Year 2016 — Chapter 1: The Portal
Events flashed before my eyes in a depressing light show, each scene more haunting than the last. The convulsed faces of the zombies were etched into my retinas like deep, angry scars. The echoing sounds of heavy gunshots hammered against my skull, a relentless barrage. The sight of armed rebellious militants, their eyes wild with defiance, sent shivers down my spine. It’s hell out there, I thought.
I closed my eyes.
Disturbing thoughts crossed my mind. We had been locked up in our cells for years, our curiosity smothered. But alone in the laboratory, we discovered what they were truly hiding. Fear crept up my spine like icy fingers. They had hidden everything from us; they never wanted us to know. We were being hunted for uncovering the truth. So, we ran. Images flashed: us sprinting down dark, echoing hallways, the cold, metallic walls closing in; chasing a train, the ground vibrating beneath our feet; fleeing from gunshots, the air crackling with danger. We ran, but never fast enough.
I looked into the distressed eyes of my friends, their faces smeared with dirt and sweat, covered in debris, panting heavily as we ran for our lives. Their eyes met mine, silently saying, “I’ll miss you.” My eyes flooded with tears as I mouthed, “I am sorry.”
I opened my eyes.
The metal wall banged in the distance. The authorities were closing in. I could hear bullets striking the wall with the intention of bringing it down. We didn’t have much time. “Make sure to go somewhere where nobody can find you, not even us,” Josh said, his voice trembling with worry.
Everything had led to this moment. Here I was, standing here in front of my friends, about to press the button that would alter my life forever. I stared into the eyes of my closest peers, tears blurring their silhouettes into distant shadows. My lips trembled, searching for words, but all I could say was, “Goodbye.”
I closed my eyes again.
For once, I didn’t see my peers with whom I had endured everything, but myself, much younger, 9 years old, running across a sun-drenched field on a peaceful, hot summer day. There I was, carefree, the world full of possibilities, filled with innocence. The boy turned, with the purest smile, and asked, “So where are we going?”
My lips broke into a weak smile. “To bliss,” I said, my smile widening, “to 2016.”
Nostalgia is a strong drug, I thought.
I let out an agonizing scream as the portal engulfed me, disintegrating me into atoms that would never see each other again. I was dead.
Then, I woke up.
