Death To Reality

Returns

John Steel wasn't a wealthy man. There was no need for money in his life. He wasn't exactly the cleanest of people you could meet but he still had family, friends and followers. Steel always wore the same clothes. Never changed. He had no need to alter his outerwear. It was still a pale grey tweed effect jacket, a torn and slightly stained tie - bought as white but now nearing yellow. A sky blue shirt was tucked away behind his jacket. This also had holes and extremely creased. To finish is outfit there was a pair of faded black jeans which now look more grey than black and a pair of glossy black shoes. He always prided himself on his shoes. It was always the thing he thought people would judge you on. But he didn't care for other's opinions.

John stood from his seated position in one fluid movement. He had been complaining of back pain all day to his secretary and this was his only refuge from it. As he raised himself from his dark leather desk chair, he stared in wonder out of the window. 

Large glass panes surrounded his office. Top floor views are what he always wanted and he achieved it. He had always dreamt of it as a child and he knew one day he would gain it. As he glared out of the surrounding windows he thought back to life before all of this. Before his big-business managerial job. Thoughts tried to enter his mind but they couldn't get in. He couldn't remember anything. His childhood, his adolescence, his early adulthood weren't there anymore. It was as if they had left him a long time ago.

Steel strolled over to the left corner and carried on staring outwards. He looked down on the city, the city that he loved. The city of skyscrapers and metal roads, of content civilians and clean air. It was once dubbed the 'City of Dreams'. There was something about this city that made him happy, a part that he knew loved him back. Again, it was something he dreamt of. John gave up pondering and headed for the door at the back of his office. 

Walking toward the door, he stopped. Just stood there. He didn't know why but he just couldn't resist standing there, taking in the silence. A deep inhalation was followed by an almost immediate deep exhalation. Steel knew he was ready. Ready to return.

 ----------------

Hazily, James opened his tired eyes. They were dry and sore. He found it extremely difficult to stay focused on one thing due to the lack of moisture in his eyes. James' eyes kept wandering, from one thing to the next.

After blinking several times, James was able to return an acceptable amount of moisture to his eyes. He was able to take note of his surroundings. 

It seemed to him that he was in a small, wooden lodge with a little fire providing heat to the room. Floors were covered with woven cotton carpets of varying patterns. One had diamonds in a three-dimensional pattern whereas another had just red and white chequers covering it. James was slumped on a brown silk sofa standing in the middle of the room. It seemed to be the major feature of the cabin. There were windows on the walls and it appeared to be nighttime outside. The room was very well lit, spotlights colonised the ceiling and there were tall lamps standing to attention in the corners. Infront of the sofa where James lay there was a miniature mahogany coffee table. Placed on the table there was a Dream Cube Clock, black. The time read 94:87.

Raising himself from his slumped position, James noticed something strange. It wasn't the time that the clock displayed, it wasn't that there was a complete absence of sound in the room but it was that there was daylight coming from the window panes even though it was pitch black outside.  Rays of light still penetrated the glass yet there was no known light source.

James slowly wandered towards this mystery window. As he took one step after the other he realised that there was a sound trying to encroach on the room. Then, suddenly a screen appeared on the mirroring wall. It was large and looked similar to a television. On it held a woman.

"James Watson!", the woman spoke in a serious tone, "born 5th June 1989. Son of Mary and Timothy Watson", it continued.

"Y-yeah, that's m-me," James was in utter shock at the woman in front of him and how she knew so much about him, "w-why did you say that?"

"Don't you remember me, James?", the woman questioned, "Not at all?"

"W-why would I? I have never seen you before and I can't really remember much at the minute", James told the woman.

"But I have been with you this whole time! Can't you remember a thing?"

"No, sorry ma'am but I can't remember anything at all. I can't even remember what brought me here in the first place."

"What if I told you that you wer-", she was cut off before she could've finished what she was saying.

 She had gone. She had just vanished. No sign of where she had gone. The screen that was once talking to James had disappeared and he was quickly losing memory of what had happened. 

James was stunned at what he could remember happening. It only happened several minutes ago but his mind was messing with what he could remember. Was he talking to a real woman? Did that woman actually exist or was it just one of those smart home hubs? Is this real? All he knew was that he was speaking to something and that he had just woken up in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere with no memory of how he got there.

But why was he here?