Pt. 1

Dark eyes were filling up at every thought that continued to evoke emotions in her. Glistening potently with melancholy.

She tried to contain them, but for how long. The tension in her throat grew weight with discomfort. She’d been drinking, not intoxicated completely. The truth is, she’d been removed from the face of this earth 19 years ago. Abducted by sleep-inducing fumes, solidified within a jelly-like translucent cocoon.

Even when she was mentally conscious she was able to sense and understand, or even hear what was happening to her. Injected with unknown substances. Experimented. She would hear the loud, throbbing motion of her heart pounding from it. She’d felt or engraved within her mind that she wouldn’t make it out of there alive. But she did.

She escaped. Or rather the substance that mutated her DNA, caused her to inherit abilities. Being able to jump-teleport. Telepathy. Surprisingly, the substance was supposed to mutate her, her physical self. But, despite inheriting such abilities. Her body seemed immune.

The world was as if no human being had ever been born. Void with no existence. Except the large alien ship that cloaked itself invisible in the sky. The waist-height pods were still here.

Here she was back on earth. Dahlia at 36 years of age. Sulking. Angry with rage. Overwhelmed. There was something quite emotionally troubling. The once shy, wallflower, and suddenly a free-spirited buzz of energy at 18, had lost out on years.

She inhaled slowly and deeply. Trying to hold herself together. Dahlia wasn’t frightened anymore. Any frenzied panic was completely eased from within her. Probably weeping for some moment made sense, felt right. She wanted to release herself and the burdened pressure that almost was consuming her from within.

After which, Dahlia stared at the pod that stood motionless, her eyes almost squashed together. Enforcing mental telepathy. She’d practiced enough to know what she was destructively capable of. She was able to block her natural instincts or feelings.

The pod failed to read her vital signs, they weren’t human readings. Something far similar to the inflated balloon head entities. When the pod submitted and grew free-she sensed, with her teleport ability she hopped right into it. She knew that the pod was possibly the way for her to teleport back.

…

Dahlia had an idea. A very dangerous kind.
It was suicide.

Pt. 2

The pod had arrived within the large alien ship along with Dahlia. She hopped out and scanned her right and left, picking up red holographic body outlines of inflated balloon head entities through walls. She had been teleported to a pod batch engineering location, where alongside her pod there were still coma-induced balloon head entities resting within many more pods.

She thought of a diversion. It had to be effective enough to draw much attention. She’d began enforcing for greater mental telepathy, causing the batch pods to melt with acidic deterioration. She knew when the deterioration reached to the lower part of the pod, it had an explosive kind of effect. She then jump-teleported away before the explosion was about to ignite as the meltdown reached the bottom, with accelerated velocity.

It tore parts off the ship out into the sky. Dahlia jumped into the mainframe part of the ship where two ballon-heads had been protecting it. Just when they turned towards her, their heads exploded with powder particles. She stood facing the mainframe, a large red ball with a small switch at the centre, with a hole for some kind of a key to activate it.

It seemed familiar she felt, and fished in her pockets quickly. Held in her hand was a micro key-ring, shaped like a miniature pod. She had escaped with it when she was abducted. And knew what to do because just before the ballon heads exploded she had read their thoughts. She knew that placing the key into the mainframe, could initiate two consequences.

Twist to the left would cause the whole ship to go off like a nuclear bomb. Killing herself along with the aliens. She was much acceptable of this, after what had happened to her. Twist to the right, would… Well she had to decide.

Just when she positioned the key-ring into the switch, firmly intent on killing herself along with the ship. Tears filling her eyes. She paused. And thought. What difference would it make? Nothing would change. The real question was, What about time?

She held out her hand touching the mainframe, and then gently, twisted the key ring to the right. The mainframe turned to shimmer with orange along with Dahlia and slowly directing her eyes towards her hand, she began to absorb away. Dazzling light filled the whole place.

…

WAKE UP LIKE IT WERE A DREAM

Dark eyes awoke wide open through the night, and gently she made her way down the stairs. One foot after another. Slowly as the stairs creaked quietly. She probably didn’t have any recollection of it at all. What about time? She had thought to herself as she was about to twist the key. What was right twist?

Well, the victimised 36 was back to 18. Dahlia had in fact, RESET time. She pulled everything back to the same night it had all occurred. Hadn’t it has been for this change, this reset, Dahlia would have killed herself.

The free-spirited, 18 year-old Dahlia paused as she reached the living room. And waited as she stared at the vacant living. It was very silent. Empty of that large gas bursting, sleep-inducing, solidifying jelly cocoon. She thought she had heard a sound. But to her surprise, there was no one there.

A warm smile gently grew over her. There was a twinkle in her eyes. She sighed almost with a sound. Followed by a soft yawn. Wake up like it were a dream. Probably so for her since she had no recollection of such life-changing events.

Dahlia felt safe.