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Missed Memories

(by J. Daniel Seffens )

The sun rose with a mystic glow. The sky swirled with color. A blue mist twirled around the sun like smoke. Marty had never seen the purples and pinks of dusk bless the morning.
Marty sipped his coffee; it tasted like cappuccino. His entire body surged with energy. After drinking an entire pot of the best coffee ever produced by his two-dollar coffee maker, he dressed for work. The children had already dressed and left for school, a first at his house. No screaming to endure that morning.
Once dressed, Marty looked for his keys. They were on the counter, where he left them the night before. That was also a first. He stepped through the door of his garage into his office. He turned around, looking at the ghostly corridor behind him.
That’s strange, I don’t remember driving.
Looking through the paperwork on his desk, Marty thought someone was playing a joke on him; though, he could not figure out who would give him such strange reports. He laughed as he read a census report on the werecat population. The number had unexpectedly jumped from three to twenty-four in the past decade in the eastern United States, almost doubling the total number known to exist ten years before. Only Jonathan could have such an imagination. Marty went looking for Jonathan. He found more than he could have asked for.
Around the office, people appeared to be floating instead of walking. Marty rubbed his eyes in disbelief. In all the abnormality of their mode of transportation, the people acted as if that day were the same as any other. A few colleagues nodded to him as they passed him. He stared at them in amazement. Sandy, a woman whom he had secretly fantasized about, winked at him as she floated past. He spotted Jonathan and ran to him.
“Good morning, sir,” Jonathan placed some papers on his desk.
“Excuse me?” Marty began to feel dizzy.
“I already finished filing the report on faun blood import regulation.”
“Faun blood?”
“I know; you wanted the one on the ban on Transylvanian Fire. I’ll have it finished by the end of the day.” Jonathan glanced down at the papers in Marty’s hand. “Is that about the werecats? So, it’s true then?”
“Uh, yeah,” he turned and walked back to his own desk. He wondered when he had become the boss.
Marty could not grasp what was going on. He wanted to know if he was dreaming or crazy. He also wondered what in the hell werecats were.

* * *

Marty arrived at home in the same manner he arrived at work, stepping through the office door to his driveway. He looked around his neighborhood in dismay.
His homecoming brought more surprises to his day. His wife greeted him, along with Sandy from work. They both wore black lingerie. The kid appeared to be out. Little talk took place in their house that night.
Marty had difficulty falling asleep. He lay in bed, amazed at the events of that day. He forgot about the werecats and watched the women sleeping on either side of him. Once he concentrated on their rhythmic breathing, he finally drifted away from consciousness.

* * *

Bright light swirled about him like an eerie mist. He could not feel his body. The only feeling Marty had was a sensation of pressure around his head. Something cold and hard restricted its movement.
He thought he heard a muffled sound, like a foreign shhhh. It came at variable intervals and pitches, almost as if it were a language of its own. The more he listened, the more he realized it was some type of communication between at least three unseen beings standing around him. As he concentrated on each sound, he counted four sounds altogether. They all became quiet as something passed over Marty. The sound returned, but in unison. Slowly, the light faded.
Marty jumped out of bed covered in sweat. The lingering nightmare left him cold inside. A faint trace of perfume warmed his nose, spreading to the rest of his body. He glanced at the women on either side of him, smiling as he remembered how they got there.
Easing himself over his wife, he put his feet on the cold floor and shivered. When he turned on the bathroom light, he flinched at the light burning his eyes. After they adjusted, he prepared for his day, hoping it would not be as strange as the last.
Once again, he stepped through his garage door into his office at work. He closed his eyes and sighed before closing the door. To Marty’s surprise, everyone walked on the floor instead of floating about. He could not help but smile. Maybe his day would turn out normal after all; he might have daydreamed during his commute and forgotten the trip. The first report he read smashed his hopes of monotony. The pages confused him, just as the reports from the day before. He had no idea what Gurelain Spinster Charms were, but they did not sound good. The accompanying photograph of a headless corpse nauseated him.
He noticed that no one spoke to each other. The only sounds in the office were shuffling papers, clicking of keyboards, and the occasional squeaky chair. When Jonathan passed his desk, Marty halted him.
Jonathan nearly jumped at the sound of Marty’s voice, “Yes sir?”
“Yeah, I’m just curious. Why isn’t anyone speaking today?”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow, “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I really want to know.”
Jonathan looked around anxiously, “They’re all pretty p*ssed off, that’s why. You know, with the ban and all.”
“Yeah, the ban on charms in government buildings. How could you forget? It will take everything ten times longer to do anything. It just went into effect today.”
Marty’s mind bounced around in his head like a ping-pong ball, searching for anything that sounded familiar. He found nothing. He noticed a rise in the office’s temperature. His head felt like gravy. He loosened his tie and could finally speak, “What in the Hell is going on?”
Apparently, his voice was a little too loud because Jonathan looked around at his colleagues who stared at him and Marty. His face began to glow like a cherry, he leaned close to Marty to whisper, “Let’s go outside; I think you need some air.”
Marty let Jonathan lead him to the door, where instead of taking him to his driveway, took him to the sidewalk three stories below.
After closing the door, Jonathan looked at Marty. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting…strange.”
Marty let out a long sigh. This gave room for a deep breath to let out his frustration. “Why does the office door lead down here or to my garage? Why does everyone float around one day, then are mad about losing it the next as if they’ve done it for years? What is all this talk about charms and Transylvanian Fire? What the Hell is a werecat?” His lack of air forced him to stop and pant, as if he just finished a marathon.
Jonathan just stared at him in amazement. He blinked a few times to clear his stare. “Are you all right? I think you’re under too much stress.”
“So this stuff isn’t real? Am I crazy then?”
“I don’t know if you’re crazy or not, but that stuff is all real.”
“It is?” His senses seemed to dull as he watched Jonathan nod. “So why is it I have no idea what this is all about? Why did the world change over night?”
“It changed overnight, but twenty years ago, when they found that alien craft thirteen miles under the ice way up north.”
Marty’s jaw would have swung down to his chest if the skin had allowed it. The mention of aliens briefly took him back to the strange dream he had. He thought he heard the bizarre shhhh sounds again. “That’s not possible. Everything was normal until yesterday.”
“I can’t explain that; I have no idea why you don’t remember anything.”
“How did it change everything?”
“When they opened it, it unleashed something that changed the physics of our world. It didn’t take long for scientists to discover these changes, but it made an entirely new study of science. They call it Mystic Science.”
“You mean magic?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Anyone can use it; there was no known limit…until recently.”
“And that is…”
“Well, everyone has used this science, even children. Many good things came out of it, and many bad. The earth’s rotation began to slow. Of course, this caused problems with the moon, which created massive earthquakes, unknown-volcano eruptions, tidal waves, you name it. Therefore, now they’re trying to correct this. They’ve banned the most powerful spells and started massive regulation on the use of Mystic Science.”
Marty felt his knees turn into soggy paper; he had to sit on the pavement. “I don’t get it; how could I not know about any of this?”
“Wish I knew. It’s most likely stress. You should go home and rest. You’re the boss, so nobody can stop you.”
In a daze, Marty followed Jonathan through the doors again. He walked out of his garage by himself. Without thinking of anything else, he walked strait to his bed and collapsed.

* * *

Blue lights--four of them--circled above him. Marty tried to lift his head, but could not move. Pressure grew around his head like a turban. The lights ceased their twirling, and then disappeared. The strange sounds began.
An eerie, white glow grew about him. A blue mist seemed to play about his head. Something passed directly above him; he could not see what it was. The sounds all came in unison. His head felt heavy, but unconsciousness did not wash completely through him. He held on as if to a piece of driftwood to keep afloat.
The sound grew more intense as something passed over him again. He could not hold on; he felt like something was dragging him down into the darkness. He blinked his eyes.
When they opened, he saw his bedroom illuminated by the streetlights outside. Marty glanced at his clock; it was almost four a.m. Besides him, his bed sat empty. He checked the kids’ bedrooms, also empty. As far a he could tell, Marty was alone.
He walked downstairs. When he reached the bottom, he saw unexpected visitors. Jonathan, Sandy, and his wife stood together, wearing all black. They stared at him.
“What are you all doing down here?” Marty tried to mask the anxiety of their presence that unnerved him for unknown reasons.
In unison, they spoke, “Why do you wake?”
A chill passed through him. Were they trying to kill him?
“We do not wish your death.” The voices mingled into a deep singular voice of compassion, yet had a menacing undertone.
Marty’s mind began to bounce around again. Could they read his mind? Why did they speak in that manner?
“We are not what you think. We can only communicate with you this way, so we chose faces that are familiar to you.”
Familiar faces, what were they talking about? Marty wanted to know who they were, but before he could ask, they answered.
“We chose you in order to study your species. You are unlike us in almost every way. You exist between the lower and upper planes; this fascinates us. Since we are unable to study those in the lower plane, you serve us with many opportunities.”
He could not comprehend what opportunities they could mean. The mention of planes confused him even more.
“Do not try to think too much on what we say. It will take much time for you to understand, and you will not remember any of this. We must know why you awake from this state. This has never occurred with any species we have studied. None have ever been aware of anything out of the ordinary.”
Ordinary. Marty could not remember anything in the past few days that was ordinary.
“Curious. What is so unordinary about the reality we have created? We structured it from your memories, so it should feel real to you.”
Memories? He could not think of any memories to connect to the reality they threw him into. The people he knew were the only familiar strands of the web in which he was trapped.
He thought about the events he experienced, and then realized it was all his fantasies. Everything from the past few days has come from one fantasy or another, mostly from his childhood.
“Interesting species, you are. We have never encountered anything with the ability to create an alternate reality in their minds. We now see our error. You can now sleep while we continue.”
“Wait!” Marty had to stop them. “Will I go home?”
“No, you will remain here until you pass to the upper plane. Until then, sleep.”
They raised their hands in unison and began the strange noise he heard from his dreams. Everything began to spin. He sat on the steps as blackness overtook him.

* * *

Marty sat up in bed. He felt as if he just awoke from a terrible nightmare, but it was beyond his grasp. He looked at his wife next to him, still asleep. He watched the cover rise and fall. Marty smiled and leaned over to kiss her gently.
Abandoning the idea of attempting to recall the unknown nightmare, he put his arm over her. Before passing into slumber again, he thought about how lucky he was to have such a wonderful life.

story Information

Upload Date: 31/12/1969

Downloads: 1166

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