So this is a post that I'll be making use of my blogging DeLorean and Flux Capacitor to write. At 88 wpm, I'm hoping to make it back into yesterday's posting time frame!
Tag: Back To The Future
The Journey – Broken Dreams
“Do you remember how you got here?”
The man’s voice echoed in the tiny room as I glanced up from my dazed state. Reality hit me pretty hard as my eyes readjusted to the stark white room with no windows. “No.” I replied quietly. My eyes finally focused back in and I glanced to the man asking the questions. His suit was a charcoal grey and the white shirt beneath it seemed brand new. His tie perfectly matched the colour and fabric of his blazer and he hummed through a three day old growth of a beard that still seemed masterfully groomed. He glanced up from the pad of paper in front of him and tapped his pen as he hummed. With a sigh, he stared into my eyes, long and hard. The icy blue pierced into my very soul, and I felt a quick shiver fall over me. His voice stopped me from staring too long.
“Do you know, or understand where you are?”
As he asked the question, I considered my answer. In reality, no. I had no idea. He leaned in with an examining gaze and wrote tiny words onto his notepad.
“When can I leave?” I asked impatiently.
“You’ve been in an accident. I’m the doctor examining you psychologically. My name is Doctor Harris.”
With his words my mind flashed back to what felt like mere moments before I ended up in this room.
***
“Tamara, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My father said gruffly. “It was just a nightmare, nothing more.”
My father had always been a stubborn man, his unmarked trucker’s cap barely hiding the salt and pepper mane beneath. He spoke of a dream, a dream I had that felt so vivid I was sure I’d lived it. “Dad, I’m telling you. We were on this very road, it began to rain, something hit us and you didn’t make it.” I could feel the tears welling up inside again as it brought me back to that moment.
My father shifted uncomfortably in his seat and tugged at his seatbelt. I could tell he felt uneasy, but he wanted to be strong for my sake. “I won’t have this discussion again. You’ve said this every time we take this road. We haven’t died yet, have we?”
I crossed my arms in a huff. Of course he was right, or we wouldn’t be having the conversation. “But tonight is different.” I protested.
“You said that the other night.” My father grumbled as he fixed his hat. “Still alive though, right?”
“Yes, but tonight we were forced to take this road! It was a tad convenient that the other road is flooded out!” I could feel my pulse racing. I glanced out the window and looked for the rain.
“It’s just some dam overflowing, it happens Tamara.” He said, his patience growing thin. “Turn on the radio, I’d rather not talk about dying while I’m trying to drive. Don’t need a self fulfilling prophesy.”
I reached for the radio dial and a small tinny thud echoed from the roof of the van. I paused a moment to look at my father and then the heavens began to pour. My heart was trying desperately to escape my chest, beating against my breast bone like a hammer.
My father swallowed hard as he squinted through the rain. “Coincidence.” He muttered while flicking the wipers on. As they whirred back and forth, clearing litres of water away from the windshield, I watched my father turn on his high beams. I’d never seen him use them; his night vision was impeccable. “It’s just a precaution, Tamara.” He said softly.
We drove another ten minutes before we came to an intersection. The four way stop seemed useless as there were no cars in any direction for miles. We sat a moment until my father turned to me. “Do you want to go back? I don’t want you to feel ill like last time.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, dear god, yes.” My eyes darted from windshield to side window and back to my father. “This feels too familiar. In fact, it feels nearly the same.”
“What’s different?” My father asked finally, his curiosity had been piqued.
“Not sure, but I-” My breath abandoned me while I watched the car crumple like paper around the man who had raised me. I tried to scream, but the words came out in a ringing sound much to my dismay. Slowly, the car lifted from the road and began to separate nearly perfectly in two. My father’s side of the car lifted up and out of reach, his hand extending to me for aid. Strangely everything moved in slow motion, my hands couldn’t leave my body and I watched as the other half of the car, and my father, disappeared into the rainy night sky. My half of the car hadn’t completed its journey as the forces of gravity and momentum tugged at me from every which angle. My blond hair whipped me in the face, as fragments of glass showered me like the rain. The world spun a few more times, until finally coming to a rest with the open side of the car facing the sky.
I stared straight into the rain, unblinking as the water washed away the shock amid the tears. It was just as I’d dreamed it. Every detail.
My head pounded, I tried to move and found that I was most likely bleeding internally. Breathing became a labour and staying awake suddenly became a chore. With the click of the seatbelt, my weakened body collapsed to the door frame atop many small square shards of glass. Safety glass my ass, corners are still sharp when you’re lying on hundreds of them. It took the entirety of my strength to pull myself to my feet, and after a moment, I pushed myself over the jagged shards of metal jutting out from the car’s torn midsection. A few cuts, nothing really to worry about.
“Da-ad…” My lungs gasped for air halfway through a one syllable word, probably not the best of things. A deep inhale did nothing to quell the fire in my chest as I coughed into the night. “Dad!” I screamed between coughs, I knew in my heart I didn’t want to see him. But I also knew I had to. “Dad!”
My eyes settled on a hunk of metal wrapped neatly around the trunk of a tree. I’d never made it to this part in my nightmares. With no concept of what to expect or what to do, I tried to rush to the wreck. Despite the entirety of my focus being on the mass of metal, my peripherals weren’t seeing any other vehicles. “What the heck hit us…” I whispered to myself as I wandered up and onto the road. Down the lane I watched as car lights flickered in and out of the fog.
“Hey…” I called as I began waving my arms. “Hey! Help!” My lungs hated that sentence as I coughed up some blood. Definitely not good. As the car approached, I noticed it was a classic car. Not modern in the slightest, but decades older. I stood directly in front of it as I waved my right arm wildly, my left arm felt a bit numb, but I only needed one to attract attention.
The car careened past me and vanished quickly into the fog across the road. More lights suddenly caught my attention and I tried desperately to fall out of the way. As I landed, my body lay in the cold snow, much to my shock.
With an ear shattering crash, the next vintage car crashed into the thick field of trees off the side of the road. My eyes stared at it, as both passengers lay dead in the snow beyond the tree. My mind grew fuzzy and I turned back to where my father’s wreck was. “Dad?” I called out, but to nothing. Unblinking, I stared at the four way intersection or where it used to be. A single straight road travelled for miles in either direction. Panic set in, my heart raced, my lungs heaved for air. “Dad…” The words whispered out and were lost in the breeze.
***
“Miss, are you listening to what I’m asking?”
I glanced back to my interrogator from my memories and clenched my jaw. “Not really.”
“Maybe you just need some rest.” His voice was firm and in an instant two men wheeled in a cot and set it up in the corner of the room.
“Maybe.” I said. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”
The man stared long and hard at me for a moment. “No, not yet.” He cleared his throat and collected up his notepad and pen. “But that will depend on your cooperation.”
As the trio of men left me alone, I could feel exhaustion hitting me like a boxer punching a speed bag. Cot, table, floor; wouldn’t matter, sleep would be incredible.
***
“Do you think she knows?” A voice whispered from the darkness.
Doctor Harris entered the dark room with a clear wall looking in on his patient. He shook his head in response. “No, I don’t believe she does.”
“What if she finds out?” The voice asked urgently.
With a shrug, Doctor Harris turned to the man asking the questions. “She cannot control it, nor can she leave that room.” He stated. “It’s travel proof and we have nothing to worry about Sir.”
The short bald man beside him leaned forward into the dim lighting from Tamara’s room, his dull complexion even duller in the unflattering light. “We may have to extinguish her.”
Doctor Harris gasped. “Wait Val, no! We need to understand how she can do this with just her mind!”
“It’s too dangerous.” Val’s resolve was final. “In the blink of an eye she travelled back seven decades and killed a blood line by getting in the way of a family car. The President for twenty ten? No longer exists.”
***
To Be Continued – Possibly… Thanks for swinging by, this is a growing concept and this is sort of how I imagine the start of that story. The whole concept would be that Tamara could go back in time and try and save her father but in the process destroy her existing self all the while trying to stay one step ahead of the Tempus, a secret order bound to control time travel and police the preservation of the existing time line.
Anyway! This has been an enjoyably creative evening and I look forward to posting again tomorrow. I’d love to know what you think of this piece of writing (Unedited, so I apologise for any mistakes I may not have picked up) and the over all style. Things I personally don’t think I did well? Capture her emotion at all, I tried to go with dazed and confused but it almost sounds to me cold and not that emotional at all. Let me know if you agree!
A few quick call outs as some people thanked me for naming them as they got a few follows and likes. The support is helping, so please reach out and touch another writer so they can feel the same way you felt getting a new like or follow! It may be that one thing that makes them post more to their blog or get back on the ole’ NaNoWriMo horse… Every little bit counts!