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Balance - Book 2

Page 69

by Marc Dickason

EPILOGUE

  The cute girl with the brown hair woke me up. I liked her. She seemed sweet and happy. Always smiling, always talking. She often spoke to me and I liked it. Sometimes it wasn’t her. But I always preferred it when it was. When she fed me with the spoon, I did my best not to mess. Because that made her angry, and I didn’t like it when she scolded me.

  “We don’t mess our porridge, Jet,” she would say. And the look in her eyes made me feel silly and small.

  After breakfast, she led me out into the common area. Here there were always lots of other people. I didn’t know them. Though I sometimes thought many had spoken to me. But I could never remember who, or what they might have said.

  I liked the common area. It was sunny. The brown haired girl sometimes put me by the window and I liked to look out at the little tree. Sometimes she put me by a fish tank, which I also liked. But today it was by the television, which I liked the least. Because I didn’t understand.

  “You should watch this,” the brown haired girl said, “It’s important. It’s a very exciting time.”

  A man was talking. I thought I might have seen that man before.

  “Today I say to you that I have heard your voices,” he said, “I have heard your voices and I have understood. I have looked in the mirror and recognised that I am you.” There was the sound of cheering. “And together we have stood tall and we have been heard.” More cheers. He held up a booklet of papers. “In here is a draft for a new set of magic laws! Laws that change the way we live! Laws that do not shackle us, laws that do not hinder us, laws that release us and allow us to live in society as equals!” The cheers were deafening. “And it is going to be the new law today!”

  Some time later, the brown haired woman came and gave me a plastic cup and water. I swallowed the two little stones, drank the water, and continued to look at the television. Then it was more food. Soup normally, sometimes potato salad. Eggs, sometimes peas, sometimes tomatoes.

  And then I was returned to my room where I lay on my bed. If I was not asleep after a while a lady would come and put the needle in my arm. Either way, I slept.

  The days were all the same. I did not know when one had finished and another had begun. But I stopped trying to know. And stopped caring.

  It went on, and on…

  Sometimes people came to talk to me. Once or twice, the blonde haired girl. She was angry and shouted at me. The brown haired girl always asked her to leave.

  The balding man once, beside him a tall man with broad shoulders and a woman with short blonde hair. The woman was sad and stroked my cheek.

  “Poor boy”’ she said.

  “Why? Why would he refuse Rehabilitation?” the balding man said.

  “He was protecting someone,” the blonde woman said. She turned to me. “Is that what it was? Are you protecting someone, Jet?”

  “The city is being torn apart,” the broad shouldered man said, “Christ, we need you, you son of a bitch. We need you.”

  “The counter-spell?”

  “Still more time. My God that damn Crowd Surfing Spell is an enigma. And in the meantime the city is burning.”

  A large man came in once. His cheeks were rosy and face bright. He looked at me sadly, shaking his head. “Are you happy, Clarence,” he asked, “Are you happy with what you visualised? With what you imprinted onto the world? Was it the right choice?”

  A gorgeous woman with black hair also came in once, while I was looking out the window. She crouched down beside me, eyes sad. She talked and I looked at her beautiful face. She cried, and smiled.

  And the days went on….

  Sometimes the brown haired girl shaved me which I liked. The razor tickled my skin.

  I noticed that the tree I liked to look at sometimes had bright red fruit on it. They looked delicious. I wished I could taste one. I never did.

  The fish tank got new fish. Bright ones. I liked them.

  The days went on.

  I dreamt about a file sometimes, in a building called Global Net. My name was upon its cardboard folder. I wanted to open it, but couldn’t. When finally I did, there were words and faces inside. I tried to read the words but they were glowing, white hot. And burned my eyes.

  The television showed a scene of horrible destruction - torn buildings and blue uniformed men fighting. There was an explosion and a woman screamed. The brown haired girl gaped at the scene.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, “how can this be happening…?”

  The days went on and on…

  The tree was no longer little. The brown haired girl left and was replaced by another. I forgot the brown haired girl. The fish died. New ones were added. My body became soft and useless. I never used it.

  The days went on and on…

  Then, one day, I was sitting and looking out the window. And when I glanced up, a man was walking towards me. He wore a bright blue uniform with medals that jingled on his breast. He smiled at me, a great big broad smile. Then he crouched beside me and rolled a cigarette while he spoke. The new girl said he couldn’t do that, but he looked at her and she went away. A lot of what he said I didn’t understand.

  Click, click, click, click…

  “I’m sorry, Jet. I’m sorry I can’t let you rest any longer. They need you. It’s time to wake up. The war is here, you see. We cannot make a counter spell that works. The war is here and we need you on our side. We need you fighting for us. Because if you’re on our side, then who can possibly stand against us?”

  He smiled again, then took my face in his hands and gazed into my eyes. The world went white.

  Find Balance – Book 3 updates here. Balance - Book 3

  Contact the author at: marcodickason@gmail.com

  Visit the Balance - Website to learn more about the world of Balance, its characters and its author.

  The Balance series is the work of one independent author over many hundreds of hours. If you liked this book please consider supporting the author. Giving a star rating and brief review, at the website where it was purchased, helps give the author exposure.

 


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