Tick Tock [short story]

to [e]xist

Monday, July 15th, XXXX ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀15:32

United States of America

NXX XXXX

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There’s a girl called “Lucy”. No. “Lucy” is a woman. But she’s not a real one, nor is she alive. She’s an adult female hominid, and was alive 3.5 million years ago, and was nicknamed after the song “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.” 

I’m not going to bore you with the details. This isn’t a history textbook, after all. This is supposed to be a report. About why I turned out this way, and how I descended into madness. 

But what I’m trying to say is, “Lucy” was important. She was found by an American anthropologist in 1974, and she had left footprints somewhere in East Africa, and they showed that she had stopped while walking, turned towards the left, maybe to look at something, then continued walking to the north. That action didn’t only make history. It transcended time.

I wanted to be a “Lucy.” I wanted to be important. So what, you say? Doesn’t everyone?

Yes. Yes and no. Most people just want to be important to the “right” people. But the people they’re trying to please are, in reality, not worth it. They’re shallow and can’t see far enough into the future to see that their actions today are going to make them laughingstocks ten years from now.

I wanted to be important to the world. 

And this where people think I’m mad, because it’s not possible. How can you be important to every single person in the world? You’d have to be a god for that. 

But that’s not what I want. I’m not looking to take the world by storm. I don’t want a book written about me. I don’t want to be someone powerful. I just want - let me be frank. I don’t know what I want.

There’s something restless about me. There’s a hole in my heart, in me, and I don’t know who or what wrenched it out. It’s as if…I lead a past life, and there was something so traumatic that happened to me that it was passed on to me in this life.