If you could restart your entire life, would you do it?

For me, it wasn’t even a question.

For that reason, when I saw this old book hidden amongst my late grandfather’s boxes, there was no shot in hell I wasn’t about to give it a read. It carried it’s own mesmerising air, like the contents of this book were of some mystical origin.

I sat down on the dusty, weathered sofa of his old parlour. In all fairness, when I was still a kid, he would always talk about Nan and her ‘superstitious little trinkets’, but I’ve never seen one of them till now.

The book looked important - too important to be left in a box in an attic. I wonder why Nan hasn’t done anything with it; maybe grandad was the superstitious one all along?

As I gently dusted its hard leatherback casing, I felt a sharp sensation on the tip of my finger. The book suddenly came alive, as if reacting to my person, and the dull umbre that was the leather reinvigorated into a bright, deep crimson.

My finger felt unnaturally warm, and I looked at it, only to realise I’m bleeding. I didn’t feel panic, however, it was more of a gentle realisation, the way you realise you’re going to be late for work, or that you’re about to miss your train.

I opened the book, and I just sat down and read. I read about the lion eating the sun, about salt, sulphur and mercury, about the gold and the silver, I even read about the “truth” of the world; I read and read till I realised too late that it was almost evening.

I looked at my phone - 21 missed calls from “Mum”, 3 missed calls from “Dad”, and even one from my sister, which honestly shocked me the most. I accepted I’d be finished when I got home from my Nan’s, and continued to read, encapsulated in the contents of this book.

It was addictive to say the least. I didn’t even feel like I understood what I read, yet I couldn’t find myself questioning any of it. I just read and digested till reached the final page, titled “To Live Twice”, a very interesting title for the end chapter of a book, I thought.

What I read next made everything I’ve lived for till then, everything I’ve endured to get to where I was, all the disappointments, the losses, the highs, the lows - all of it felt naught.

It was like I knew exactly what I had to do.

“Why would you come home so late? Your Nan has been worried sick,” my mother sighed as I walked through the door, book clutched tightly in one hand.

I waved her off and took off my shoes, “Sorry about that, I just needed some time to absorb this shock I guess. You know, grieving and all.”

“You hardly knew him,” she began, cutting the cucumbers and throwing them into the salad, “What do you have to grieve about?”

I looked at her, at a loss of words, “You know, you’re a really blunt person, Mum.”

“I get that a lot. Dinner in 20, don’t be late for that one as well.”

“Sure, sure. Oh and, by the way, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could buy sulphur, no?”

She looked at me like I was speaking in Latin, then just shrugged her shoulders and continued making the salad. Well, that was helpful.

I sat down at my desk, pulled out my laptop and did some research. According to the book, the most important things I needed for this to work were 50 grams of salt, which was easy enough to obtain, 66.60 grams of sulphur and 140 millilitres of liquid mercury. Where I’d find those last two I had no idea, and the book also mentioned that the purity is also something that will heavily influence the effectiveness of this potion.

A couple of unfruitful minutes later, I had a moment of common sense just hit me like a truck; mercury is something we experiment with at school, so I’d just need to bottle some up and take it home.

2 down, one more to go.

Finding where I could get some sulphur was nowhere near as simple as I imagined. All the sites I found were either shady or the sulphur looked less like sulphur and more like frozen piss, so it took me a while till I stumbled upon someone selling 99.9% pure sulphur on eBay.

Stroke of luck. Finally.

It’s been a few days, the sulphur should be arriving this evening. I can feel the cold sweat trickle from my brow - am I nervous? Why should I be? There’s no other options for me, regardless; this either works or it doesn’t.

Finally, the ringing of our doorbell breaks that exhausting silence. I rush down and collect the parcel, then run back up to my room before my mum could even call my name.

Alright, we are all set.

Mix water that has been sanctified by an ordained priest with the salt, then the mercury, and then 20ml of fresh dew water. Crush the sulphur into a fine powder together with 50 caterpillar heads, 20 pairs of fly wings, 2 scarab beetles and a drop of your blood to finish it off. Mix the 2 mixtures together in a quartz or marble bowl, and leave in the sun for 20 minutes.

If successful, the mixture should smoothen over into a rich, green colour, with no lumps or bits or whatnot. I stared at that bowl for what felt like years, hoping and wondering wether I really had lost it after grandad died.

_Please… just work…_

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The 20th minute came upon me, yet nothing happened. I felt a tear burn its way across my face.

What was I missing?

I looked through the book again, reading it carefully this time rather than in that state of trance I always fall into while reading it.

Of course it didn’t work - I missed something!

Something that… didn’t make sense?

“What on earth is pixie dust?”

I felt at a loss. Was this whole thing just a big joke? This isn’t a fantasy world where pixie dust existed, right? Whatever, I was too deep into this now to turn back empty handed; I needed to find this so called pixie dust.

I sat down at my desk and thought of what I could do now. How would I go about finding something that isn’t real? Maybe there’s a real life counterpart to a pixie I can use, the way crocodiles are referred to as modern dinosaurs and whatnot.

I searched on that laptop for what felt like the most pointless 50 minutes of my life. I couldn’t find a single lead; everything just led back to fantasy core and ore nonsense that couldn’t be based in any facts. I needed something — something I could look at be certain that what I’m doing isn’t an unironic waste of time.

That’s when I saw it — apparently, pixies were known to have a spiritual connection with horses, riding them and frolicking with their manes, so if I was going to find pixie dust anywhere in the world, it would be in their manes for sure.

Luckily for me, I’ve been doing horse riding since I was like 5 and only did take a break because of an injury; long story short, if pixies are truly real, the best place I could find them in this city would be at the stables my aunt owns.

A careful drive later, I arrived at the stables, greeted my aunt and made a beeline for the horses. I got a pair of scissors, snipped at their manes and grinded the horse hairs into a fine powder. Out of an airtight container, I pulled out the concoction I had earlier. I’m assuming that since I’ve done the 20 minute waiting, all I’d need to do was add the powder and recite the the 5 letter word the book gave me.

I poured it all in, and almost immediately I saw a change in the concoction.

It actually worked, for the love of heaven, it actually worked.

“Alright… **_Vivus.”

_**A small pop escaped the bowl as the concoction fully transformed into a rich green. Without hesitation, I drank that whole thing down and prayed for a miracle.

I closed my eyes, imagining all the things I’d do differently if this potion actually worked. The mistakes I’d amend, the life I’d live, the sorry’s I’d give and the—

Suddenly, my vision went blurry. My mouth foamed like a hot bubble bath, and I clutched my stomach in searing agony. My mind was doing cartwheels in my throat, my heart was beating in my feet and my ears were hearing through my skin.

Was I dying?

I opened my eyes, though I could only see with the clarity of a camera built in the early 19th century. I saw a pair of feet, though they did not touch the ground. However, the shoes I saw we’re unmistakably recognisable.

“Good to see you again, my boy. Now, stand; your life will never be the same again.”**_

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