From the Journal of
Steven Keys- October 11, 2021
They managed to save
my right eye. My vision isn’t exactly great in it; I think I’ll need a… shit,
do we even have the capability of making a monocle anymore? I suppose if I
could find a good prescription lens, I could break a pair of glasses in half
and do it that way. On the bright side, if I hold the paper close, I can write,
so I still have this.
I’m not sure I have
anything else.
Still flabbergasted
that they came for me. I understand it, but I don’t. Rationally, they needed to
know if I had broken, what I had told. I’m certain they were moving and
shifting things anyway, planning from the moment I was captured. The only smart
thing to do. Stupid not to.
The good news, to
them, is that I gave up nothing. They believe I didn’t crack, didn’t break
under the torture.
A lie.
On the second day,
when they took two of the toes from my right foot, my mind… I suppose I can
best describe it as a schism. I faded out. Steve was away from the phone,
please leave a message. Even now, it comes to me in bits and pieces, but what I
do know is this: Nadine was there.
“But Steve” you say,
“she’s dead. Not possible.” Trust me when I say that I realize that. But as
they started snipping away at my feet, I felt my brain leave my body and I saw
Nadine standing there next to me. She looked good, like the Nadine I met all
those years ago. In fact, I think she was wearing the same dress she wore on
our first date. We went to a Mongolian barbecue joint, a tiny little spot in a
dying strip mall in east Mesa.
She got tofu, I got steak. Tasted amazing. After that we went to a small local
theatre and saw a performance of Much Ado
About Nothing. It was one of the greatest- and most important- nights of my
life. Anyway, there she was, smiling at me like she hadn’t seen me in years.
We talked. She asked
me about Yumiko and told me she was happy for me. I asked her if she missed
being alive, and she said no. I could hear the regret in her voice when she
said it. Then she said that she only missed me, which was nice, yet also kind
of sad. As we were talking, she cut herself off and said she had to go, like it
was a real hurry. As she did, I snapped out of it, noticing then that the
Omegan doctors were sewing up my foot. Seeing it, I cried.
Overwhelmed with
missing Nadine, I cried more.
Logically, I realize
that I manifested Nadine as a coping mechanism for the pain and agony coursing
through my body. I continued to do so during the duration of my “stay” with our
enemy. As far as this sort of thing goes, I’m rather impressed with my brain
for working this one out. Appreciative, even. Whenever I snapped out of it, and
the agony started setting in, it was all I could do not to whimper and beg.
Never did, though. For whatever reason, I held on the idea that I would see her
again when they started up, and I realized that I missed her so much that I…
looked forward to it.
Obviously, I don’t
think I’ll be sharing this with Yumiko. Maybe she would understand, maybe she
wouldn’t. It isn’t important for me to find out. What is important is that she
fought for the idea of rescuing me, and that she is alive and loves me right
here and right now. I’m not going to throw that away for a mirage.
But… there is a part
of me that wonders why I didn’t manifest Yumiko. What that means about my
feelings for her.
Fuck, I’m a mess.
Thinking about this kind of stuff instead of the fact that we’re currently
being occupied by a military force of big purple bastards. Or maybe this is a
good sign, that I am thinking about something normal in the face of all this
insane shit happening to our world.
Fuck, I’m a mess.
Anyway, once I am
feeling up to getting around and moving, I have been asked to report to the
design group. I’ve spent more time inside Omegan vessels than any other living
human, and they want to pick my brain about the things I’ve seen. Apparently
there is a movement to design a ship of our own to meet the Omegans in the air,
taking them on ship-to-ship. Whatever they come up with, it’ll probably take
years to get it going. Better get started now, I suppose.
Nurse just came in and
left a sleeping pill for me. Guess the word is getting around that I have been
avoiding sleep since I got back. There’s truth in that, I know. I… shit.
There’s a part of me that is terrified that I dreamt the rescue. That I have
replaced Nadine with this scenario. That I look down at my six remaining toes
and eight fingers, using my one good eye, and I fade out into imagination land.
What happens if I go to sleep and I am right back there on that ship? Maybe
that’s what will push me over that final edge.
No. No sleep until I
am sure.
Yet how bad could
death really be? Would it be better than this “life” on Earth?
Fuck, I’m a mess. A
rambling, barely coherent mess. Can’t survive like this, that’s for sure. Maybe
I’ll take the damn pill and just let things play out. Ugh.
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