Three

It's a trap.

Voices lurked inside my head like uncanny bees, churning up my inner thoughts into an undulating pool of liquid.

Everything's a setup.

My eyes opened up a line.

Bubbles escaped from my mouth as the water pressure crushed my lungs. The fluorescent sun casted down a magnificent shade of bright blue on the phosphorous sea level. Its waves gathering and unfurling every second.

I failed again. In this unexhustable cycle of worlds. A fiddling kid carrying an illusive dream never ment to be achieved.

My visions started to blurr as exhaustion took over.

If only I had more time...

"Chances are valuable things, Johnson."

Furthur I sank, into the void of darkness. Light ahead started to dim. I reached out my right hand groggily, tempting to wrap my fingers around even the slightest bit of fading sunlight as the bottomless pit tied itself around my waist, pulling on every bits and pieces of memory in my brain, toring them into pieces, disintegrating them like tigers feeding on its prey.

If only I had more time...

The rang grew louder as my conciousness felt like they were being skewered by transparent hands, going into overdrive mode.

Elaina Trace.

My eyes flew open as I jolted awake, gasping for air like an oxygen deflicted fish.

"Eliana."

The name rang in my ears. Just calling the name brought me a pang of of sorrow. But whenever I tried to conjure up the owner of the name, my head started to throb. The answer just wouldn't float to the surface.

Thigs apparently aren't working out for me these days.

I sat up, my eyes scanned the surrounding. Then my vision fell on the clock on the wooden shelf beside my bed. Febuary 16th, 6:40 A.M.

Something's not right.

I shook aside that thought. Bad things won't happen as long as you ignore them.

"Breakfast!" My mom's shout came from downstairs.

"Coming!" I replied as I stretched a little and struggling into my school uiform.

I brushed my teeth and raced downstairs hastily as the wooden floor haphazardly sent up stomps and creeks.

"Morning." I drew the chair back, plopped into it and burried my face into my mother's home-made falafel. The fragrance of fresh home-made jam and butter shot up my nostrils.

"Whoaw there hon, slow down a bit or you'll bite your tougn off." My mom came out of the kitchen just in time to see me ingulfing the sandwich whole, jam and all.

"No worries." I looked up with my mouthful of sandwich jams, my cheeks stacked like a chipmunk's, "See? nothing." Then I glanced behind my mom to find the family photo disappearing from the wall, the stucco walls unharmed, like someone had scraped it clean off, tape and all.

"Where's the family photo?"

"Oh that?" My mom's expression grew a little impatient and waved vaguely towards the bedroom "Under the bed. It's already over, Johnson. And don't you ever speak with your mouth full."

An invisible force seemed to be unnerving me, I swallowed the falafel that stuck in my throat, and that conforted me a little.

Whatever. I thought, that meant everything is going the normal way.

Just as I was about to grab my American-tourister bag from the doorstep, I froze. My gaze moved towards the corner of the room. An intense sensation started pulling at the depth of my heart like it was quashed into a plight and trying to break itself to the surface.

Then it struck me. The feeling of taking in an impact struck by a hightention cable.

"Where's the cat?" I asked." The cage is gone."

"What cat?" My mom replied halfahardedly, " We've got no cat here."

The cozy house suddenly didn't seem so cozy.

"No seriously." My voice was a bit trembling this time."Neko the cat, a ragdoll, black and white. I thought she'll be at the windowsill..."

"I've got no idea wha'cha talking about hon. I'm allergic to cat fur. That you know well."

"No, but..."

"No buts, Now off you go." Mom did a shooing gesture." Gonna be late."

Yes, I do know mom was allergic to cat fur. I've always wanted a cat my whole life. That had always been a dream not fulfilled.

Then why would such a question bounce off my tougn so easily?

"You're dreaming about cats again, aren't you? I told you, never."

"That's not the point." I stammered, my eyes frantically searching for any possible clues." I don't understand. It should be here."

"Uh-Huh." Mom looked dubious.

The world seemed to be rollar-coastering me as my head churned with surging questions. I had the instinct to shout at my mother, tell her nothing was going the right way, and burst out the front door. The image of the cat was clearer than ever. White, with a stream of black streaming down its back right to it's tail tip.

Then where had that image come from?

My head buzzed louder as it fanned through my memories. Wierd stuffs do happen alot,I did vaguely recall my mother stashing the family photo under the bed a few months ago, for what? Part of me felt the urge to scream, cover my ears and escape from reality, but the other part of me wasn't sure why. It felt like schizobulia, my cerebral going into overload as either part of me were pulling in different directions, splitting me apart.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"When did you go to bed last night?" My mother's words snapped me back to the present. My countenance must have been ghastly because my mom's furrowed brows seemed to squish into each other," You good?"

"I'm alright." I fumble for appropriate words in my overheating mind." Just a little woozy, I guess."

"Yeah right. Just go now. I don't wanna hear my boy here sprouting nonsense." she showed her animosity, and I know it's my time to retreat. I do not want to be assulted by apprehensive words catapulting from my mother's mouth later.

"Be back at five!" I shouted back at the doorstep as I retrieved the bike lock and hopped on.

The sky was a misty hue of white as clouds blocked the sun like stickers, unmoving even if the early spring breeze swept by once and a while. I would've appreciate the clouds if it wasn't for the heat that tried its level best to choke me to death. I made a beeline down the streets, endured a bunch of senior citizens flailing their arms as corny pop music boomed from a loudspeaker nearby, waved hello to some exasperated officers, and turned the third right, heading towards my school as it slowly emerged into view behind rolls of tall buildings.

I charged into the classroom just as the bell rang. The morning classes felt like forever. I tried not to fall asleep as words pelted my brain, causing miniature nuclear meltdowns inside my cerebral.

The whole day passed with me drooling in class. It wasn't until the dismissal bell when Tim woke me up. "You ramble in your sleep."

"Like usual." I replied with no particular ethusiam.

"You look hideous." He handed me a Kleenex. "Clean yourself up, man. Glamorous scores doesn't mean snoring in class."

"It's a usual thing."

"Dang I want glamorous scores. Can I take a look at your notes on your textbook?"

I ruffled inside my bag and handed it to him. "All yours. Let's leave before dusk falls."

We trudged downtown as Tim fanned the pages of my cramped cursive, trying to make sense of my frenzied writing.

"Why is there a corpse drawn on page 30?" He asked with an expression as if his mind was engaged in an erratic corkscrew.

"That's an anatomy map of a frog. You dork."

"Oh."

He kept contemplating my scribbles as we strode among rows of skyscrapers glistening under the afternoon sun, tracing a sea of blood red onto the tarmac. Normally I would've preferred sunset for its shade of amber, but the disgorging crimson really unerved me.

"Are there any secrets towards good grades? Like vegetable inhaling or somethig?"

"Nope."

"That was too quick."

"Yeah maybe."

He went back to cryptanalysing my notebook.

The crossing was as normal as it could be, cars wooshed by as the red light shone leisurely, a newly constructed building stood on the other side, MML, I noted, Mental Mechanism league, with its logo shining a light blue and white.

"Let's take a detour," Tim gestured to a pedestrian street going dowhill. "Wanna go for some bread."

We picked our way down the steady path as the thousand-year-old-like path gave us surprising bumps."See the tall one back there?" Tim kicked a ridged stone aside and it rolled down the hill.

"You mean the MML? Yeah, pretty sky-scraping.ever heard of it?"

"Yeah, paid it a visit some days ago. They told me something."

"How's it like?"

He tensed, opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it.

We walked on in silence. I tried to give him some space, it wasn't common for a buff guy like Tim to fell silent.

"You got any ideas about your memory gap?" He seemd to come out of his daze.

"I thought this topic was long gone. What?"

"Nah, its... its nothing." He looked up and smiled. It wasn't his usual smile, with a hint of child-like naughtiness. His eyes were a little mournful, for which I'd never suspected to see on this guy."Something's better not to know."

"You're not going somewhere are you?"

"No...no. I'm not going anywhere." He heaved a sigh and tried to give me a reassuring smile.

The rest of the walk continued with silence. The sky turned from orange to dark red, then finally a mixture of black, purple and grey. Streetlights flickered on as grasshoppers began clicking behind the tall bushes, but the closed shops on either side of the street are starting to give me the chills.

There's nothing up ahead, that I knew well, only more woods.

"Where are you going,Tim?"

He stopped abruptly.

Silence.

"Tim?" I reared back.

His face was hidden in the shadows as the night wind howled. I couldn't quite make out his complexion though I could sense something.

Something wasn't right.

"It's unfair, isn't it?" His sillouette started to tremble. No, not exactly trembling. It almost seemed like...

"We BoTH aRe SoulS, Aren'T WE?" His voice started glitching like a computer on the verge of breaking apart. "JoHnsOn F LanyLL, YoU're thE real ThrEaT. You'Re Not meAnt To bE."

That's defenately not a good sign.

I watched in horror as his shadow grew, morphing, what once was as a slight tremble became more intense, slowly taking shape of something I couldn't quite place.

I tried to form words, instead it came out as a splutter. Because where Tim should be standing, Where he should be standing...

A scent I knew well came wafting in my direction. The scent of wet fur of dogs in the pet zoo.

Where Tim should be standing, there was no Tim.

There was a Three foot tall hound barig its fangs as it fixed its eyes on me, ready for its dinner.