The Messenger

A day in my life, A day in my mind, Imagination, IRL

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The Messenger | This is a long one | If you have a chance to say one last thing to someone you lost: what would you say?

The lasts scenes were something i personnally lived. Seeing an empty appartment – once again – but this time, the goodbye was slightly different. More like a ‘real farewell’. The kind i didn’t expect to say or feel before i would be very old. Or never, actually. But it happened.

This will also be – hopefully – my lasts drawings about it. I’m moving forward. I can’t stay still forever.

Time (4)

Time

Days passed. In the first week of the new year, Simo tried to wrap his head around his new ability: he realized many experiences to acknowledge the extant of his capacity. He touched each of his arms with each hands: nothing happened. Then tried the same experience on strangers: he purposely walked into customers in a coffee shop. Beside the weird look people gave him, Simo learned that his right hand was the one holding the keys to others’ past. He then proceeded to study the length of the flashbacks and for that he needed a volunteer. He called his best friend to be his victim, later in the evening, but the latter made a good point: ‘You know, you’re like a brother to me, but dude, I can’t just.. let you go through my memories like that. That’s… That’s… That’s just weird.’ Simo had a moment of reflection. ‘Mmmh. Then who will be our experiment?’ Ezekhiel felt tired of the scientist side of his best friend. ‘Alright… What am i supposed to do?’ Simo didn’t hesitate and reached for Ezekhiel’s arm who dodged just as quickly. They froze for a second. ‘Wait. How does this work?’ – ‘That’s what we’re trying to figure out.’ Simo replied. ‘I know, but how… What’s going to happen?’ –  ‘Just…’ Simo let his sentence hang in the air and acted on it.

They’ve been teleported to few hours earlier.that day, in the middle of a crowd. Ezekhiel was sitting at a table, pretending to be on his phone. While in reality, he eyed a girl sitting on the other side of the terrace. When she stood up to leave, he mimicked her. On that moment, Simo and Ezekhiel were pulled out of that place to return to Simo’s room.

‘What happp…’ Simo started. ‘WHAT! WAS THAT!?’  Simo stood still, speechless. He didn’t understand. ‘What are you doing?! I wasn’t ready! You can’t…’ Ezekhiel took a deep breathe to contain himself. He began to be worried. ‘What’s up with you?’ Simo asked.  ‘Listen. If we… If i’m going down this road, this dark, fuggy and uncertain road, with you, we need to set some limits, boundries.’ From Simo’s eyes, Ezekhiel saw confusion. ‘Alright, first: whatever you’re going to see, it has to stay between us. Second, you can’t judge me for anything you’re seeing. Third, i give myself the right to add other rules, later on.’ Simo didn’t get to reason why he needed to state the obvious but agreed anyway. ‘Alright. Now, what are we doing? Walk me through it like i’m a baby.’ Simo took few seconds to find his words: ‘Let’s start with that. Ok, think of a specific moment of your past.’ He then invited Ezekhiel to hold his hand. After taking a deep breathe, the latter proceeded to the experiment.

Simo’s room changed to become Ezekhiel’s room. The latter was in his bed, under the covers. A ring broke the silence of his sleep. Hardly, Ezekhiel reached out for his phone and checked the message he just received: Meet me at The Coffee Shop, at 10. He grunted, put his phone under his pillow, screen faced down, and went back to sleep. After few seconds, he sat on his bed. He stayed still until a knock on his door pulled him out of his paralysis: ‘Hey, Zee, wake up! Dad’s waiting for you.’ Once the voice disappeared, Ezekhiel put a foot on the floor, then then other one. He stood up and went to the bathroom at a very slow pace.

As the door closed, Simo and Ezekhiel witnessed the change of scenery from a bedroom to another. ‘You didn’t have anything less relevant than that?’ Ezekhiel gave his friend a death stare, before ignoring him. He checked the chronometer he set up earlier: ‘Four minutes.’ Simo took a serious pose. ‘So, the longest you can see is four minutes.’ Ezekhiel confirmed. He nodded. ‘Alright, what no…’ Before Ezekhiel could finish his question, something warm surrounded his elbow, bringing him back to the terrace he kept watch on a girl, from afar. As she walked away from her table, Ezekhiel turned to his unconsiderate friend: ‘What are you doing?’ Simo glanced at the girl and turned his head to his friend. ‘Hold that thought.’ Simo slowly let go of Ezekhiel’s arm. Once they were no longer in contact, Simo stepped back and waited for few seconds to see what happens. Nothing. He then followed the girl to her home, when the background switched again. ‘What happened?’ Ezekhiel asked. ‘You just disappeared, suddenly.’ A silence settled. ‘Bro! Explain!’ Simo said. ‘When you let go of my arm, i came back to your room but you weren’t there. Where were you? Still in the past?’ Simo nodded. He started to pace. to get his thoughts in order.

What do i know? I can travel through memories…It’s insane… I can choose the memory i want to see, but it will last two minutes and a half only. If the victim volunteers and picks a precise moment to show me, i can stay in it longer. Then, i’ve tried this once, but let’s assume it works every time: i can move into that memory, without the owner. I can walk around in the memory…. I can walk through it… His vision became blurry. Think. Say i can move, i can displace objects: will that change anything to the present? Logically, no. It’s a memory. Nothing can be changed… Although, i disappear from the present when i walk in the remembrance. What does that…

Simo gazed around him. The floor replace the roof, again and again. Furnitures encercled him as if they were alive. He looked at Ezekhiel and tried to focus on him to keep a landmark, but the latter spinned like every thing else. Simo began to lose balance: all he could see, now, was shapes. Indistinguible shapes that became lines mixing walls with furnishings, people and hard floor. A sudden change of pace destabilized Simo: his feet weren’t touching the ground anymore. A sweet feeling of free falling traveled through his body. Face to him, a hand appeared in the middle of fuzziness that surrounded him. It approached his face with a certain slowness. He could see the fingers passing at the focus point of his vision. Then a thumping sound quickened the scene: the hand went out of Simo’s sight. Ezekhiel’s face appeared. And: pitch black. Simo blacked out.

 

To Be Continued