Across the Bridge

Chapter 1

Across the Bridge

  Jonathan Culber lives in a beautiful city called 'Doalb'. Although, that beautiful city isn't known to outsiders, the people that lived there were very comfortable and grateful for the lack of big crowds. But in a remote part of the city, there was a large old bridge. That bridge appeared in the old tales that the people of Doalb told each other.

Those tales told the story of a bridge that crossed between two worlds. The world of the living and the world of the dead.

An old and ancient bridge that no one knew really existed. They just believed that it was just a bedtime story for the children. 

But adults always tend to disguise important things as meaningless things. But unlike them, children and the elderly have a more common sense of reality. So who should we pay more attention to?

Sometimes crazy things make more sense than normal things. 

Unfortunately, Jonathan Culber belonged to the adults who believed in nothing. He saw children and the elderly as beings without common sense.  He is a hard-working and lonely man. He had no wife and no children, but at the age of 29, he didn't care much about it. 

His life was a bit boring. In the morning, he went to work and in the afternoon he returned home, had breakfast on time and had dinner at 7 o'clock, without fail. He had a strict routine and had no plans to interrupt it. Sometimes, he went for a run or to ride his bike. He never played sports, but he loved watch  the TV on Sundays, when the game was on. That was the only thing different in his routine. 

  Until one day. 

 He remembered very clearly that day, now that he was thinking about it.

The day that ruined everything normal in his life. 

 It was a sunny Wednesday. It was very strange because it had rained two days before, constantly. He went to his work, as always. He sat in his chair and read some documents, then at 12 o'clock he had lunch. Then, he continued with his routine. As always, he goes home at half past five and arrives at his house at six o'clock. His work wasn't too far away from his house, but he loved walking back home. 

On his way back home, he passed by the park where some children were playing with a football ball. One of them kicked it very strongly and the ball flew away, disappearing behind a dark alley.

Another thing that stands out about Jonathan, was his kindness. So he calmed down the children, and with a smile he went in search of the lost ball.  

He looked at the ball for hours. His feet had walked a lot, and his shoe was pressing his feet so tight that it hurt badly. But, with his expression full of pain, he continued with his mission: Find the lost ball.

And he found it. And that was the beginning of everything.

Now, he wishes that he had never found that stupid ball.  

When he saw it, like a child, he ran to it. Jonathan grabbed that ball with an excited smile, but when his eyes met what he had in front of him, that smile faded away little by little.

In front of him was a floor of wood, it was like the beginning of a broken bridge. The floor was old and green, and with curiosity, he put one of his feet on the first floor of wood of that bridge. 

He regretted it immediately.

A rare sensation traveled from the fingers of his toe to the hair of his head. It was like a weak electric discharge. He took a step back, still with that ball in his hands. His brown eyes were on that bridge, where the mist was all over the other side of the bridge. Then, he started to notice something. The mist was showing something.