Why Me? [ONC 2021]

12. The Glitch

"What is going on?" I said. I stumbled to my feet as I backed away, snatching the offered towel from Samar. In his other hand was broken pieces of beer bottle.

"Dude? It's me. Samar," he said.

"I don't know who you are anymore. What the hell have you done to me?" I said. Immediately I realised I was talking fast, I was scared, and I couldn't remember where I was for a moment.

"Nothing!" said Samar. He looked genuinely hurt by my accusation.

I pressed the towel to my head while I tried to hide my embarrassment. After a moment I looked at the towel to see how bad the damage was. A small amount of blood was soaked into the towel, the cut was thankfully not as bad as I thought it would be. However, the pain in my head was intense.

"No idea how you did it, man but you fell asleep on your bottle and it cracked, broke and you were cut by the pieces," said Samar.

I looked down at the chair and floor around. There was blood on the floor, and on shards of green glass scattered about. With my free hand I felt around my ear and the back of my head. Thankfully I could find no more cuts.

"I, I'm sorry," I said. "I must have been dreaming. What about I could not tell you. It was weird. More of a nightmare really."

Some images were bright and vivid in my mind, seeing my mother again, going to the museum, Not-Samar laughing. Others though were fading like a bad dream should. Still clutching the towel to my ear, I went to the bathroom to clean up.

"Hey, I've got to log on soon, but I'll make us some coffee," said Samar through the bathroom door.

"Okay," I said. The water from the tap started to wash the blood out of the towel. Steam billowed as fast flowing water heated up; my mind started to wander as images from the last day and my nightmare started to come back.

I left the tap running and stared into the mirror over the sink. The steam slowly started to fog the mirror while I studied my face. It was not a face I recognised any longer. I looked so tired, stubble shadowed my chin, and my hair was a mess. The deep bags under my eyes said I needed more sleep. As did the dark rings around my eyes.

With there being no window in here, the only light was the fluorescent tube above my head. The buzzing from the light caught my attention and I looked at that through the mirror instead, I couldn't look at myself any longer.

The light flickered and the room reflected in the mirror had changed. Instead of the powder blue painted walls, as were in most rooms of Samar's apartment, they were now a brilliant white. To my right, next to the sink, was an open, frosted-glass window. Outside the window I heard birds chirping. It sounded like there was no rain too.

I looked back at the mirror, almost fully fogged up by now. I swiped my hand over the glass to clear some of the fogging and the light flickered again.

I was back in the blue-walled bathroom of Samar's apartment. The towel in the sink had clogged up the drain and water was starting to spill over the top. The hot water burned my thumb as I held onto the sink.

Quickly, I pulled the towel aside and turned off the tap. Water gurgled down the drain. I found a dry towel and cleaned up the water from the floor. In the cabinet under the sink I found some gauze, tape, and some scissors. Using these, I taped up the cut on my ear.

Pinching my nose, I tried to push down another headache. The buzz of the light was not helping that endeavour.

It was time to go home and find out what the autocops had found about my apartment and the break-in. I ran my hand through my hair to straighten it out, adding some water to help with the process. It wasn't a good look, but it would do.

"Hey Samar, I think I'm going to go home," I said as I opened the bathroom door.

The view outside the room was wrong. Again the walls were a brilliant white. It wasn't Samar's apartment, this was the museum. I closed and opened the door, to check I want going mad. The walls were not blue, or white. Instead, it was now my childhood home, which was three doors down from Samar's in this building. Again a shot of pain hit my temple from this headache, making me shake my head.

When I opened my eyes Samar was stood before me holding a cup of coffee for me. It smelled great. Thankfully, I was back in Samar's apartment again. The look on my face obviously caused concern in my friend.

"What up?" asked Samar.

"Nothing," I lied. "Trying to clear this headache. Had it for a while now."

"Drink up, you look like you need a shot of 'wake-me-up'. This'll get you going. Might not help you head though." He then passed me the cup.

"Yeah. Probably." I took a big gulp of the hot brew. It was nearly too hot, but I didn't spit it back out.

The coffee was like a jolt of electricity to my brain. The headache wasn't helped, as predicted, but at least I was awake now.

"Got to see how my apartment looks," I said.

"You heard from the autocops?"

"Not yet, but I'll call them on my way over. If I can't get in I'm on the way to work too, I'll just get the next bus if I can't go home yet."

"You're going to work looking like that?" he scoffed. "You'll scare the pants off everyone. You look homeless. You don't want to get mistaken for a 'burned', do you?"

I shook my head. That was a mistake. Pain burst into colours before my eyes. Images of Dead Guy resurfaced, and I had to grip the door frame to stop me from collapsing.

"And," he continued, "you look like you need something for your head."

"I'll be fine. Let me get outside and maybe fresh air will help clear these cobwebs," I gently tapped my head when I spoke.

Samar shrugged. "Cool. But here," he walked over to the door,  grabbed his coat, and came back to me. "It's raining hard out there so you'll need the extra protection."

The coat looked like a top of the line one and looked like it cost a lot of money.

I looked at Samar and was about to question where he got it from, when he spoke again.

"Yes, it is expensive. However, it will keep you dry for quite a while," he said.

"Thanks, I'll get it back to you," I said.

"I know where you live," he smiled.

I put the coat on and went into the living room to get my bag. Samar's computer was chiming. "Someone is calling you," I said.

"Ah, crap! The meeting started ten minutes ago. Gotta get into it. Call me later," he said as he ran to his chair.

I smiled and watched him scramble about, sitting down, waking his computer up, and logging into the call. The frantic pace was immediately replaced by a cool and calm demeanor as he answered the call.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I headed to the door.