Day 2089. I’m on cooking duty today. Cooking was my favourite shift but getting out of bed is taking a lot of effort. Well, if you can call bed to a musty sleeping bag with holes on the outer layer.
Today’s menu will be: boiled potatoes. Perhaps there’s be a prune for dessert. Most likely not.
I hear the rain pounding against the dirty windows. More rain is the last thing we need. The walls of the abandoned building that we’d managed to enclosed in safety were already full of dump. It was now the end of September and the nights were getting colder. Even wrapped in my blanket in the sleeping bag I could feel the cold settling in my bones. There’s no way we can spend the winter in here, we’d have to move out soon. I’m not sure what I find less enticing: the prospect of a freezing winter or another move.
We haven’t had any nasty surprises over the past few weeks, yet I keep waking up filled with dread. The calm feels unnatural, as if it’s only a forewarning of something terrible to come. It’s like in horror films when there’s nothing scary happening yet, but the music starts to escalate and that’s how you know it’s coming. Every minute feels like that, it’s exhausting.
Believe it or not, the constant anxiety is not even the worst part. The boredom is. Hours and hours go by without nothing to do. We have a few books that everyone has read five or six times over. John has a deck of cards, which after playing for a few hours straight you don’t want to see in at least a week.
Actually no, the boredom is not the worst. The lack of hope is. We survive day after day knowing that nothing will change. There’s always that tiny little bit of your mind that thinks: perhaps there’s more people out there, smart people, people with a plan. This micro dosis of hope only makes the disappointment at the end of the day harder, and reality more painful. If there’s more survivors, they’re surely in the same desperate situation that we’re in.
I look out the window, it seems that the rain is slowing down. Between two dark clouds, a bright blue gap starts opening. The rain hasn’t fully stopped yet and a shy rainbow pops up halfway the parting clouds. Almost against my will, I can’t stop my own sad smile from greeting the beautiful arc.
I’ll ask John for a game of cards today.
It was almost midnight when I found the body. The pier was deserted but I still felt quite exposed. The soothing drone of the waves crashing against the abandoned structure felt deafening. With my gloves on, I squatted next to the dead body and carefully searched the coat pockets. A folded piece of paper was there along with a small wooden box. Just to be sure, I checked inside the coat as well but I did not find anything else.
The cold breeze cut my face as I briskly walked the eerie dock back to the car. Waiting until reaching the flat would have been wiser, but patience was not my strong suit.
The note contained a set of coordinates scribbled in red marker. Eager for another clue, and for leaving the docks, I checked the wooden box. It was locked. It resembled a little treasure chest, with a miniature opening for a key. Nice detail.
A strong smell greeted me when I got back to the apartment. I had forgotten to take the rubbish out again, but now I did not have time to think about that. Fortunately, the laptop had a full charge. I swiftly launched the maps app and entered the coordinates, which pinpointed the main square of a nearby small town. Bit of a strange location, but I shrugged it off. It was barely a twenty minute drive and there was no need to delay. I tore a sheet from the notebook beside the laptop, quickly jotted down a note, and then headed out.
I wasn’t thrilled about searching in a public square in the dead of night, but luckily it didn’t take me long to spot an envelope tucked under a bench. While I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, it seemed like I was getting pretty good at this.
As I had hoped, the envelope contained a tiny key that I used to unlock the miniature wooden chest without delay. My heart raced with excitement as the little box clicked and cracked open. Inside, there was only a small bell. I sighed with frustration, understanding immediately. Reluctant to come back, I decided to wait. I sat on the bench, examining from afar the sturdy Romanesque church and the small houses around it.
Finally, the sky began to lighten and not that much later, the church bells began their morning song. I felt the now familiar rush of anticipation coursing through my core. It was time.
I stood by the door, so close to it that I could hear the priest’s footsteps approaching from the inside. I briefly closed my eyes to savour the moment. He was surprised to see anyone on the other side of the door. His expression changed from surprise to horror as I pulled the small gun from my pocket and pointed it straight to the middle of his forehead. I pulled the trigger fast, I didn’t want to make him suffer - I’m not a monster. I also couldn’t afford for him to start screaming. The body fell backwards with a loud thump, and I slid my note in one of the cassock’s side pockets.
“Your turn…” I muttered softly, half smiling, as I turned around and exited the blood stained church entrance.
The only reason people study in a library is to flirt. I have no evidence nor doubt of this. It’s like the nerds’ dating app. Everyone’s looking around, constantly eyeing your study neighbours.
Naturally, this was the reason I was in the library too. Deer boy always chose the same corner seat on the big table closest to the door. Deer boy had big brown eyes framed by thick black eyelashes. I often wondered if he wore mascara because those lashes looked unreal. He did this thing where he’d look up from his book and look in front of him really intensely while muttering to himself. He reminded me of a deer who’s just been stunned by a flashlight, but in a cute way.
My principal aim in life is now to get him to notice me. Frustratingly, his study friends are always there taking the entire table. Sigh.
Mid afternoon, he always goes out to the little coffee shop a few blocks away and comes back with a espresso in a tiny paper cup. Deer boy doesn’t settle for the library cheap machine coffee.
Here’s my plan: I’ll buy him the espresso and write my number on the cup. Timing is crucial.
Thirty minutes before he usually takes his break I head out for the coffee. With two cups, on for him with my number and my name on it and one for me for good measure I renter the library, my knees trembling, my heart pounding. As I’m stepping out of the lift, this fast moving figure crashes against me and before I know what hit me, literally, I’m on the floor, both coffee cups smashed and the hot liquid dripping on my dress.
“Sorry!” A girl looking flustered turns her head as she’s pressing down the lift button. “I’m in such a rush but I’m so sorry, hope you’re …” I can’t make out the ending as the lift doors close. I just sit there, stunned, feeling the heat from the coffee transferred into my skin.
“Hey, are you okay?” A voice behind me says. “That was so rude of that woman.” Deer boy is extending is hand to me, looking at me with those huge eyes. The heat I feel suddenly on my cheeks make me forget the coffee burning the rest of my body.
“Funny, I was just going to the same coffee place just now.” He smiles at me while I’m clumsily lifted to my feet. My head is spinning and now I’m the one staring at him wide eyed. “If you’d like, I’ll get you one?” Before I can react, he’s picked up the empty cups off the floor. He frowns as he turns the written cup on his hand. “Emma, huh?” Deer boy seems amused as he disposed of the cups in the bin. “Smooth.”
“I’ll…explain on the way over.” I manage to say, smiling back.
Alright, not a bad outcome. Not as I planned, but not bad at all.
Breathe in, breathe out. Okay, you’ve got this. This man must be really strange. I literally just told his aides there’s been a terrible mistake, that I am not him I am me, and they went along with it. As if it was completely ordinary for this man to come up with stuff like that. To be honest, what is anyone going to do if told of a body swap? Still, there was something about how unbothered they were to hear it that makes me think this man comes up with odd ideas.
Right, focus. The speech. Good news is that if the aides expect weird, possibly the audience does too.
“Sir, the stage is ready.” A small man looking like an old school butler is looking at me politely, extending his arm towards the thick burgundy curtain. I nod and breathe deeply one more time. Here we go.
The bright light blinds me for a second when I stepped out. I blink once, twice, three times and as my sight adjust I realise I can’t see the end of the sea of human bodies. They fill the public square and extend beyond to the adjacent streets. I feel a wave of panic raising.
“Welcome” my voice, well his voice really, comes out weak and high pitched. I clear my throat. “Thanks for being here.” The crowd roars, it sounds like a big storm of applause. It works like a lightning energising my whole being.
“I won’t keep you long today. I won’t keep you long, because your time is the most valuable asset you have.There’s no particular reason why I am the one standing here today - I bet any of you has thought about what life means as much as me.” I pause to look around. There’s smiley faces, there’s focused faces. All the faces are looking up at me, expectant.
“You see, the only answer is: no one knows. What are we doing here? Where are we going? Is there a point even. No one has the answer for these questions. There’s one thing we do know. We are all here now. Standing on the shoulders of those who came before us, and paving a better road for those who will follow our steps.” I notice the silence. You can almost feel the collective breathing, as if the crowd was synced as one entity.
“This is the principle that guides me. Leave everything better than you found it. Leave that room tidier than you found it. Leave your aunt happier than she was when you visit. Take your children’s hands and show them how you do this, so they can continue after you’re gone.”
“If we all live by this idea, we’ll manage to leave a world better than we found it. To me, there’s nothing more important than that.”
The crowd exploded. All of a sudden, my legs felt like they wouldn’t hold the body much longer. I waved, disappeared back into the big curtain, and immediately threw up.
The best of days are when the Kind Enchantress makes me tiny, a little miniature the size of a thumb. Being enormous is fun for a while, but then you quickly grow tired of having to be so careful. The last thing you want is to step on cute animals or the people you love.
When I am tiny, I can run around the house without a worry. I can ride Lily, the mouse, but she doesn’t let me grab her by the ears so I have to hold on tightly to her thick back hair. Lily also loves to be tickled on her belly. Climbing the living room orchids is fun, too. Sometimes I fall, but the pots are so wide that no matter how far up I go I always land on the soft, cushiony soil.
The Kind Enchantress only visits me on odd days when the moon is growing. Some days she brings exotic, strange candy for me, some days we talk about school and she tells me stories, some days she makes me big, some days she makes me tiny.
By far, my favourite thing to do when I am the small version of me is to have a chat with Ruby, the goldfish. Ruby is old and wise. She has lots of stories to tell of her younger days. Oh, she has seen so much! Contrary to what people think, she remembers everything. And when I say everything I mean, all of it. She can tell you what you were wearing any day of the past many many years she’s lived in the house, what you said and even what you meant. She is like a living memory library made of pumpkin colour scales.
You could say, for example: Ruby, can you remember that Christmas Day two whole years ago when Daddy got so mad, and his face turned redder than Santa’s hat? And he threw the stuffing bowl against the wall? Can you remember what I was wearing that day? I really don’t want to forget it, because that was the first visit of the Kind Enchantress, the first time she made me tiny, tiny, tiny, so tiny I almost disappeared. Just they way I wanted.
I can always feel the monster before I see it. But I know it is going to be there from the beginning.
It starts in the big white room, it is so big there is no walls to be seen. Just a wide, bright, white space.
I start walking, but I have no idea where I am going. After a while, I feel its presence. It’s scary, menacing, overwhelming. I feel its size. It is massive and I sense, it is expanding too. I have not seen it yet but I’m keenly aware of the monsters colour: jet black, deep as coal.
I keep walking, my pace steady. Letting out that I’m scared is not a good idea. It might sniff it out, like an animal, and become emboldened.
The monster is looming large over me, getting taller and wider and fatter behind me. My heart races, my breathing accelerates. What does it want from me?
The shady monster is now all around me and, as I’m turning round to face it, I wake up.
Before going to bed, I was always scared. I did not want to go back to the big white room. Sometimes, when I was awake I could feel it, the monster and the fear too. It was a fleeting sensation but enough to send shivers down my spine.
One night, one dream, I ended it. Walking into the familiar white room I mustered all the courage I could. I stopped walking and turned around to face my monster. The black shade surrounded me. It is just a dream, I thought, you are not real!, I screamed.
I never returned to the big white room, but sometimes I still feel the monster’s presence and the fear that it brings. You are not real, you are not real, you are not real.
Monday There was the most handsome man in the train this morning. He looked like he belonged in a magazine, or in a teenager’s wall as a poster. Tall, you could tell he goes to the gym, but not too much, like fit but not a bodybuilder. What I’d give to see that torso. He reminded me of that actor that plays Superman in the tv series.
Mitch is still on leave, thank heavens for that, so had a quiet one in the office.
I need to remember to buy Em a gift, and figure out what to wear for her birthday party on Friday. Dreading the party already. David will be there.
Tuesday Clark Kent was in the train again. What are the chances? Maybe he started a new job, or moved flats so we’re doing the same commute now. We locked eyes today, twice. First time I looked away, like quickly. I’m pretty sure I blushed. The second time he smiled at me. I melted a bit, how can he be so handsome.
Boring day at work, used my lunch break to buy Em one of those giant candles that she likes. Have candles always been this expensive?? Also got myself a new dress that, not going to lie here, makes me look HOT. Feeling confident today, bday party bring it on!
Wednesday OMG Clark talked to me! He was seating in the same spot he always is, and I swear he immediately looked at me when a seat became available next to him. So I sat down, trembling like a little leaf. He asked for my name, his voice soft like honeycomb. “I’m kinda looking forward to the mornings now” he said, and AND I’m not done yet, before he left he put a piece of paper in my hand with his phone number in it!! I’m going to wait a bit longer and message him later tonight, I don’t want to seem too eager.
Also he signed the note as C.K., so chances improving for his name to be actually Clark Kent - how insane would that be? Perhaps he’s a Calvin Klein, which would be pretty funny too.
This is shaping up to be an incredible how I met your father story.
Thursday Clark wasn’t on the train this morning. BUT we’ve been messaging non-stop since last night. He’s funny and sweet and seems genuinely interested in me. How is this even possible? Like, alright I’m cute but sort of in a real world, girl next door kinda way. He could literally date a supermodel. What is he seeing in me?
He wanted to meet on Friday, but I’ve got Em’s stupid party. I suggested Saturday but he said he can’t wait until Saturday? He insisted quite a bit on Friday, even suggested he’d pick me up from my sister’s place. Is this how much he wants to see me?
I feel giddy like I didn’t think I’d feel again, as if a thousand butterflies have taken flight in my stomach.
Friday I didn’t see C.K. in the train today either, but we continued messaging. He has suggested that we meet before the party. The temptation to say yes was strong, but I know myself well enough not trust my ability to leave this man to go anywhere, especially to endure the awkwardness of singing a happy birthday song alongside David and his new girlfriend. Nope, that’d be too hard and Em would never speak to me again if I didn’t show up. I’ll have to play hard to get and stick to Saturday.
I have to head to the party now. I feel more ready than ever to face David. Thank you, Superman.
Sunday
YOUNG WOMAN FOUND MURDERED IN BIZARRE RITUAL The body of young woman, still to be identified, has been found early on Saturday morning in what seems a bloody rite.
Experts believe the murder was committed on Friday evening, at around the time of the Hybrid Eclipse, an extremely rare type of eclipse where the moon doesn’t completely cover the sun, creating a “ring of fire” effect.
The victim was found with a deep burn on her back in the shape of a circle.
An individual bearing the initials C.K. has been taken into custody as a person of interest in an ongoing investigation.
Of course, they were getting married in Ibiza. E-bee-tha, I hated that they pronounced it like Spanish people. Sorry you aren’t allowed to say it like that if you were born north of Andorra.
I did not want to go. If there’s one thing I hate more than posh people is drunk posh people. Fine, let’s look at the positives. There will be food, presumably good since we’ll be in Spain, and free booze. Alright, that’s decent.
At least, Jess will come pick me up at the airport. Maybe it won’t be so bad after all. I’m getting a bit nervous now, not going to lie. I've lost track of how many rotations the conveyor belt has made by now. A decreasing number of bags on it and of people around me give me a queasy feeling. Please not today.
After a couple more rotations, the belt stops. A man starts putting the few unclaimed bags onto a cart.
“Excuse me, my bag isn’t here.”
“Sorry love, you’ll have to take that one to the desk.” The man doesn’t even glance at me, while pointing behind him.
Brilliant.
Well that’s confirmed then. My bag is lost. I see Jess waiting outside the sliding doors, she lifts her arms up when she sees me.
“What took you so long?! I swear everyone in your flight came out ages ago.”
I give her a quick hug. “My bag. It’s lost.” She widens her eyes, then starts laughing.
“Thanks.” I say, drily. “The universe telling me again it’s bad idea to attend your ex’s wedding.”
“More like the universe giving me some comedic relief.” says Jess, still laughing. We’re just getting in the rented car.
“The wedding is in a couple hours. Plenty of time to buy you a whole new outfit. Do you have any preference?” Jess is finding the situation extremely amusing while all I want to do I go home and eat ice cream.
“Just not naked would be great.”
We’re driving past a road of white low rise buildings with big windows and Jess pulls over next to one showcasing flowing white dresses, you guessed it, Ibiza style.
“Jess, are you meant not to wear white as a wedding guest?”
“No, unless you get married in Ibiza and your guests lose their bags. I’m not driving around this island hoping to find a pink frock.” Jess gets off the car and I follow her into the store, progressively caring less about the outcome of the day.
In the time it takes me to gather courage to move a dress on the rack, as if I’m turning the page of a book - activity that I’d much rather be doing right now - Jess has already picked three outfits for me.
“Try these on” she pushes the clothes on my face. “I’ll find you some shoes, those espadrilles would look incredible. You’ll need a bag too, maybe some earrings…”
I stopped hearing her from the comfort of the fitting room. My tired face looks back at me from the mirror. Why god, I see what you’ve done for other people and I want that for me. I’ve got the feeling he’s laughing at me from up there like Jess.
I decide on the first item I try on, a white linen jumpsuit.
“I’ll get this.” Jess gave me two thumbs up like the goofball she is. “Cut the label, I’m not taking it out.”
“Yeah babe! Let’s do this.”
And this is how I found myself dressed in blinding white, wearing way too high espadrilles and sticking out like a sore thumb in my ex’s absurd Ibiza wedding.
“I will bring it up today, Linda.” Steve was staring at the small TV placed in front of the kitchen table, his jaw clenched. The black coffee he drinks first thing every morning is getting cold in the large mug. “There’s no point in waiting, things only seem to be getting worse. Will your sister be okay with us moving in as soon as next week?”
Linda stirred the last few drifting flakes in the cereal bowl in front of her, eyes glued to the TV. “I’ll talk to her.” She placed her spoon down and leaned back in her seat. “I’m uneasy, Steve, this is an important decision. Aren’t we moving too hastily?”
“The city is deteriorating - are you watching the same news as I am?” Steve takes a long, angry sip at his coffee. “These people are out of control. Sometimes, I can't tell who's more problematic, the villains or the supposed crimefighters..."
Linda closed her eyes wearily. "Please, Steve..."
“Do you see the state they leave the city in? Highways underwater, buildings in ruins!"
"We've discussed this already – just think about how much worse it would be without them! The criminals are the ones causing this chaos."
As Beth strolled into the bright kitchen, she caught the end of their conversation. It was a sunny, summer day, only a scattering of lazy clouds dotting the otherwise flawless blue sky. The cheerful singing of birds reached her ears from outside her bedroom window but all she could hear now is the muffled news anchor on TV and her dad loud whining.
"Dad, can we not go through this again?" Linda and Steve both shifted their gaze toward their daughter as she dragged her feet towards the fridge.
“Not to worry dear, soon you won’t have to hear me talk about this again. It'll all seem like a distant nightmare.”
Beth raises an eyebrow while pouring milk into a bowl, sending an inquisitive look to her father.
“We’re moving out of the city.” Steve announced, while putting both his palms down on the table as he stood up. “We’ll be staying at Aunt Lily’s in the country until things calm down. Perhaps we’ll have to move out indefinitely.”
“What?” Beth turned around to look at her dad sharply. “No, dad! I’m not going anywhere.”
“Of course you are.” Beth had seen this expression in her dad before, Steve’s eyebrows slightly frowned. The stressful energy he’d felt a few moments ago has now transformed into action.
“We’ll start the arrangements today. You don’t have to pack everything now, don’t worry, just enough for a few weeks…”
Beth felt her pulse starting to raise. “Dad, stop. I really can’t go, my whole life is here”
“This is no way to live, Beth, with this constant fear and insecurity. We’re taking this decision for your safety…”
“You have no idea about my safety” Beth interrupted her dad, her voice starting to raise. “And if that’s the reason, then there’s no need! I’m happy to stay, I want to stay.”
“Darling” Linda’s soft voice interceded. “We know how difficult this situation is. It won’t be easy for any of us to leave, but your dad and I, we’re scared, the city is not safe…”
“You’re right it is not safe, but it will be, it will get better.” Beth pushed down the knot that’s forming in her throat. She knows she can’t leave the city, she only needs to make them understand. “The crimefighters are gaining ground, soon they’ll have retaken the entire city and…”
“That’s enough, Beth.” Steve began washing up his finished coffee mug, growing impatient. He had made up his mind, finally relieved to have found a solution, even if it was temporary and unpleasant. "It's been months now, and frankly, I'm not even convinced that once this gang of criminals is captured, things will return to normal. It appears to me that the crimefighters relish the chaos, actually."
“What! That’s outrageous dad, of course they don’t.”
“You have no way to know that. Now Beth, please, don’t make this more difficult than it has to be…”
Beth’s choppy breathing grew more rapid and erratic. It was best for everyone if they didn’t know. They’d be safer, and definitely less worried. She had pondered their potential reactions before but guessing was useless. She thought her mother would be supportive yet extremely concerned, clearly not thrilled about it, but ultimately understanding. Her father was a different story. Beth couldn't be certain. He seemed to take the surge in crime and the chaos surrounding crime-fighting personally, as if he was offended that someone else had to clean up the mess after the fights. As if the fighting parties were secretly enjoying the confrontations. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Beth took a deep breath before looking at her dad again. He had assumed the discussion had concluded and was about to exit the room.
“I do.” Beth's voice emerged raspy at first. She cleared her throat and gathered her determination. “I do know the crimefighters do not enjoy this chaos.” Steve turned around, his expression shifting from weariness to wariness. Linda looked up slowly, slightly taken aback by the mood change.
Beth closed her eyes briefly and extended her right arm in front of her. When she reopened them, a small, playful flame danced on her hand.
“I am Blaze runner.”
The hardest part was coming back. Things remained mostly unchanged, but somehow they seemed better every time.
Hannah had painted the front fence white, that was new. The pine wood panels, once worn out and tired, now stood proudly around the quaint house. There was something about white fences that screamed doing well over here to me.
Year after year, the gap between Hannah and me had been steadily widening. She was the one who stayed, yet it was her life that was moving. The husband, the baby, the white fence.
When I left, I didn’t believe I had that in me. Embracing a settled life, starting a family. I felt it so strongly, the need to leave, to be successful, to leave my mark. What does success mean anyway?
“Mr Adams, your car is waiting. I put your passport and boarding pass in your bag as usual. Is there anything else you need?”
“Thanks Laura, no that’d be all. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
On my way to the airport, I wonder what I’ll find this time. Maybe a swing in the front yard. What mundane development will make think: that could have been me.
Only if I didn’t leave.
