Blink Once, Blink Twice, I'm Gone

Vietnam War, 1962

This chapter and some of the ones in the mere future are not for the weak stomached and the faint of heart. Violence plays a huge part. I hope you like this story even though it is very violent and in someways disturbing but it comes from my messed up mind and needs to come out somehow. Hope you like it.

“Adi?” His voice intrudes my sleep. Open eyes. He smiles. I smile. He grabs my hand. I sit up.

                “Where do you think we will go?” I ask in a whisper. My voice still hurts from the past days and nights.

                “I don’t know but we will never see if we never try.” He replies.

                “We don’t live unless we welcome death.” I counter.

                “And we will never meet death,”

                “Unless we live and try.” I finish our favorite saying. We had heard it in a book before but we never remembered the book name. I begin to giggle. It was a poem but it was picked apart and put in a story. We loved it ever since we read it. I blink, nothing.

                “What’s wrong?” Alex reads my face. I don’t say anything. “Adi, what is wrong?” He grabs my shoulders. I blink again. Nothing. She lets go. “You didn’t travel did you?” I shake my head. We sit in silence. Alex finally breaks the silence by grabbing my hand. “Now try.” We both blink. Blink.

                Music plays. People dance. People sing. Colours blend. Twist and turn. Blink, nothing. The crowd holds up two fingers. Peace. I can’t see above me. Alex sways to the music. Everything reminds me of hippies. My hair is down with a tie dye pattern on it. My clothes have the same color scheme. Tie dye everywhere. It’s too loose and colorful for me. I pull Alex to the back of the crowd.

                “Where are we?” I ask.

                “You know, the sixties man.” He says. I slap him. He looks at me but looks like he will make a joke about it.

                “Let’s go.” I begin to drag him out of the concert. He stays glued to his spot. “Alex, I mean it. I want to leave.”

                “But it’s the Beatles. You will never get the chance to see this thing again.” He whines. I come back to his side and watch the show. A group of four people, the Beatles, sing and move all around the stage. I think of what their music means, world peace. End of war. Love. If only I could escape the world through music. Not travel in time with blinks. Blink. Nothing.

                After what felt an hour, the show ended. I was ready to go. People still scream and people still sing. No music plays. People leave. I grab Alex’s hand and drag him with the weak current of the crowd. He was a huge smile on his face.

                “I can’t believe you are such a hippy.” I tease. He wears round glasses with pink and orange tinted lenses. His black hair is pulled into a pony tail with a bandana like mine around his forehead.

                “My dad grew up on the Beatles. I,” He points to himself with pride and self- indulgence, “was forced to listen to them. And they aren’t half bad. 30 Seconds to Mars is still way better though.” I giggle. We reach a street. People flood. My hand stays entwined with Alex’s. I smile. People laugh and cheer.

                The sun begins to set. I find a park close by and a tree to climb. I begin to climb and Alex follows. When we get to the near top, we lean on the trunk, sitting on branches next to each other. My legs dangle over, floating in nothingness. I smile. Blink, nothing.