips against mine, but I could not, would not, ever, forget this. She stared up at me, a mixture of surprise and similar, dazed wonder on her face, and I hoped she felt as good as I did then.
Speech would ruin these moments, so I swallowed my words, taking her hand, silently agreeing to go back to Terra's home, yet I knew we were not the same fake "couple" we had been before.
We took our sweet time, time I suddenly felt like I had, our silence comfortable with the memories fresh in our mind. I'd never known we'd become this way so soon.
Part of me wondered, if I'd never moved, if we'd ever have ended up like this. With the sparse memories I did see, I was sure we most likely would have. A slight bit of guilt threatened to ruin this time for me, thinking of how quickly this was going, too quickly to be good or realistic, but I tried not to let myself care. Should I care? Was it too fast?
With the guilt, the thoughts of my lack of immunity from the disorder that was being an Abbort crept into my head, images of the destructive person that could come from me wishing to overthrow what had seemed to be so wonderful.
No, I told myself. I would never become that way. Not here. Maybe I could be immune here. Maybe I could resist it here.
The hope that had seemed low and lost the other day had somehow sprung up in me again. Maybe I COULD resist it here. And everything would be pure bliss, with my best friend... someone even more than that now.
I almost regretted it as we arrived at the gate into Terra's backyard, stepping back to allow Kainni to decide whether she wanted to open it or I, and surprisingly, she stepped back as well, and I opened it for her, while she hurried away from me again to go open the back door, smiling playfully again. I laughed slightly, and followed her lead back inside.
Interference (Chapter 4)
Sunday, May 7, 2088
Dear Journal,
I’m beginning to find it funny that I and many others in the past have started their diary entries with “Dear Diary” or “Dear Journal” or name their diaries and journals when the inanimate objects are not really the ones who listen to them.
So, I will now just write this journal like it’s a conversation, a prayer, to You. I know You hear me and listen to me, God, all the time. It doesn’t matter what I say to the journal, I guess, because You’re always there. You know a word before it’s on my tongue. Or the tip of my digital pen.
I’ll still keep this journal for my own recollection, however. I want to remember everything, everything You’ve allowed in my life, everything You’ve set out for me.
I went to the date on Saturday. We went out for coffee, and walked around in a park, a really nice one, one that I knew my best friend would have loved. She’s still single at the moment, hasn’t had a boyfriend since the end of senior year in high school, but she takes the single life very well. And most certainly doesn’t depend on a guy for her self-esteem. She is the incarnate of those talks in middle school about romantic-relationship dependency.
Anyway, everything went ridiculously well. I don’t know why I was feeling so bad about it on Monday last week.
Or maybe I do.
The sermon in church today was about trying to listen to God. Being still and listening to him, trying to discern what He (You) is/are saying to us.
I do feel a little uneasy after last night. Are You telling me something?
I don’t really understand, though. Alexander is great. He’s very respectful and polite, and very intelligent. He’s looking into a career in science, engineering, inventing things. He isn’t awkward with the amount of intelligence he had, no stereotypes for him. He’s got a lot of potential, though. I can see him doing something big someday...
And he’s so sweet, too. Maybe he’s just a good talker, but he definitely has me.
I could easily take to liking him. I guess I should just be careful.
He asked me out again for next Friday.
My friend is messaging me now...
“Hey, M. How are you? How’d your date with Alexander go?” she said, absolutely unsubtle about her desire for details and information.
“I’m doing very well. And it was wonderful...”
She smiled, smirk-ish, telling me to spill all the details with her green eyes. So I did.
I didn’t like coffee much, so I had a hot chocolate at the cafe, while Alexander had a semi-expensive cup, black. People around us were busy on their laptops, surround sound headphones on their ears, connected to their meTops, chatting away or typing and sending essays for their classes.
At first, it was awkward, I not knowing what to say, and him seeming to think over his words very carefully. But after a while, we warmed up to each other, and conversation came very easy.
He’s just a year older than me, and lives out on his own. He has a lot of drive in his plans for the future, for his career. He didn’t have a job at the moment, yet he still seemed to have enough money for necessities, maybe more. He’s been working on it for years. Outside of that, he said he mostly read and wrote some things. Recording his own studies and such. I know there had to be a creative side to him, however. He had a mePad that fell out of his pocket, with some sort of story title labeling it.
He wouldn’t let me see it, but I didn’t mind.
The only topic that he really seemed to avoid, however, was his family.
“So, you’re going to school pretty far from your hometown. How are your parents taking that? I mean, mine are definitely freaking out, they message me every day...”
He seemed to tense up, a hint of anger coming to his beautiful blue eyes.
“Let’s not talk about my parents, alright? So, what do you do outside of your class work?”
I decided with the sharp way he diverted the subject, I wouldn’t bring it up again. So I talked to him about everything.
“Then we went to a park,” I said to Natalia.
“Oh, cool! Which one? I’ve been needing one for this project...”
“I don’t remember the name, but it was really nice, you’d like it. It was about a few blocks from the school...”
I remembered us, though, the sky changing color above us, stars peeking out from the city lights smearing them. I remember that we were having a wonderful conversation. And so kind and traditional, he brought me back to my dorm room, which I usually shared with Natalia, who out at her parents for the weekend, and kissed me on the hand. I knew she’d find this ridiculously sappy, but I liked it.
I could not wait until next Friday. I write this as Natalia rants on and on... I still need to have my reservations. I still have to be careful. But I just can’t wait...
Kainni
I was wearing a blank tank top and cargo pants, dark black eye makeup and had spiked bracelets on, with a studded belt, my choker also shimmering a little in the sun. I had a sword. And I was fighting someone. We were sweating on the summer day, I was nearly losing. But I couldn’t let myself lose... the person I fought was my enemy, and I needed to win, no matter what it took.
My enemy had on a black sweatshirt, with the hood down over him. The sleeves were torn off from the sweatshirt, scratches and bruises on his yet-sculpted arms. I couldn’t even identify him from underneath the hood and the hair in his eyes. Even with our swift moves, circling each other...
He was moving too quick. This battle was important somehow. It was absolutely vital. Our surroundings were spinning, but it blended into the background. My opponent was all I could focus on...
He slashed at me, and nearly cut my arm. I started toward him faster. Our blades slammed into each other, and we mirrored this multiple times, before I pressed the blade very close to him. He pulled his away quickly, before charging at me. I put all my strength into the next move, strategically hitting his blade so as to knock it from his hand. He stood there still for a moment, and I started to move in, but he pulled out a dagger very rapidly, grabbing my sword on its blade. Blood poured from his hand, but my grip started to loosen as he attempted to rip it from my own fist.
I stood my ground, however, pulling it away from him, and he raised the knife...
We were both prepared to move, when our surroundings stopped spinning, and something crashed into my back, forcing me forward, driving the blade into the heart of the boy... and he fell backward, like in slow motion, as the hood began to come down. The dagger was released from his hand, and the force behind me, a hand, came to my back again, shoving me forward, the blade on a collision course for my heart...
I jolted awake, breathing heavily. My hand was across my heart, protecting me as I gasped for breath...
I didn’t get the chance to see who the person I murdered was. Or to turn around and see who shoved me toward what would have caused my death. I tried to breathe deeply. Where on earth did that come from?
There had been a strange, morbid power during that nightmare, though. Like I could win this battle, with whoever it was I was trying to beat.
Except for the moment my sword had finally driven itself to his chest. There had been a sick feeling consuming me, and I couldn’t even feel the pain as the force had shoved me to do it. Just that horrid feeling as blood came from him, as he started to fall, the hood nearly coming down. And yet I still couldn’t see that face.
I heard some murmuring from the hallway, snapping me out of the vivid memory of the dream.
There were pauses between words, and they were too close to be in the other room anymore.
“Shane... you’ve gotta go now,” Terra whispered to him. A pause, like their lips were meeting again. Ugh.
I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand of the guest room. It said it was 5:30.
“Just a little longer,” he said, sighing slightly.
“Mom’s gonna be up soon...”
Another sigh.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Shane replied.
Another pause.
I could tell they broke from each other again.
“See you Monday,” Terra whispered.
Shane didn’t reply as he started to walk away.
“Love you,” she said a little louder.
He paused as he walked, and still didn’t reply.
“Me too,” he said, distantly. It was hard to tell if he was telling the truth.
The door to the guest room was cracked a little, and Terra removed the oversized t-shirt she was wearing, revealing a few faded extra marks on one of her arms, and heading back into her room, before emerging in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, rather quickly. She then proceeded to go into the kitchen.
Wasn’t it Saturday? Was it not at least four hours too early for “teenagers” like us to be waking up?
The aroma of coffee soon wafted through my door. I groaned slightly, turning my head into the pillow I’d slept on. I didn’t want to be up at this hour, I didn’t want the memories of yesterday creeping into my brain, or the thought of bloody swords and shoving hands taking over my imagination.
I pulled the blanket over my head, but I knew without a doubt, I had no more chances of sleeping any longer.
Troy
A house door opened and closed, and I awoke. I cracked my eyes open a little, blinking slightly, as I adjusted to my surroundings. I was in Terra’s house, I remembered... and the events of yesterday poured back into my head. It had to be much too early for this. I closed my eyes again, leaning my head back down.
I heard footsteps coming back to an area in the vicinity of the room. It must have been Terra, the steps light, yet slightly heavy, from lack of sleep. A switch was flipped, and I assumed a light came on, my eyes able to detect the minor change.
She started pulling out a glass dish or cup or something, setting it on the kitchen counter, as a machine started to hum quietly. A strong, familiar, yet unfamiliar, scent wafted through the kitchen and living room. I felt a twinge my stomach.
Her mother’s door opened slowly.
“Morning, Terra,” came a weary voice, yawning. “Oh you made the coffee, thank you.”
“No problem, Mom,” said Terra, quietly. She must have done this a lot as well. A tiny door in the kitchen opened, maybe one of those above-storage... what did you call them? Cupboards? doors opened, and the sound of small objects rattling out of a small plastic container was cut off by, perhaps, landing in a hand.
The glass cup was picked up again, hot liquid pouring into it, sizzling a little. It was passed, I believe, perhaps to another hand.
“Thanks, sweetie,” Terra’s mother said again. Sip, swallow. The plastic container with the little capsules was shut back into the cupboard.
“I’ll be home around six tonight.”
Terra didn’t respond out loud immediately, pouring another cup of the hot liquid.
“Alright.”
Her mother picked up something by the couch, probably a purse, and traveled out the door, closing it quietly. Then she started her car.
I probably wasn’t going to be able to sleep much longer, so I decided to “wake up”. I yawned, sitting up gradually.
Terra took a sip of the hot, dark brown liquid, and then spit it out into the sink. She coughed a little before noticing that I was awake.
“O-Oh, morning, Troy. Sorry if I woke you. Coffee’s just a little too hot, you know?”
I nodded, like I understood.
I never really liked it. It reminded me of my parents now. One who’d grown to like it, one who’d grown to detest the innocent, mostly morning beverage. And now it reminded me of them as well.
“Want any?” Terra asked me, as she raided her freezer for a tray of ice cubes, preceding a jug of milk from her refrigerator.
Old technology. It was fascinating.
“No thanks,” I replied.
“Alright.”
I stood up gradually, stretching, and made my way into the kitchen as Terra pulled out a tall container of sugar and pouring a generous amount of it into her cup, dousing it with the milk until the coffee looked just a shade tanner than my skin tone. She then proceeded to take a sip of the pale liquid, and appeared to be much more satisfied with its taste and temperature than earlier.
“Uh, sorry for, umm... just leaving you guys out there like that last night.”
“Oh... it was fine. No problem.”
What was there exactly to apologize for? We truly hadn’t had any problems... it was more her and her poor excuse for a boyfriend that I was worried about.
She nodded, looking as though she felt a bit awkward.
“Well, I see you got the couch,” Terra commented, as she absentmindedly stirred her coffee with a small spoon.
“Yeah, it was alright.”
There was a pause in our conversation, Terra stopping her stirring for a moment, looking thoughtful.
“So... what did Shane mean last night, about you and Kai, or whatever her name is, erm... knowing each other?” she asked, tentatively.
I thought about the question, and internally winced a little as I pondered it. Should I go along with Kainni’s story, which cast me as the disliked and dislikable ex-boyfriend, or... something else? It made sense for me to be someone she hated. And she had all the reason in the world. I guess this would be the best transposition I could make for now, for it all to make sense...
“Yeah... w-we... we were having some problems, and...”
I had to think like a jerkish ex-boyfriend...
“No, seriously. What’s going on?”
Yet another reassurance of the lack of the Abbort lying (and acting, I suppose) gene.
“W-Well...”
A loud yawn very conveniently interrupted me as Kainni stepped out of the guest room.
“He was a jerk. That’s just it. Gosh, you guys are loud...”
“Sorry,” Terra grumbled, sighing, a hint of frustration in her voice. Kainni looked over at her, trying to figure her out, I presumed.
“So...” Terra started. “How do you and Troy know each other, Kai?”
“Yeah, Kai?” I asked, somewhat nervously. She glared at me, before she had that sinister glint in her eye again.
“Well... basically, he just generally ruins my life on a daily basis.”
Terra stared at Kainni suspicious, and I questioningly.
“I can tell you all about it.”
She was trying to be serious, but it all came out acidic, just like her previous speech. I was somewhat interested in her translation of what had happened in the future to how it could be if I was like the person she was trying to portray me to be. Whatever it was, I could take it, and it would be true.
I was looking down at the floor, not playing my part very well.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t need the details. Just work it out.”
She started heading toward her room again.
“Hey, Kainni, I’ve got some clothes, you can change into if you want...”
“Uh, sure,” she said, taken off guard, dragging out the removal of her cold stare from me.
I looked away from her, turning my back, and staring at the counter.
What did I do, but... I deserved this, I was sure. But somehow, it still hurt. I had to take it.
I didn’t let her fall earlier. When I watched her go with Shane, I felt concern for her. My father may have destroyed her family, and our time machines had interfered, but...
What had I done wrong?
Kainni
I still couldn’t bring myself to let this go. He was an Abbort. Maybe I would’ve fallen and hit my head on the ground, but how bad could that have been, yesterday? Maybe I would remember any of this and I could learn how to be a resident of 2009.
But I couldn’t. And he was the reason why. I couldn’t let it go.
Terra led me into her room, opening a drawer and pulling out some clothes, which revealed various concealed things... some things unrepeatable, probably used in the occasion in which her “boyfriend” apparently violated in entering her room, a strange clearish object, a lighter, perhaps? and a pack of... ugh, I now recognized them from the Substance Abuse History Unit of one of my social studies classes, cigarettes.
She didn’t look like she smoked or anything like that. She didn’t seem to be a person who would... be the way she is, yet... she was.
I glanced around her room. She had posters of bands and singers she might not even listen to anymore, a picture of her when she was must have been at least a few years younger, in black and white, a somber Asian girl with a gentle smile and a bright girl with dark brown hair on either side of her. A frame was turned down. Her mirror had sticky notes on it, reminding her of school assignments, her floor a little messy...
Around her room were many photographs, with labels as gifts from one particular friend, who signed her pictures simply, yet artistically, in very small script Kim.
Yet the most striking piece in her room was one that was not so in tact, as much so that it looked like it had been worn and literally, torn and put together again about at least 10 times.
It was of her, and Shane, probably taken as a candid photograph, his arm draped lazily and comfortably around her shoulders, both of them looking like they were having a good time, Terra mid-laugh, and him with a similar, light-hearted expression.
I could easily imagine what had brought her to rip this picture so many times, yet it almost hurt to look at it myself.
Another thing that caught my eye was a book laying open on the vanity of the mirror. The page was early in the book, about a girl and her friends in orchestra, her keeping a secret, and as much as I was drawn into reading this old-fashioned, printed novel, what I noticed, was the even more old-fashioned library card.
Sawyer, Terra N.
It had to be a mere coincidence, that her last name matched my mother’s maiden name...
“Good pictures, aren’t they?” said Terra, quietly startling me as she broke the silence. She extended her hand with a pile of folded clothes.
I accepted them cautiously.
Terra sighed.
“Kimura is... was... is a good photographer, don’t you think...” she said, wistfully, trailing off.
“Yeah, she... is.”
She swallowed as she dug some forbidden object out of her drawer. “You don’t mind, do you?”
It was the lighter and the box of cigarettes.
I shook my head, though I did mind.
“I’ll be outside.”
I nodded, taking the clothes to the guest room. I changed, wondering what had brought on the drop in Terra’s mood. Something must have happened to her friend... I bit my lip. I didn’t like to think of things like that.
Where I came from, everything now was rare. People lived long, mostly good lives, unless they got super-bacterial infections.
Or at least that’s what it looked like on the outside. Who knows what went on behind the closed doors?
Like Alexander Abbort and his propaganda...
I slipped on a pair of denim pants, jeans? and a cotton t-shirt. I debated on what I would do next. Glancing out the window of the guest room, I confirmed that Terra was outside, and snuck back into her room.
I looked at it, at the old school papers, and other items and such...
“Do you really think you should be doing that? Violating someone’s privacy that way?” came a quiet voice.
Abbort.
I glared at him. “Like you don’t. That’s the way you try to rule the world, isn’t it?”
“I... I don’t, I’m not...”
“Don’t try to defend yourself, you know you’re...”
“I’m not, I try, I... maybe I am, but...”
“You are.”
He turned away from me, shaking his head, trudging back down through the hallway.
I stared back down at Terra’s possessions, at the papers and the photographs. The one with her and Shane still stood out to me. She had one of just Shane, probably taken professionally with his thoughtful looking pose, leaning against a wall, maybe for school.
My eyes wandered down to the book. The girl in the book, I wondered... what had she to hide?
I picked it up, putting my right index finger in between the pages that Terra had left off on, to glance at the cover. Let It Out was the title. Hm. I paged through it, scanning over the first few pages and chapters, but one passage sucked me in...
A confrontation between her and her father, about a permission slip, which most parents would love to have where I was, yet it had turned extremely violent.
I could feel my heart beating faster just reading that passage. How could anyone live with such unloving, horrifying parents?
This was not a thing of the past where I was, yet it was studied like it was. Like our lives were so far above the meager existences of those who endured history.
Like everything wrong had disappeared, like the feigned peace speeches spelled out “utopia” for our far from perfect world.
I opened the book back up to where Terra’s library card marked her page. Terra N. Sawyer. My mom’s former last name had always seemed strange to me, a woman with the name Natalia having such a plain name like Sawyer for her last. Ceiltra fit her better, it wasn’t so plain. Though I knew my mom had entertained the idea of combining my father’s and her last name. It fit her to think like that, but I liked the name Ceiltra. I couldn’t see us as being Sawyer-Ceiltra’s.
Those details were insignificant right now. I wondered why Terra would like to read a book like this...
And then something else caught my eye. A handwritten poem attached to a letter.
Why
I was right there next to you
I watched you slip away
I watched you fade as I felt part of me
Slip with you
I never thought
That this could end so fast
That life could be lost so fast
That we could be over so quickly
I don’t know how to go on
Without you by my side
I don’t know what I’ll do
Without you now
After you,
I’m waiting
I’m lost, confused
Wondering why you had to go
Wondering why I’m left alone
After all we’ve been through together,
Why you leave me here
Why you had to go home so soon
And I ask God, why?
And I don’t want to believe
That you’re not here
I don’t want to feel your absence
Everywhere I go
Places that used to be full of joy and life
Empty and void and dark
Yet I know you’re somewhere
So much better than here
I know you’re not in pain
That you don’t even have the time or reason to miss me
And this dark place,
To face another day,
I’ll just have to live
By knowing one day we’ll meet again.
Dear Terra,
This was Kim’s poem about my brother that she wrote a couple years ago. She gave it to me, but I felt that maybe she would have wanted you to keep it. II couldn’t believe it when the news got here to our mission in Africa. My parents were crying with me by the end of the email. I’m so, so, sorry. I wish I was there right now, I’m sorry I can’t be there for you like I used to be. But we were called.
I thought about Lee, and the accident a few years ago, Mom and Dad thought about him too, probably, a lot after finding out. I have no doubt where they are, though, Terra. They’re in Heaven, content and without pain, endless joy with God and they’re together, Terra. They’re happy.
God works in mysterious ways. Earlier today, because we still had to go in and help with the church building and the teaching in the elementary school, 10 kids and adults came and accepted Christ as their savior. It was incredible.
And I dreamt about them last night, Terra. He showed me they were doing wonderfully. It’s a beautiful place.
I hope you’re doing well, Terra. We’ll be back soon, don’t worry. And don’t forget, you’re never alone. The Lord is always there for you. I hope you realize that. Don’t forget.
Love you like a sister,
Alana
Attached, was a picture of the dark-haired girl with people I assumed were her family, and a group of African children gathered with them, looking like they were a part of Alana’s family as well.
I swallowed, as I lifted up one of the overturned picture frames. The frame was flimsy, and I pulled on the back of it, sliding off easily.
On the back of the photograph was the label
“15th birthday. Left to right: Lee, Kim, Alana, Me, Shane, 2007. Taken with Kim’s fancy camera with the stand.”
The somber girl in the picture was Kimura, a photographer, gone far too young. Alana’s brother had also died too young. Why had such things happened back then? Now?
Did they still happen? Why?
I stared at the photographs, as I lethargically put Terra’s room back to the way I’d found it, walking out slowly.
Troy was standing by the counter, staring at the floor, looking thoughtful and unhappy. He looked almost exactly like his father, but his hair was longer and his eyes, they had not yet become cold and unfeeling and deceiving.
But warm, filled with emotion, transparent, a true gateway to his soul.
He glanced up as he saw me entering the room.
“Look... I... I’m sorry_”
“Don’t be,” he murmured. “I know... I’m... I’m sorry, too.”
Troy Abbort finally looked me straight in the eye. Such a stare could easily break the hardest hearts.
I could stare him back for a moment, before my gaze landed on the floor. I heard the sliding back door open, Terra stepping in.
Troy walked to her. I could smell the scent of her carcinogen-filled stress relief easily upon her clothes now.
“Hey... Sorry... about that,” she said, yawning slightly. “I think... if it’s okay, I’m gonna go back to bed. Is that okay?”
I nodded. She seemed drained. I felt a tiny sliver of understanding from the glimpse into her life I’d gotten from her bedroom and the sounds of her hallway at 5 in the morning.
“Thanks.”
Once again, she retreated to her bedroom. I began feeling guilty for violating her privacy now, yet I was beginning to understand some things about her. Maybe even beginning to understand some things in this world. Peculiar that I should land 100 years in the past... it used to be one of my dreams when I was younger. I don’t understand what my fascination had been with that, and now that I was here, I couldn’t possibly imagine why I’d wanted to come here.
I yawned, feeling tired, yet knowing I was unable to fall asleep.
Troy poured a cup of coffee into a clean mug, cautiously, and brought out the milk and sugar that Terra had taken out a little bit ago. He made a cup similar to hers, drinking it hesitantly.
Coffee. That was a certainly a good idea. Maybe it could wake me up a little more... not that I really needed it after my unnecessary venture to Terra’s bedroom. Terra N. Sawyer. I couldn’t get that last name out of my mind. It wasn’t as though it was horribly uncommon. I poured a cup of the steaming-hot coffee for myself, hoping it was okay with Terra. On the rare occasion I allowed myself to use such a substance as caffeine to assist me during the day, I tried not to make it less concentrated. It was strangely contradicting to what I’d even expect from myself, but coffee was better without such things interrupting its consistency and flavor.
I took a sip, immediately noticing that it wasn’t nearly as good as it was where I had come from, but it would have to do.
Troy was watching me again.
“Could you please stop?” I said, doing my best not to sound irritable. My attempt wasn’t very successful.
“I’m... I’m sorry. Again. But... how do you drink your coffee black like that? Isn’t it kind of bitter?”
I shrugged.
“It tastes fine to me.”
He shuddered a little.
“I don’t like coffee.”
I shrugged again, as I downed another fourth of the cup. My father drank his coffee black like I did. It was more of an addiction for him and Mom, yet now she tried to avoid it unless it was entirely organic, and maybe for other reasons. I didn’t ask why. Part of me wished I did now, though it was so trivial, so insignificant. But now I knew I could very well never get the chance. I stared into the cup, feeling an ache creep into my gut, into my heart again. I didn’t want to think about this. I wanted to be angry again.
It was his fault. I shouldn’t be apologizing for anything, this was an Abbort’s fault, after all.
I glared at him sharply again. I stared down at the cup, and then at him. My wrist jerked a little, the liquid flying from the cup to his chest, and I slammed the coffee mug angrily into the sink. So what if it broke. It was his fault, all his fault... I hurried out the sliding back door, slamming it shut, a gust of air blasting into the kitchen, as I shoved my way outside, out of her backyard, into her neighbor’s yard and onto the sidewalk, wanting to be anywhere but here.
Troy
I didn’t realize how hot that stuff was, even when I was drinking it. Then again, there had been the milk in mine. Kainni’s drink was splattered all over one of the shirts Terra had so kindly purchased for me the night before, and it caused a stinging, immediate pain, that soon faded, yet I knew had to be taken care of. It wasn’t as bad as what I’d felt before, that I knew.
I deserved this somehow. Didn’t I?
But all I had asked was a simple, innocent question. I picked up another shirt, and ducked into Terra’s bathroom, removing the shirt and retrieving my roll of auto-bandages. This was hardly anything, if these things worked like they did in the future, I wouldn’t have any problems. As long as she didn’t see them. I supposed they might look like something from this era, just had certain different properties that made them a little bit more powerful than this time’s average bandaging mechanisms.
What had I done?
Remember, I told myself, that she has every reason to hate me... she has every reason to treat me this way, she has all the justifiable excuses in the world to do so, all of them, every reason...
I sighed shakily as I wrapped the bandages around the reddened area on my chest. I tried not to look up at myself, as even my own reflection reminded me of my father... and of my mother, and how I shared almost none of my appearance with her.
We had the same blue eyes, though his were a shade darker, fitting for him, dark hair, skin tone. There was almost nothing very indentifying that made us distinctly different beings on the outside, though my hair was longer and that I was younger. I wasn’t even an inch shorter than him.
My own reflection reminded me that I could never truly get away.
I stared at myself, as the bandages started to match my skin tone and its abilities starting to heal the very slight injury.
At this moment, I made a very rash decisions, ripping them off of my skin, knowing it was probably in vain, to make myself anymore different than him in appearance. The redness had already gone down. All it had been was just hot coffee spilling on me... it was hardly anything.
Why did I try to heal my scratches and bruises and burns and bones? Why were all of these things almost entirely reversible where I was? It would be one thing I could control to make myself less like him.
Longer hair was almost a win for me, an eighth of an inch a success. But it wasn’t enough.
On the inside, I had tried to make myself different. I tried to convince myself that I was. That I absolutely was not like him, that I wouldn’t turn out to be like him. But as I’ve grown, I learned that would never happen. I thought like him, I thought of how stupid people had been once, how easy it was for them to give into him, I wondered what it would be like. What that kind of power felt like. But it was not something to envy, not something to desire.
The only reason I’d want it was to conquer him. To become more than him. But I would never be better than him. He may have even had the same reasons to keep on climbing the way he did. We had too much in common, though I hated to admit it. I was caught in a cycle that went on and on and on and would never stop.
Until now. I would do whatever it took to accomplish the goal I’d had in mind. And if I didn’t... there’s always a backup plan.
I stared in the mirror again, a part of me wanting to slam my fist into the glass, images pouring into my head like the way melodramatic historical television used to be, my hand bleeding and the glass shattering my image in grim triumph. Yet I knew I shouldn’t do this. It would just be causing Terra more problems, it would be completely disregarding her earlier kindnesses, entirely disrespectful. And highly unnecessary.
But I still wanted to do it, and I was fully capable of doing so. Instead, I pulled on the other t-shirt and stepped out of the bathroom, carefully putting the coffee-stained shirt into the “laundry” room at the end of the hallway.
I wound up on the couch again, staring up at the ceiling, back where I’d began. It wasn’t even six o’clock in the morning yet. It sure was early. I yawned, and closed my eyes, before the cup in the sink came back to mind... was it broken? I slowly rose to my feet and brought myself to the sink again... the mug was fine, to my and probably Kainni’s, relief. Maybe. I think she’d care about this...
I didn’t feel like I’d be able to get much more sleep, and it was rather early in the morning, and Kainni was out there, out on the sidewalk somewhere... she’d be fine, I knew she would. And once again, she didn’t want me there. And all she wanted to was express this to me.
Yet I wanted to make sure she was okay... she seemed pretty upset. And I caused this, did I not? I caused her to wind up here, where she never wanted to be, when she had a better cause to be at...
“‘I wanna time travel... I want to go back a hundred years or something like that...’
‘I can take you... I can take you back...’
‘...thank you, thank you, thank you, so much!’”
I wondered why this girl kept coming to my mind. She was an old friend, I knew that much, and she might have been important, but when we moved that time my father had gotten his first promotion... she just wasn’t there anymore. We were just so far away. Who was she?
Why was she haunting me?
Those bright green eyes, that smile, the bright red hair...
I scanned Terra’s house for some method of writing. I knew how to write freehand, I had a very highly monitored mePad, something I knew that private tutors showed my father, because they were his minions as well. I really had no privacy where I came from... but that was minor compared to the way it used to be.
I found some oddly colored paper, a tiny stack of little squares. I pulled one off; they all had some sort of adhesive on the back of them. A pen was laying on the counter. I took it, writing that I had gone out to follow Kainni and that we would be back soon.
I didn’t want to impose on Terra much longer, yet I didn’t find it to be a very appealing time to go wandering the streets of 2009 just yet.
I hurried out the door into Terra’s backyard, closing it gently, though it didn’t make too much sound, even when it had been slammed. Just blew in a lot of air.
The first thing I noticed out here, however, was the sky. It was painted several shades of orange and pink and yellow, as the sun was rising. And it was so clear, for the miserable storm that had been there the night before.
Though the ground still held the wet and sometimes muddy aftermath of the storm, this bright sunrise shone above it.
Gradually, I made it out of the backyard, and to the sidewalk.
Kainni hadn’t gotten far. A few blocks ahead, she stood still, staring at the sky as well. Once again, it felt like I was interrupting a moment for her. But I continued walking ahead. The city wasn’t so entirely visible here, with the sky like it was now. Kainni’s silhouette was shrouded in the light from the sunrise.
I had now crossed the street. I felt nervous as she turned a little, having heard me approach, I assumed. But rather than give me a sharp, piercing stare, she looked down.
“Weird how it can be so nice after a storm like that.”
I nodded, coming closer with great caution. Now I stood beside her. She directed her eyes to the sky again, which was growing brighter with every second.
“Yeah,” I replied, quietly, unnecessarily.
We watched in silence as the sun continued rising, as the sky started turning light blue once again. It was not an awkward silence, but one with each of us for once not lost in thought, but in awe of this beautiful piece of nature.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Kainni said, very quietly, very uncharacteristic for what I’d seen of her. Suddenly, another memory of the girl came to my mind.
We were on a swing-set, the girl and I. I was swinging fairly high, yet she was getting higher. The girl then jumped off her swing, appearing to fly off gently, landing perfectly.
“How did you do that?” I asked.
She looked at me, very surprised. “You don’t know how to jump off a swing?” she said.
I nodded. I really hadn’t ever tried.
The girl immediately came up behind me, pushing me, pushing me higher and I kept getting higher, and then she shouted, as she gave me a forceful push...
“JUMP!!”
So I did... I landed hard on the ground. I almost immediately began to cry, because hitting the ground that hard had hurt, badly, and the girl, came down next to me. She cried as well.
“I’m sorry, oh, I’m so sorry, Troy, I didn’t mean to...”
I stared at Kainni, and looked down quickly, knowing she didn’t like me watching her. She had green eyes, pale skin.
Red hair.
That wasn’t enough for a person to be the same person you knew too many years ago. That wasn’t enough defining character to fit a person you haven’t seen in over ten years.
She danced in the thunderstorm yesterday. The little girl had run to the window. That girl had loved rain, too.
A coincidence...
Though I may not have understood, there had to be a lot of people who appreciated storms like I thought she did. Did she even really like them, or did she just take them in for the moment?
Kainni yawned minutely, and started turning around. “C’mon, we should probably get back to the house,” she said, starting slowly back toward Terra’s home. I walked beside her. Surprisingly, she didn’t try to walk too far ahead of me, or behind me, or directly push me away. I mirrored her strides as we made our way back.
As soon as we reached the entrance of the back way into the house, Kainni stepped inside, making her way back into the guest room without another word.
Kainni
Why do I feel guilty? Okay, so I threw hot coffee on him... but didn’t he make me wind up here? Had he not most likely destroyed my chances of getting back to where I’d wanted to be? I should not be feeling guilty, not for an Abbort, never.
But I still did. I hated those eyes, that gently piercing stare that you could read as well as it could read you. The things hiding beyond his gaze. I didn’t want to think of him as a person at this point, I realized, and I was regarding him cruelly, because I didn’t want to have to admit that there might be more to him than what I thought he was. I knew I could be acting very ridiculous right now, but it WAS his fault I was here.
And in the first place, it was his father’s fault that I’d left the way I did. It was all their fault, I couldn’t help that.
But somewhere, deep down, I knew it couldn’t be all his fault. I knew I just wanted someone to blame, to make it easier for me to handle, to turn grief and helplessness into anger and power, and for me not to have any responsibility. It was just easier that way.
I knew that I’d made him end up in this same place. He didn’t seem to like being here any more than I did. Even though I’d wanted so badly to travel back one hundred years as a child.
Which reminded me, he’d helped me accomplish one of my childhood dreams. Although the world I’d landed in was much less of a fantasy of historical intrigue, than more like opening the mythical Pandora’s Box.
As I flopped onto the bed, something square-ish and solid obscured the softness of the bed, nailing me in the small of my back. I stood up again, to observe the obnoxious thing, when I realized it was Terra’s book.
Attached to it was small handwriting crammed onto a tiny piece of pink paper.
I figured you might get bored around here. Sorry for ditching you guys again. Here’s a book if you feel like reading or something when you get back. Not the happiest thing on earth, but it’s pretty good anyway.
-Terra
I picked up the book cautiously. There was a strange plastic film on it that it made look older than I knew it was, and I glanced at the back cover, a little barcode covering the other one stating it was from a certain library. I flipped through the pages before deciding to start at the beginning of it.
I’d never really read a real, printed book like this. All of mine had been digi-books, accessible through the same novel-processor, you purchased one and you had an entire library on your digital book pad. You could highlight things and underline things with the various tools of the processor.
The processor tried its best to make a perfectly clear, readable formatted novel, that even allowed you to flip through pages by dragging your finger across them, but it was absolutely nothing like the weight, the concreteness, of a real printed book.
Curling up against the headboard of the guest bed, I read through the first few pages, almost automatically captivated by the plot as it was being set up, the vague way of saying that all was not well for this unfortunate heroine.
It felt like hours had gone by when I was finally pulled out of the well-written, miserable world of Olivia and her friends, to be sucked back into this similar land, the seasoned shouting of Terra into her phone dragging me back.
“Shane, could you at least TRY staying home for one day?!... Yeah, I know... I know... I’m sorry... I know, okay, okay...” She sighed.
“Yeah, yeah. Well, you’d have to leave before six... no, you can’t come back after that... What is with you?... If you’re so desperate to come over, then leave now... ugh, whatever, alright, bye.”
It looked we were going to have some extra company again.
I folded down a corner of the page of the book, and left the solace of the guest room once again. Terra sighed again, looking only the tiniest bit less drained than earlier.
“Oh, hey, Kai... can I call you that? It’s kinda easier than...”
“It’s fine,” I replied, letting go of my frustration. It wasn’t a bad name or anything; I just liked my full name better than that plain nickname.
“So, what’s happening now?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew the drill, even for just being here one night.
“Shane... fought with his dad again and he’s coming over here. Again. I hope you two don’t mind,” Terra said, trying to sound nonchalant, and as non-frustrated as possible. The way she spoke, now turning on the sink for the coffee cups, let me know that Terra, although she seemed a little dissatisfied at this morning’s events, she would have let him come over whether we minded or not. Troy nodded from the couch, staring at the screen of an old-fashioned television. It was very old, square, a cube shape on a stand. Most of the televisions we were shown as examples from this era were more similar to the main monitor screens that most people had in their homes—flat, stuck upon a wall, and very wide.
The littler box was a bit more interesting, however. Something different. I hesitantly sat down next to him. He had a remote control, and had fixed himself to a music video channel. The corner of the screen showed a logo of the word “Fuse” and there was a man playing a guitar, on a couch, pages of someone’s writing on a wall. The scenes flashed from him to a teenage girl walking through what I assumed to be a school, pulling down her sleeves, and writing in her diary. The man with the guitar sang about a girl named Kristy, asking if she was okay...
Almost immediately, I recognized the lyrics from the book. The main character’s friend and her had been having a conversation in song lyrics, and this had been one of them. Paying closer attention to the video, I realized that there were many parallels between it and the novel.
Troy sighed, and pressed a button to change the channel. “No, wait... I want to watch this,” I said, reaching for the remote.
“It’s just a music video,” he mumbled, as he changed it back. He seemed a little distracted, or inattentive, his mind in other places. I kept watching the video intently.
And then we were interrupted by a loud, obnoxious doorbell ringing, followed by a couple rapid knocks on the door.
Dear Journal,
I’m beginning to find it funny that I and many others in the past have started their diary entries with “Dear Diary” or “Dear Journal” or name their diaries and journals when the inanimate objects are not really the ones who listen to them.
So, I will now just write this journal like it’s a conversation, a prayer, to You. I know You hear me and listen to me, God, all the time. It doesn’t matter what I say to the journal, I guess, because You’re always there. You know a word before it’s on my tongue. Or the tip of my digital pen.
I’ll still keep this journal for my own recollection, however. I want to remember everything, everything You’ve allowed in my life, everything You’ve set out for me.
I went to the date on Saturday. We went out for coffee, and walked around in a park, a really nice one, one that I knew my best friend would have loved. She’s still single at the moment, hasn’t had a boyfriend since the end of senior year in high school, but she takes the single life very well. And most certainly doesn’t depend on a guy for her self-esteem. She is the incarnate of those talks in middle school about romantic-relationship dependency.
Anyway, everything went ridiculously well. I don’t know why I was feeling so bad about it on Monday last week.
Or maybe I do.
The sermon in church today was about trying to listen to God. Being still and listening to him, trying to discern what He (You) is/are saying to us.
I do feel a little uneasy after last night. Are You telling me something?
I don’t really understand, though. Alexander is great. He’s very respectful and polite, and very intelligent. He’s looking into a career in science, engineering, inventing things. He isn’t awkward with the amount of intelligence he had, no stereotypes for him. He’s got a lot of potential, though. I can see him doing something big someday...
And he’s so sweet, too. Maybe he’s just a good talker, but he definitely has me.
I could easily take to liking him. I guess I should just be careful.
He asked me out again for next Friday.
My friend is messaging me now...
“Hey, M. How are you? How’d your date with Alexander go?” she said, absolutely unsubtle about her desire for details and information.
“I’m doing very well. And it was wonderful...”
She smiled, smirk-ish, telling me to spill all the details with her green eyes. So I did.
I didn’t like coffee much, so I had a hot chocolate at the cafe, while Alexander had a semi-expensive cup, black. People around us were busy on their laptops, surround sound headphones on their ears, connected to their meTops, chatting away or typing and sending essays for their classes.
At first, it was awkward, I not knowing what to say, and him seeming to think over his words very carefully. But after a while, we warmed up to each other, and conversation came very easy.
He’s just a year older than me, and lives out on his own. He has a lot of drive in his plans for the future, for his career. He didn’t have a job at the moment, yet he still seemed to have enough money for necessities, maybe more. He’s been working on it for years. Outside of that, he said he mostly read and wrote some things. Recording his own studies and such. I know there had to be a creative side to him, however. He had a mePad that fell out of his pocket, with some sort of story title labeling it.
He wouldn’t let me see it, but I didn’t mind.
The only topic that he really seemed to avoid, however, was his family.
“So, you’re going to school pretty far from your hometown. How are your parents taking that? I mean, mine are definitely freaking out, they message me every day...”
He seemed to tense up, a hint of anger coming to his beautiful blue eyes.
“Let’s not talk about my parents, alright? So, what do you do outside of your class work?”
I decided with the sharp way he diverted the subject, I wouldn’t bring it up again. So I talked to him about everything.
“Then we went to a park,” I said to Natalia.
“Oh, cool! Which one? I’ve been needing one for this project...”
“I don’t remember the name, but it was really nice, you’d like it. It was about a few blocks from the school...”
I remembered us, though, the sky changing color above us, stars peeking out from the city lights smearing them. I remember that we were having a wonderful conversation. And so kind and traditional, he brought me back to my dorm room, which I usually shared with Natalia, who out at her parents for the weekend, and kissed me on the hand. I knew she’d find this ridiculously sappy, but I liked it.
I could not wait until next Friday. I write this as Natalia rants on and on... I still need to have my reservations. I still have to be careful. But I just can’t wait...
Kainni
I was wearing a blank tank top and cargo pants, dark black eye makeup and had spiked bracelets on, with a studded belt, my choker also shimmering a little in the sun. I had a sword. And I was fighting someone. We were sweating on the summer day, I was nearly losing. But I couldn’t let myself lose... the person I fought was my enemy, and I needed to win, no matter what it took.
My enemy had on a black sweatshirt, with the hood down over him. The sleeves were torn off from the sweatshirt, scratches and bruises on his yet-sculpted arms. I couldn’t even identify him from underneath the hood and the hair in his eyes. Even with our swift moves, circling each other...
He was moving too quick. This battle was important somehow. It was absolutely vital. Our surroundings were spinning, but it blended into the background. My opponent was all I could focus on...
He slashed at me, and nearly cut my arm. I started toward him faster. Our blades slammed into each other, and we mirrored this multiple times, before I pressed the blade very close to him. He pulled his away quickly, before charging at me. I put all my strength into the next move, strategically hitting his blade so as to knock it from his hand. He stood there still for a moment, and I started to move in, but he pulled out a dagger very rapidly, grabbing my sword on its blade. Blood poured from his hand, but my grip started to loosen as he attempted to rip it from my own fist.
I stood my ground, however, pulling it away from him, and he raised the knife...
We were both prepared to move, when our surroundings stopped spinning, and something crashed into my back, forcing me forward, driving the blade into the heart of the boy... and he fell backward, like in slow motion, as the hood began to come down. The dagger was released from his hand, and the force behind me, a hand, came to my back again, shoving me forward, the blade on a collision course for my heart...
I jolted awake, breathing heavily. My hand was across my heart, protecting me as I gasped for breath...
I didn’t get the chance to see who the person I murdered was. Or to turn around and see who shoved me toward what would have caused my death. I tried to breathe deeply. Where on earth did that come from?
There had been a strange, morbid power during that nightmare, though. Like I could win this battle, with whoever it was I was trying to beat.
Except for the moment my sword had finally driven itself to his chest. There had been a sick feeling consuming me, and I couldn’t even feel the pain as the force had shoved me to do it. Just that horrid feeling as blood came from him, as he started to fall, the hood nearly coming down. And yet I still couldn’t see that face.
I heard some murmuring from the hallway, snapping me out of the vivid memory of the dream.
There were pauses between words, and they were too close to be in the other room anymore.
“Shane... you’ve gotta go now,” Terra whispered to him. A pause, like their lips were meeting again. Ugh.
I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand of the guest room. It said it was 5:30.
“Just a little longer,” he said, sighing slightly.
“Mom’s gonna be up soon...”
Another sigh.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Shane replied.
Another pause.
I could tell they broke from each other again.
“See you Monday,” Terra whispered.
Shane didn’t reply as he started to walk away.
“Love you,” she said a little louder.
He paused as he walked, and still didn’t reply.
“Me too,” he said, distantly. It was hard to tell if he was telling the truth.
The door to the guest room was cracked a little, and Terra removed the oversized t-shirt she was wearing, revealing a few faded extra marks on one of her arms, and heading back into her room, before emerging in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, rather quickly. She then proceeded to go into the kitchen.
Wasn’t it Saturday? Was it not at least four hours too early for “teenagers” like us to be waking up?
The aroma of coffee soon wafted through my door. I groaned slightly, turning my head into the pillow I’d slept on. I didn’t want to be up at this hour, I didn’t want the memories of yesterday creeping into my brain, or the thought of bloody swords and shoving hands taking over my imagination.
I pulled the blanket over my head, but I knew without a doubt, I had no more chances of sleeping any longer.
Troy
A house door opened and closed, and I awoke. I cracked my eyes open a little, blinking slightly, as I adjusted to my surroundings. I was in Terra’s house, I remembered... and the events of yesterday poured back into my head. It had to be much too early for this. I closed my eyes again, leaning my head back down.
I heard footsteps coming back to an area in the vicinity of the room. It must have been Terra, the steps light, yet slightly heavy, from lack of sleep. A switch was flipped, and I assumed a light came on, my eyes able to detect the minor change.
She started pulling out a glass dish or cup or something, setting it on the kitchen counter, as a machine started to hum quietly. A strong, familiar, yet unfamiliar, scent wafted through the kitchen and living room. I felt a twinge my stomach.
Her mother’s door opened slowly.
“Morning, Terra,” came a weary voice, yawning. “Oh you made the coffee, thank you.”
“No problem, Mom,” said Terra, quietly. She must have done this a lot as well. A tiny door in the kitchen opened, maybe one of those above-storage... what did you call them? Cupboards? doors opened, and the sound of small objects rattling out of a small plastic container was cut off by, perhaps, landing in a hand.
The glass cup was picked up again, hot liquid pouring into it, sizzling a little. It was passed, I believe, perhaps to another hand.
“Thanks, sweetie,” Terra’s mother said again. Sip, swallow. The plastic container with the little capsules was shut back into the cupboard.
“I’ll be home around six tonight.”
Terra didn’t respond out loud immediately, pouring another cup of the hot liquid.
“Alright.”
Her mother picked up something by the couch, probably a purse, and traveled out the door, closing it quietly. Then she started her car.
I probably wasn’t going to be able to sleep much longer, so I decided to “wake up”. I yawned, sitting up gradually.
Terra took a sip of the hot, dark brown liquid, and then spit it out into the sink. She coughed a little before noticing that I was awake.
“O-Oh, morning, Troy. Sorry if I woke you. Coffee’s just a little too hot, you know?”
I nodded, like I understood.
I never really liked it. It reminded me of my parents now. One who’d grown to like it, one who’d grown to detest the innocent, mostly morning beverage. And now it reminded me of them as well.
“Want any?” Terra asked me, as she raided her freezer for a tray of ice cubes, preceding a jug of milk from her refrigerator.
Old technology. It was fascinating.
“No thanks,” I replied.
“Alright.”
I stood up gradually, stretching, and made my way into the kitchen as Terra pulled out a tall container of sugar and pouring a generous amount of it into her cup, dousing it with the milk until the coffee looked just a shade tanner than my skin tone. She then proceeded to take a sip of the pale liquid, and appeared to be much more satisfied with its taste and temperature than earlier.
“Uh, sorry for, umm... just leaving you guys out there like that last night.”
“Oh... it was fine. No problem.”
What was there exactly to apologize for? We truly hadn’t had any problems... it was more her and her poor excuse for a boyfriend that I was worried about.
She nodded, looking as though she felt a bit awkward.
“Well, I see you got the couch,” Terra commented, as she absentmindedly stirred her coffee with a small spoon.
“Yeah, it was alright.”
There was a pause in our conversation, Terra stopping her stirring for a moment, looking thoughtful.
“So... what did Shane mean last night, about you and Kai, or whatever her name is, erm... knowing each other?” she asked, tentatively.
I thought about the question, and internally winced a little as I pondered it. Should I go along with Kainni’s story, which cast me as the disliked and dislikable ex-boyfriend, or... something else? It made sense for me to be someone she hated. And she had all the reason in the world. I guess this would be the best transposition I could make for now, for it all to make sense...
“Yeah... w-we... we were having some problems, and...”
I had to think like a jerkish ex-boyfriend...
“No, seriously. What’s going on?”
Yet another reassurance of the lack of the Abbort lying (and acting, I suppose) gene.
“W-Well...”
A loud yawn very conveniently interrupted me as Kainni stepped out of the guest room.
“He was a jerk. That’s just it. Gosh, you guys are loud...”
“Sorry,” Terra grumbled, sighing, a hint of frustration in her voice. Kainni looked over at her, trying to figure her out, I presumed.
“So...” Terra started. “How do you and Troy know each other, Kai?”
“Yeah, Kai?” I asked, somewhat nervously. She glared at me, before she had that sinister glint in her eye again.
“Well... basically, he just generally ruins my life on a daily basis.”
Terra stared at Kainni suspicious, and I questioningly.
“I can tell you all about it.”
She was trying to be serious, but it all came out acidic, just like her previous speech. I was somewhat interested in her translation of what had happened in the future to how it could be if I was like the person she was trying to portray me to be. Whatever it was, I could take it, and it would be true.
I was looking down at the floor, not playing my part very well.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t need the details. Just work it out.”
She started heading toward her room again.
“Hey, Kainni, I’ve got some clothes, you can change into if you want...”
“Uh, sure,” she said, taken off guard, dragging out the removal of her cold stare from me.
I looked away from her, turning my back, and staring at the counter.
What did I do, but... I deserved this, I was sure. But somehow, it still hurt. I had to take it.
I didn’t let her fall earlier. When I watched her go with Shane, I felt concern for her. My father may have destroyed her family, and our time machines had interfered, but...
What had I done wrong?
Kainni
I still couldn’t bring myself to let this go. He was an Abbort. Maybe I would’ve fallen and hit my head on the ground, but how bad could that have been, yesterday? Maybe I would remember any of this and I could learn how to be a resident of 2009.
But I couldn’t. And he was the reason why. I couldn’t let it go.
Terra led me into her room, opening a drawer and pulling out some clothes, which revealed various concealed things... some things unrepeatable, probably used in the occasion in which her “boyfriend” apparently violated in entering her room, a strange clearish object, a lighter, perhaps? and a pack of... ugh, I now recognized them from the Substance Abuse History Unit of one of my social studies classes, cigarettes.
She didn’t look like she smoked or anything like that. She didn’t seem to be a person who would... be the way she is, yet... she was.
I glanced around her room. She had posters of bands and singers she might not even listen to anymore, a picture of her when she was must have been at least a few years younger, in black and white, a somber Asian girl with a gentle smile and a bright girl with dark brown hair on either side of her. A frame was turned down. Her mirror had sticky notes on it, reminding her of school assignments, her floor a little messy...
Around her room were many photographs, with labels as gifts from one particular friend, who signed her pictures simply, yet artistically, in very small script Kim.
Yet the most striking piece in her room was one that was not so in tact, as much so that it looked like it had been worn and literally, torn and put together again about at least 10 times.
It was of her, and Shane, probably taken as a candid photograph, his arm draped lazily and comfortably around her shoulders, both of them looking like they were having a good time, Terra mid-laugh, and him with a similar, light-hearted expression.
I could easily imagine what had brought her to rip this picture so many times, yet it almost hurt to look at it myself.
Another thing that caught my eye was a book laying open on the vanity of the mirror. The page was early in the book, about a girl and her friends in orchestra, her keeping a secret, and as much as I was drawn into reading this old-fashioned, printed novel, what I noticed, was the even more old-fashioned library card.
Sawyer, Terra N.
It had to be a mere coincidence, that her last name matched my mother’s maiden name...
“Good pictures, aren’t they?” said Terra, quietly startling me as she broke the silence. She extended her hand with a pile of folded clothes.
I accepted them cautiously.
Terra sighed.
“Kimura is... was... is a good photographer, don’t you think...” she said, wistfully, trailing off.
“Yeah, she... is.”
She swallowed as she dug some forbidden object out of her drawer. “You don’t mind, do you?”
It was the lighter and the box of cigarettes.
I shook my head, though I did mind.
“I’ll be outside.”
I nodded, taking the clothes to the guest room. I changed, wondering what had brought on the drop in Terra’s mood. Something must have happened to her friend... I bit my lip. I didn’t like to think of things like that.
Where I came from, everything now was rare. People lived long, mostly good lives, unless they got super-bacterial infections.
Or at least that’s what it looked like on the outside. Who knows what went on behind the closed doors?
Like Alexander Abbort and his propaganda...
I slipped on a pair of denim pants, jeans? and a cotton t-shirt. I debated on what I would do next. Glancing out the window of the guest room, I confirmed that Terra was outside, and snuck back into her room.
I looked at it, at the old school papers, and other items and such...
“Do you really think you should be doing that? Violating someone’s privacy that way?” came a quiet voice.
Abbort.
I glared at him. “Like you don’t. That’s the way you try to rule the world, isn’t it?”
“I... I don’t, I’m not...”
“Don’t try to defend yourself, you know you’re...”
“I’m not, I try, I... maybe I am, but...”
“You are.”
He turned away from me, shaking his head, trudging back down through the hallway.
I stared back down at Terra’s possessions, at the papers and the photographs. The one with her and Shane still stood out to me. She had one of just Shane, probably taken professionally with his thoughtful looking pose, leaning against a wall, maybe for school.
My eyes wandered down to the book. The girl in the book, I wondered... what had she to hide?
I picked it up, putting my right index finger in between the pages that Terra had left off on, to glance at the cover. Let It Out was the title. Hm. I paged through it, scanning over the first few pages and chapters, but one passage sucked me in...
A confrontation between her and her father, about a permission slip, which most parents would love to have where I was, yet it had turned extremely violent.
I could feel my heart beating faster just reading that passage. How could anyone live with such unloving, horrifying parents?
This was not a thing of the past where I was, yet it was studied like it was. Like our lives were so far above the meager existences of those who endured history.
Like everything wrong had disappeared, like the feigned peace speeches spelled out “utopia” for our far from perfect world.
I opened the book back up to where Terra’s library card marked her page. Terra N. Sawyer. My mom’s former last name had always seemed strange to me, a woman with the name Natalia having such a plain name like Sawyer for her last. Ceiltra fit her better, it wasn’t so plain. Though I knew my mom had entertained the idea of combining my father’s and her last name. It fit her to think like that, but I liked the name Ceiltra. I couldn’t see us as being Sawyer-Ceiltra’s.
Those details were insignificant right now. I wondered why Terra would like to read a book like this...
And then something else caught my eye. A handwritten poem attached to a letter.
Why
I was right there next to you
I watched you slip away
I watched you fade as I felt part of me
Slip with you
I never thought
That this could end so fast
That life could be lost so fast
That we could be over so quickly
I don’t know how to go on
Without you by my side
I don’t know what I’ll do
Without you now
After you,
I’m waiting
I’m lost, confused
Wondering why you had to go
Wondering why I’m left alone
After all we’ve been through together,
Why you leave me here
Why you had to go home so soon
And I ask God, why?
And I don’t want to believe
That you’re not here
I don’t want to feel your absence
Everywhere I go
Places that used to be full of joy and life
Empty and void and dark
Yet I know you’re somewhere
So much better than here
I know you’re not in pain
That you don’t even have the time or reason to miss me
And this dark place,
To face another day,
I’ll just have to live
By knowing one day we’ll meet again.
Dear Terra,
This was Kim’s poem about my brother that she wrote a couple years ago. She gave it to me, but I felt that maybe she would have wanted you to keep it. II couldn’t believe it when the news got here to our mission in Africa. My parents were crying with me by the end of the email. I’m so, so, sorry. I wish I was there right now, I’m sorry I can’t be there for you like I used to be. But we were called.
I thought about Lee, and the accident a few years ago, Mom and Dad thought about him too, probably, a lot after finding out. I have no doubt where they are, though, Terra. They’re in Heaven, content and without pain, endless joy with God and they’re together, Terra. They’re happy.
God works in mysterious ways. Earlier today, because we still had to go in and help with the church building and the teaching in the elementary school, 10 kids and adults came and accepted Christ as their savior. It was incredible.
And I dreamt about them last night, Terra. He showed me they were doing wonderfully. It’s a beautiful place.
I hope you’re doing well, Terra. We’ll be back soon, don’t worry. And don’t forget, you’re never alone. The Lord is always there for you. I hope you realize that. Don’t forget.
Love you like a sister,
Alana
Attached, was a picture of the dark-haired girl with people I assumed were her family, and a group of African children gathered with them, looking like they were a part of Alana’s family as well.
I swallowed, as I lifted up one of the overturned picture frames. The frame was flimsy, and I pulled on the back of it, sliding off easily.
On the back of the photograph was the label
“15th birthday. Left to right: Lee, Kim, Alana, Me, Shane, 2007. Taken with Kim’s fancy camera with the stand.”
The somber girl in the picture was Kimura, a photographer, gone far too young. Alana’s brother had also died too young. Why had such things happened back then? Now?
Did they still happen? Why?
I stared at the photographs, as I lethargically put Terra’s room back to the way I’d found it, walking out slowly.
Troy was standing by the counter, staring at the floor, looking thoughtful and unhappy. He looked almost exactly like his father, but his hair was longer and his eyes, they had not yet become cold and unfeeling and deceiving.
But warm, filled with emotion, transparent, a true gateway to his soul.
He glanced up as he saw me entering the room.
“Look... I... I’m sorry_”
“Don’t be,” he murmured. “I know... I’m... I’m sorry, too.”
Troy Abbort finally looked me straight in the eye. Such a stare could easily break the hardest hearts.
I could stare him back for a moment, before my gaze landed on the floor. I heard the sliding back door open, Terra stepping in.
Troy walked to her. I could smell the scent of her carcinogen-filled stress relief easily upon her clothes now.
“Hey... Sorry... about that,” she said, yawning slightly. “I think... if it’s okay, I’m gonna go back to bed. Is that okay?”
I nodded. She seemed drained. I felt a tiny sliver of understanding from the glimpse into her life I’d gotten from her bedroom and the sounds of her hallway at 5 in the morning.
“Thanks.”
Once again, she retreated to her bedroom. I began feeling guilty for violating her privacy now, yet I was beginning to understand some things about her. Maybe even beginning to understand some things in this world. Peculiar that I should land 100 years in the past... it used to be one of my dreams when I was younger. I don’t understand what my fascination had been with that, and now that I was here, I couldn’t possibly imagine why I’d wanted to come here.
I yawned, feeling tired, yet knowing I was unable to fall asleep.
Troy poured a cup of coffee into a clean mug, cautiously, and brought out the milk and sugar that Terra had taken out a little bit ago. He made a cup similar to hers, drinking it hesitantly.
Coffee. That was a certainly a good idea. Maybe it could wake me up a little more... not that I really needed it after my unnecessary venture to Terra’s bedroom. Terra N. Sawyer. I couldn’t get that last name out of my mind. It wasn’t as though it was horribly uncommon. I poured a cup of the steaming-hot coffee for myself, hoping it was okay with Terra. On the rare occasion I allowed myself to use such a substance as caffeine to assist me during the day, I tried not to make it less concentrated. It was strangely contradicting to what I’d even expect from myself, but coffee was better without such things interrupting its consistency and flavor.
I took a sip, immediately noticing that it wasn’t nearly as good as it was where I had come from, but it would have to do.
Troy was watching me again.
“Could you please stop?” I said, doing my best not to sound irritable. My attempt wasn’t very successful.
“I’m... I’m sorry. Again. But... how do you drink your coffee black like that? Isn’t it kind of bitter?”
I shrugged.
“It tastes fine to me.”
He shuddered a little.
“I don’t like coffee.”
I shrugged again, as I downed another fourth of the cup. My father drank his coffee black like I did. It was more of an addiction for him and Mom, yet now she tried to avoid it unless it was entirely organic, and maybe for other reasons. I didn’t ask why. Part of me wished I did now, though it was so trivial, so insignificant. But now I knew I could very well never get the chance. I stared into the cup, feeling an ache creep into my gut, into my heart again. I didn’t want to think about this. I wanted to be angry again.
It was his fault. I shouldn’t be apologizing for anything, this was an Abbort’s fault, after all.
I glared at him sharply again. I stared down at the cup, and then at him. My wrist jerked a little, the liquid flying from the cup to his chest, and I slammed the coffee mug angrily into the sink. So what if it broke. It was his fault, all his fault... I hurried out the sliding back door, slamming it shut, a gust of air blasting into the kitchen, as I shoved my way outside, out of her backyard, into her neighbor’s yard and onto the sidewalk, wanting to be anywhere but here.
Troy
I didn’t realize how hot that stuff was, even when I was drinking it. Then again, there had been the milk in mine. Kainni’s drink was splattered all over one of the shirts Terra had so kindly purchased for me the night before, and it caused a stinging, immediate pain, that soon faded, yet I knew had to be taken care of. It wasn’t as bad as what I’d felt before, that I knew.
I deserved this somehow. Didn’t I?
But all I had asked was a simple, innocent question. I picked up another shirt, and ducked into Terra’s bathroom, removing the shirt and retrieving my roll of auto-bandages. This was hardly anything, if these things worked like they did in the future, I wouldn’t have any problems. As long as she didn’t see them. I supposed they might look like something from this era, just had certain different properties that made them a little bit more powerful than this time’s average bandaging mechanisms.
What had I done?
Remember, I told myself, that she has every reason to hate me... she has every reason to treat me this way, she has all the justifiable excuses in the world to do so, all of them, every reason...
I sighed shakily as I wrapped the bandages around the reddened area on my chest. I tried not to look up at myself, as even my own reflection reminded me of my father... and of my mother, and how I shared almost none of my appearance with her.
We had the same blue eyes, though his were a shade darker, fitting for him, dark hair, skin tone. There was almost nothing very indentifying that made us distinctly different beings on the outside, though my hair was longer and that I was younger. I wasn’t even an inch shorter than him.
My own reflection reminded me that I could never truly get away.
I stared at myself, as the bandages started to match my skin tone and its abilities starting to heal the very slight injury.
At this moment, I made a very rash decisions, ripping them off of my skin, knowing it was probably in vain, to make myself anymore different than him in appearance. The redness had already gone down. All it had been was just hot coffee spilling on me... it was hardly anything.
Why did I try to heal my scratches and bruises and burns and bones? Why were all of these things almost entirely reversible where I was? It would be one thing I could control to make myself less like him.
Longer hair was almost a win for me, an eighth of an inch a success. But it wasn’t enough.
On the inside, I had tried to make myself different. I tried to convince myself that I was. That I absolutely was not like him, that I wouldn’t turn out to be like him. But as I’ve grown, I learned that would never happen. I thought like him, I thought of how stupid people had been once, how easy it was for them to give into him, I wondered what it would be like. What that kind of power felt like. But it was not something to envy, not something to desire.
The only reason I’d want it was to conquer him. To become more than him. But I would never be better than him. He may have even had the same reasons to keep on climbing the way he did. We had too much in common, though I hated to admit it. I was caught in a cycle that went on and on and on and would never stop.
Until now. I would do whatever it took to accomplish the goal I’d had in mind. And if I didn’t... there’s always a backup plan.
I stared in the mirror again, a part of me wanting to slam my fist into the glass, images pouring into my head like the way melodramatic historical television used to be, my hand bleeding and the glass shattering my image in grim triumph. Yet I knew I shouldn’t do this. It would just be causing Terra more problems, it would be completely disregarding her earlier kindnesses, entirely disrespectful. And highly unnecessary.
But I still wanted to do it, and I was fully capable of doing so. Instead, I pulled on the other t-shirt and stepped out of the bathroom, carefully putting the coffee-stained shirt into the “laundry” room at the end of the hallway.
I wound up on the couch again, staring up at the ceiling, back where I’d began. It wasn’t even six o’clock in the morning yet. It sure was early. I yawned, and closed my eyes, before the cup in the sink came back to mind... was it broken? I slowly rose to my feet and brought myself to the sink again... the mug was fine, to my and probably Kainni’s, relief. Maybe. I think she’d care about this...
I didn’t feel like I’d be able to get much more sleep, and it was rather early in the morning, and Kainni was out there, out on the sidewalk somewhere... she’d be fine, I knew she would. And once again, she didn’t want me there. And all she wanted to was express this to me.
Yet I wanted to make sure she was okay... she seemed pretty upset. And I caused this, did I not? I caused her to wind up here, where she never wanted to be, when she had a better cause to be at...
“‘I wanna time travel... I want to go back a hundred years or something like that...’
‘I can take you... I can take you back...’
‘...thank you, thank you, thank you, so much!’”
I wondered why this girl kept coming to my mind. She was an old friend, I knew that much, and she might have been important, but when we moved that time my father had gotten his first promotion... she just wasn’t there anymore. We were just so far away. Who was she?
Why was she haunting me?
Those bright green eyes, that smile, the bright red hair...
I scanned Terra’s house for some method of writing. I knew how to write freehand, I had a very highly monitored mePad, something I knew that private tutors showed my father, because they were his minions as well. I really had no privacy where I came from... but that was minor compared to the way it used to be.
I found some oddly colored paper, a tiny stack of little squares. I pulled one off; they all had some sort of adhesive on the back of them. A pen was laying on the counter. I took it, writing that I had gone out to follow Kainni and that we would be back soon.
I didn’t want to impose on Terra much longer, yet I didn’t find it to be a very appealing time to go wandering the streets of 2009 just yet.
I hurried out the door into Terra’s backyard, closing it gently, though it didn’t make too much sound, even when it had been slammed. Just blew in a lot of air.
The first thing I noticed out here, however, was the sky. It was painted several shades of orange and pink and yellow, as the sun was rising. And it was so clear, for the miserable storm that had been there the night before.
Though the ground still held the wet and sometimes muddy aftermath of the storm, this bright sunrise shone above it.
Gradually, I made it out of the backyard, and to the sidewalk.
Kainni hadn’t gotten far. A few blocks ahead, she stood still, staring at the sky as well. Once again, it felt like I was interrupting a moment for her. But I continued walking ahead. The city wasn’t so entirely visible here, with the sky like it was now. Kainni’s silhouette was shrouded in the light from the sunrise.
I had now crossed the street. I felt nervous as she turned a little, having heard me approach, I assumed. But rather than give me a sharp, piercing stare, she looked down.
“Weird how it can be so nice after a storm like that.”
I nodded, coming closer with great caution. Now I stood beside her. She directed her eyes to the sky again, which was growing brighter with every second.
“Yeah,” I replied, quietly, unnecessarily.
We watched in silence as the sun continued rising, as the sky started turning light blue once again. It was not an awkward silence, but one with each of us for once not lost in thought, but in awe of this beautiful piece of nature.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Kainni said, very quietly, very uncharacteristic for what I’d seen of her. Suddenly, another memory of the girl came to my mind.
We were on a swing-set, the girl and I. I was swinging fairly high, yet she was getting higher. The girl then jumped off her swing, appearing to fly off gently, landing perfectly.
“How did you do that?” I asked.
She looked at me, very surprised. “You don’t know how to jump off a swing?” she said.
I nodded. I really hadn’t ever tried.
The girl immediately came up behind me, pushing me, pushing me higher and I kept getting higher, and then she shouted, as she gave me a forceful push...
“JUMP!!”
So I did... I landed hard on the ground. I almost immediately began to cry, because hitting the ground that hard had hurt, badly, and the girl, came down next to me. She cried as well.
“I’m sorry, oh, I’m so sorry, Troy, I didn’t mean to...”
I stared at Kainni, and looked down quickly, knowing she didn’t like me watching her. She had green eyes, pale skin.
Red hair.
That wasn’t enough for a person to be the same person you knew too many years ago. That wasn’t enough defining character to fit a person you haven’t seen in over ten years.
She danced in the thunderstorm yesterday. The little girl had run to the window. That girl had loved rain, too.
A coincidence...
Though I may not have understood, there had to be a lot of people who appreciated storms like I thought she did. Did she even really like them, or did she just take them in for the moment?
Kainni yawned minutely, and started turning around. “C’mon, we should probably get back to the house,” she said, starting slowly back toward Terra’s home. I walked beside her. Surprisingly, she didn’t try to walk too far ahead of me, or behind me, or directly push me away. I mirrored her strides as we made our way back.
As soon as we reached the entrance of the back way into the house, Kainni stepped inside, making her way back into the guest room without another word.
Kainni
Why do I feel guilty? Okay, so I threw hot coffee on him... but didn’t he make me wind up here? Had he not most likely destroyed my chances of getting back to where I’d wanted to be? I should not be feeling guilty, not for an Abbort, never.
But I still did. I hated those eyes, that gently piercing stare that you could read as well as it could read you. The things hiding beyond his gaze. I didn’t want to think of him as a person at this point, I realized, and I was regarding him cruelly, because I didn’t want to have to admit that there might be more to him than what I thought he was. I knew I could be acting very ridiculous right now, but it WAS his fault I was here.
And in the first place, it was his father’s fault that I’d left the way I did. It was all their fault, I couldn’t help that.
But somewhere, deep down, I knew it couldn’t be all his fault. I knew I just wanted someone to blame, to make it easier for me to handle, to turn grief and helplessness into anger and power, and for me not to have any responsibility. It was just easier that way.
I knew that I’d made him end up in this same place. He didn’t seem to like being here any more than I did. Even though I’d wanted so badly to travel back one hundred years as a child.
Which reminded me, he’d helped me accomplish one of my childhood dreams. Although the world I’d landed in was much less of a fantasy of historical intrigue, than more like opening the mythical Pandora’s Box.
As I flopped onto the bed, something square-ish and solid obscured the softness of the bed, nailing me in the small of my back. I stood up again, to observe the obnoxious thing, when I realized it was Terra’s book.
Attached to it was small handwriting crammed onto a tiny piece of pink paper.
I figured you might get bored around here. Sorry for ditching you guys again. Here’s a book if you feel like reading or something when you get back. Not the happiest thing on earth, but it’s pretty good anyway.
-Terra
I picked up the book cautiously. There was a strange plastic film on it that it made look older than I knew it was, and I glanced at the back cover, a little barcode covering the other one stating it was from a certain library. I flipped through the pages before deciding to start at the beginning of it.
I’d never really read a real, printed book like this. All of mine had been digi-books, accessible through the same novel-processor, you purchased one and you had an entire library on your digital book pad. You could highlight things and underline things with the various tools of the processor.
The processor tried its best to make a perfectly clear, readable formatted novel, that even allowed you to flip through pages by dragging your finger across them, but it was absolutely nothing like the weight, the concreteness, of a real printed book.
Curling up against the headboard of the guest bed, I read through the first few pages, almost automatically captivated by the plot as it was being set up, the vague way of saying that all was not well for this unfortunate heroine.
It felt like hours had gone by when I was finally pulled out of the well-written, miserable world of Olivia and her friends, to be sucked back into this similar land, the seasoned shouting of Terra into her phone dragging me back.
“Shane, could you at least TRY staying home for one day?!... Yeah, I know... I know... I’m sorry... I know, okay, okay...” She sighed.
“Yeah, yeah. Well, you’d have to leave before six... no, you can’t come back after that... What is with you?... If you’re so desperate to come over, then leave now... ugh, whatever, alright, bye.”
It looked we were going to have some extra company again.
I folded down a corner of the page of the book, and left the solace of the guest room once again. Terra sighed again, looking only the tiniest bit less drained than earlier.
“Oh, hey, Kai... can I call you that? It’s kinda easier than...”
“It’s fine,” I replied, letting go of my frustration. It wasn’t a bad name or anything; I just liked my full name better than that plain nickname.
“So, what’s happening now?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew the drill, even for just being here one night.
“Shane... fought with his dad again and he’s coming over here. Again. I hope you two don’t mind,” Terra said, trying to sound nonchalant, and as non-frustrated as possible. The way she spoke, now turning on the sink for the coffee cups, let me know that Terra, although she seemed a little dissatisfied at this morning’s events, she would have let him come over whether we minded or not. Troy nodded from the couch, staring at the screen of an old-fashioned television. It was very old, square, a cube shape on a stand. Most of the televisions we were shown as examples from this era were more similar to the main monitor screens that most people had in their homes—flat, stuck upon a wall, and very wide.
The littler box was a bit more interesting, however. Something different. I hesitantly sat down next to him. He had a remote control, and had fixed himself to a music video channel. The corner of the screen showed a logo of the word “Fuse” and there was a man playing a guitar, on a couch, pages of someone’s writing on a wall. The scenes flashed from him to a teenage girl walking through what I assumed to be a school, pulling down her sleeves, and writing in her diary. The man with the guitar sang about a girl named Kristy, asking if she was okay...
Almost immediately, I recognized the lyrics from the book. The main character’s friend and her had been having a conversation in song lyrics, and this had been one of them. Paying closer attention to the video, I realized that there were many parallels between it and the novel.
Troy sighed, and pressed a button to change the channel. “No, wait... I want to watch this,” I said, reaching for the remote.
“It’s just a music video,” he mumbled, as he changed it back. He seemed a little distracted, or inattentive, his mind in other places. I kept watching the video intently.
And then we were interrupted by a loud, obnoxious doorbell ringing, followed by a couple rapid knocks on the door.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
