<Journal entry 2>

<Beginning audio…>

<Transcribing…>

<April 6, 2011>

 

I've had several dreams that played out over the course of a month. It was about a girl who had everything. A princess in a thriving kingdom. She had a loving family with a brother who supported her in anything she did. Her long time boyfriend proposed to her and there was peace in the realm. She was happy and life was good. 

That good life soon ended. Her fiance was ordered to go to war at the best of the king. The supporting brother became distant and constantly argued with her. The kingdom she loved now in shambles as the realm fell to the acts of war. 

She fell victim to her thoughts and depression took her. She lashed out at her family and friends, putting distance between everyone she loved. Her misguided hate led her to making a choice that would change her life forever. 

The girl left the kingdom on a search for herself. She met several companions on the way, who would help her through her self destruction. The girl still hurt, a piece of her heart missing that will never fill.  She was offered a potion that would heal her sorrow and make her better. She accepted and drank the potion, only to be betrayed as she fell into a pit.

Before she hit the ground, I woke up in a cold sweat. Her emotions stayed with me for a short while after.

The night after sleeping with Paris led to a different dream. A dream that made the other ones make sense. 

The classroom doors bursted open, spilling first second graders onto the playground. The swarm of kids circled the grounds, searching for their favorite objects to play with. Groups soon formed after, and everyone had a playing partner or several.

Recess was in session for all, except for one. A seven-year-old girl in her tan capris and pink tank top with an unzipped black hoodie. Mystical eyes, like the color of the deep blue sea, gazed at the children and their fun. 

Jealousy sunk in as she had no one to play with. With her being a transfer late in the school year, her ability to make friends had been sabotaged. 

Her light brown hair swayed in the slight breeze. Light up shoes blinked with every step she takes, capturing her attention. Lights danced in pretty patterns as she giggled to herself, jumping in place. It’s the small things in life that could make you happy. 

“Watch out.” A distant voice shouted.

It was no use. The colorful lights entrenched her. Colorful lights faded to black as she laid on the ground, motionless. She woke to the swarming children watching her, laughing at the child who endured a dodgeball to the face. She cried while the kids made jokes on her behalf.

In her despair, a boy with bleach blonde hair squatted down towards her. His boyish charm shined brightly in her hour of need. Hand stretched out, he waited for her to grab on. She, of course, accepted his offer and stood side by side while the rest of the kids lost interest. 

The boy wiped the tears from her face, comforting her. The least he could do for such a precious girl. 

“Sorry, mate. It kind of got away from me.” said the boy.

The blonde child wore a full grin like a badge of honor. He held the dodgeball tight with one arm, not daring to let go. The girl studied the strange boy, not sure what to think of him. ‘Maybe he could be a friend,’ she thought.

“It’s okay. My fault, really.” 

She wore her shyness like a weapon. Her mother once said, “Some boys like shy girls, use it to your advantage.” She never understood what she meant until today.

“Name’s Connor Hamada. Nice to meet cha miss…” He trailed off, fishing for her name.

The little girl giggled, twirling her foot.

“Stollie. Nichole Stollie.”

She looked up from the ground to see the boy in front of her shifting between him and a girl she did not recognize. Sound around her muted as the scenery went still. 

“Nick, it’s time to wake up,” said Connor.

The boy spoke, but with a voice she’s never heard before. His eyes shifted between soft baby blue and teal.

“Paris?”  

Her jaw moved on its own. She was speaking, but different from her own, deeper like a man’s. 

Nichole took a step back from Connor. The boy stood frozen like a picture. Slightly simmering, glitching between the girl she didn’t know and the boy she just met. 

Wavy lines blinked in and out, showing a familiar yet strange arm. Two streams of memories seeping into each other, fighting for control. Memories flooded back to her, or rather me, as the sky blackened and the world fell apart. Slow at first, but gradually the ground shattered like glass and sucked me in a hidden vortex. 

That’s when I broke free. I found myself falling like the girl in my previous dream. As I fell, I thought about the children on the playground, how that was remarkably similar to how I first met Paris. A stray ball knocked me out in the playground and she was there when I woke up. I remember all the children laughing at me, but she stood by my side regardless of what the children called her. It’s a memory I’ve forgotten, locked away in a vault. 

My life up to this point played before me as I fell, but then my reality fell apart. It mixed what I knew about the world with things I didn’t know, but in time, I would come to understand. I remembered world events, but I also remember new ones that I’m sure never happened. The movies played out memories I knew weren’t mine. 

I kept falling, with no end in sight. I don’t know how long I fell, but I eventually stopped. Not with a thud or a splat. I just stopped. There was no visible ground, and I floated in this space I found myself in.

My heart beat faster and faster as the paranoia settled in. This couldn’t be right. Where was I? If this was a dream, I was lucid. I tried to wake myself up from pinching to full on punching myself in the face. I would not recommend that part.

Not a single light illuminated in the void. Pure black nothingness. I searched for anything, anyone. Hours? Days? I didn’t know anymore. I yelled in my exhausted state. It was the only thing I could do to let out my frustrations. 

Then a white light flashed across my vision. I brought my hand up to cover my eyes while they adjusted to the change in brightness. 

A white ball of mist floated in front of me. It gave off a bright glow that lit what I couldn’t see, or maybe it was showing me things I needed to see. 

“Hello?” I asked.

My curiosity had the better of me. I waved my hand through the mist with no regard for my safety. The cool touch of air wrapped around my hand like a wet blanket. It hovered for a short while, then dissipated. The room darkened before lighting up again as it reformed a few feet away from me.

I called out again. This time, I received an answer.

“Eli?” It asked.

It spoke in a soft feminine voice. Pulsing with each pronunciation. I wondered whether I should follow it. 

“This is the weirdest dream.” I muttered under my breath.

I stayed with the floating ball rather than be left in the dark. It continued traveling in its current direction, illuminating objects from my past, but it also illuminated ones I wasn’t familiar with.

It was strange. These things I was seeing, they looked like modern technology but were twisted in a way that it could be something new. Phones that could project the caller like a hologram or a vehicle that floated instead of rolled. 

I froze as I watched the mist change shape. It was beautiful, almost hypnotizing. The ball shifted into different shapes and sizes and eventually landed in a vaguely humanoid shape. Bright light surrounding the new form dimmed. Into the dark, we both went. 

A snap echoed through the darkness.

An overhead light appeared, and the shadows faded into a living room. My living room. At least I thought it was, but furniture had different shades of color and the pictures on the wall were different. There stood a young girl, naked, in the middle of the room. My eyes widened, not sure what to say or do.

“Don’t be afraid.” she said.

She seemed unfazed for a woman standing in a room naked with a man. I wasn’t afraid, far from it. I was more curious why this girl materialized in front of me.

This girl spoke with a distinct accent. I’ve always enjoyed a girl with an accent. Pairs has a slight accent. She denies it, but I know it’s there.

I wanted to ask this girl so many questions, yet I uttered out the most obvious.

“You’re naked,” I said. 

“Bloody hell! This is so embarrassing. Hold on a tic.”

The girl turned around and muttered to herself. Clothes gradually materialized on her in the same white misty substance she appeared in. A gray sweatshirt and sweatpants engulfed the person standing in front of me. She looked herself over twice, to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything again.

The girl smiled at me as she sat down on her legs as they bowed out.

“You’re cuter in person. My brother was right; you look more like him.”

She studied me with her eyes. I could feel her looking over every inch of me. This was incredibly awkward. 

“Strange how one small action can lead to multiple paths to different outcomes. You were an only child which led to your parents naming you…”

I held a finger to her lips. Her eyes widened in response.

“Blimey! There I go trailing off again.” she cleared her throat before she continued. “My name is Nichole Stollie. I’m you, essentially, from a parallel universe.”

Nick Cole. Nichole. The universe is a jester and I’m its King. Then again, she was saying certain actions lead to the potential of many universes and in that case… I am the fool.

I let out a sigh of exhaustion. This dream was making no sense. ‘I conjured a cute British girl in front of me and then I turned around and made her me. What kind of sick, twisted thoughts am I having?’ I thought to myself.

“We were afraid this might happen. My brother coined the phrase ‘culture shock’ to describe what you are feeling. When you go from one universe to the next, you brain can’t handle the extra information.”

Culture shock was the least of my worries and I understand how I might have looked. I couldn’t care less about parallel universes. To wake up is what I wanted. I wanted to kiss Paris on the forehead and tell her good morning. Maybe even make her breakfast. I pushed these thoughts aside, and I asked the question that might lead to a key out of this dream. 

“Okay, other me. Say this is true. Say you are me from another universe. Why me, of all people?”

She lowered her head, not saying a word. I leaned in closer, trying to get a look at her face. Her facial expressions changed rapidly from concerning to angry. She looked conflicted about what she wanted to say. ‘My subconscious is going through it.’ I thought.

“Listen.”

Her eyes locked with mine. A shiver crawled down my spine as her gaze looked through me. Her lovely smile dropped and her eyes full of life grazed over. She closed her eyes for a second to compose herself before continuing.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. And I’m truly sorry for what we did.”

“What wasn’t supposed to happen?” I asked.

I was worried about what I was about to tell myself. This felt like some life-changing moment that could lead me to unlocking an inner perspective about myself. A moment of silence fell between the two of us. I bounced my leg, waiting for her to continue. 

“One of our operatives on your side got spooked by something. They activated their ring for an extraction. The machine we used to travel between worlds expected a certain DNA sequence and when it extracted you… well, it didn’t know how to handle the information. It shut down mid transfer.”

This was no inner perspective. This felt real. I was still skeptical about the whole idea of parallel world travel. It was hard to keep denying the possibility of all this. I remember the strange man the night of my birthday. He gave me his ring and told me he was compromised. Still intoxicated, I slipped the ring on my finger, thinking nothing of it. I should have never put the ring on.

“I don’t feel dead.” I said.

Nichole averted her eyes and sighed heavily.

“Without getting into too much detail, the first version of the machine was deemed inhumane by our government. We did it twice, and it caused some unforeseen consequences. The subjects were never the same after.”

She was being very forthcoming with her information, which I liked. Although I could tell she was clearly still hiding something. The dots were there and easy enough to connect, but I wanted to hear her side of the story first.

“Before we shut the project down, the government wanted to send me over to your side. It connected to you, but it failed to send me.”

“Who was he?” I asked. “The man who gave me the ring.” 

She gasped at my question. Her head hung low, and she held back her tears, but her will wasn’t strong enough for the flood gates I opened.

“He was a good friend of mine.” She trailed off. Tears rolled down her cheek. “Sorry. That’s not entirely accurate. He was more than a friend. Conrad Hamada was my fiance.”

I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. There was no way.

“Conrad is dead. He died as a child because of health problems.”  

“In your world, yes. In my world, he grew up and had a normal childhood. I first met Conrad…”  

“In preschool.” We both said in unison.

She blinked at me. I could see the confusion on her face.

“I see. We share a core memory. That explains why we are compatible.” she said.

Nichole explained how she met Conrad, and it put things into perspective for me. The choices I’ve made to become this person and the thought of Paris growing up with a brother, it… I can’t lie, it scared me. 

I retold my side of the story and about how I met Paris and what my life was like with her. We sat and talked for hours about how our lives were so similar and how we chose different outcomes to situations. I was genuinely having a good time, but something in the back of my head put a stop to it all.

“Why am I here?” I asked.

Nichole stopped mid laugh, and the silence returned. I watched the tears stream down her face. She fiddled with her hands, not sure how to continue.

“I was hoping this would last a little longer before I had to break the news.” She stood up and paced back and forth. “This world that we find ourselves in is the in-between. My memories and your memories are one. When the machine turned off mid transfer, you were stuck here, along with me.”

I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. All the memories I didn’t recognize while falling were hers. ‘If I saw her’s, did she mine?’ I asked myself. The weight of the situation hit me all at once, and my composure broke. I was pissed, but I didn’t want to show it.

“You know how to fix it, right?” I asked her.

“Yes, but...”

“Good.”

I cut her off. I didn’t want to hear any more excuses. She messed up and caused me to be stuck in this In-between. I could have cared less at the time. I just wanted to go home, wake up in my bed with my girlfriend. I should have listened to her and her warning.

“When we…” 

“I don’t care, Nichole.”

“Right. Cheers.”

She smiled and gave a bow in my direction. A bright light flashed before us, and I felt lighter. I could feel myself falling again. I held my eyes tight as I tried to endure the feeling. A warmth crawled over my skin and I felt lightheaded. I fell faster and the intensity finally wore me down. I saw my vision slowly blacken as I gave into passing out.