Too Broke For Afterlife - Chapter 132
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The water flows quietly and I’m sitting on the ground, trying to calm myself down.
In my head my thoughts are spiraling and I can’t stop thinking of Walter and Clemens, wondering what they are doing right now and if they are even still…you know…alive.
With the knees pulled up to my chest, I stare at the door they had walked through just a few minutes ago. Silently I’m praying that it will just open and let my friends step through. But it’s staying closed.
When is it my turn? Is there really no other option?
A familiar breeze glides over my arms, stroking the skin and I’m preparing myself for the following message we are about to receive.
“Come on,” I hear Isa say softly and she offers a hand to help me get up.
I do so but continue to stare at the door. That stupid door.
The tree hums as the leaves rustle and shortly after, the voice is back.
“Strangers. It is time for your second challenge. Two of you will have to compete. Cast a vote and decide.”
2 of us. But 3 are left. That means whoever isn’t chosen now will have to conquer the third challenge on their own.
I don’t want that to be me.
“Isa?” I ask quietly and look at her. “We are a good team. Right?”
She seems unsure. “We used to be.”
“One moment,” Parker says and steps closer.
I’m surprised. For the first time today he isn’t staying quiet.
“Isabella, I’m your best choice.”
My stomach pulls together. “I asked first.”
“So? This isn’t highschool,” he hisses. I can see fear in his eyes.
Parker the loner doesn’t want to be left alone. Who would have thought?
“Isa and I know each other better than anything else,” I say, trying to defend my point.
“Oh really?” Parker huffs. “I’ve been through so much with her, I know what she is like when she fights. You only know one side of her.”
We stare at each other. How can he dare? Why isn’t Parker backing off? Afterall, Isa is my…
My what?
“Looks like you’ll have to decide,” he says to the woman. “Do you want me, your friend or your ex?”
“I…” Isabella looks from one to the other as she is thinking.
“I could work with both of you but-”
“Isa, please,” I beg. “Don’t make me do this alone. We are great together!”
“No. Isa.” Parker stares at her. “Please… I don’t… I can’t…”
“I’m sorry.” Isabella takes a deep, shaky breath.
“I’m sorry, Parker. I…”
His expression drops.
“I choose Judy.”
Thankfully, I quickly hug her.
That was close.
Then I look at Parker. He nods. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry, I-”
“No. It’s fine. Nox?”
The red haired woman, who had stayed quiet during our discussion, steps in front of the tree.
“We have made a decision. The next two fighters are Judy and Isabella.”
The tree shakes.
“Very well. Strangers. Find your way through the door and pray to return.”
I grab Isa’s hand but she shakes it off.
“Let’s bring this behind us,” she mumbles and walks over to the door.
<<<
2027
Washington D.C., MD
The supermarket seems humongous and bright next to the dull street lights throwing dusty orange jelly onto the car park. He feels car keys in his hand and once he looks to his right, he sees a black Audi standing there. His face reflects in the clean window but what Stan sees makes him jump.
A stranger is looking back at him.
He touches his face. It’s edgier than usual, his eye bags shimmer purple and his fingers glide over sharp stubbles. The hair on his head is shorter and his lips cracked. He looks older.
Stan’s legs feel weak and he has to lean against the car – his car – to stop himself from falling over. He is dreaming. But how can he be aware of it? Something plops into his mind.
Lucid dreaming. Kenny had once explained it to him. A state your body can be in where you’re aware that you are sleeping and you can control the dream as you wish. Stan had never experienced lucid dreams before. And he didn’t expect them to be this realistic. Too realistic for his taste.
>>D. C. was the city he chose to start over. He didn’t know why, it had just felt right to come here and forget everything that had caused this overwhelming, numbing pain that had sent his body and mind into a constant state of exhaustion. Luckily he had found a job quickly and now everything seems to fall back into place. But the pain is still there.<<
Stan’s fingers dig themselves into the black paint of his car until his knuckles turn white. He can barely stand on his own now. What did just happen? It felt like a wave of memories was flooding his brain but those memories weren’t his. No, they were. But not the ones of 17 year old Stan. He’d never been to D.C. before and what pain was the voice talking about? He must be dreaming about his own future. His face, the car, the memories, it seems like a story set 5 or 10 years ahead of his time.
And then Stan notices that he remembers quite a lot of things that are completely new to him. He is 25, works as a dietitian, he lives in a small apartment with his Australian Sheperd Toby. He also had to give up football because of a busted knee. The feeling of his stomach rumbling pulls him out of his thoughts.
>>Sushi and beer. Toilet paper. Treats for Toby.<<
Okay, a shopping list. He tries to stand back up again and takes a big breath. Fine. He’ll play along. Stan makes sure the car is locked and then starts walking towards the supermarket.
>>AXE?<<
Oh god, did he really turn into one of those guys using AXE bodysprays? He sends a ‘no AXE’ to his brain and enters the supermarket. Neon tubes throw harsh lights onto the PVC floor and differently labeled aisles are endlessly pressing themselves next to each other but apart from the overflow of products, the supermarket is almost empty. Stan can hardly spot any customers. What time is it anyway?
>>He’s never been to this area before but he met a new client today. Usually he makes a home visit for the first meeting to get an idea of their surroundings and habits. He has to hurry though, the supermarket will close in twenty minutes.<<
Stan tries to push away the discomfort he feels while listening to those thoughts. It feels like a parasite is inside of his body, taking control over brain and painting a picture of a future that is uncomfortably logical.
He finds the sushi and the beer quiet quickly but catches himself looking for the calories. God.
Stan feels a bit lost with the dog treats. He’s only had one dog, Sparky, when he was still in elementary school and who knows if Toby likes the same things. How old is Toby? Is he a puppy, a grown dog or a fragile senior? Strangely the voice in his head doesn’t know. ‘Fuck it, it’s just a dream,’ Stan thinks and he grabs a bag labeled Sensitive. That should do it. The last thing on his mental list is toilet paper.
>>AXE.<<
‘No goddammit, shut the fuck up!’
He grabs a pack of 6 and goes to one of the cash registers. The line is short, in front of him are an old man buying juice and dark chocolate and a tall latina who is handing over her credit card. Money. Stan’s hands rush over the pockets of his jeans but he finds his wallet in his leather jacket instead, next to his phone. Right. He is an adult now. He looks inside. 30 dollars, an ibuprofen, his apartment keys and a picture of his dog. That’s it? Stan always carries a picture of him and Kenny. Why would he take it out?
“$14.98, paying with cash or by card?” The voice tears him out of his thoughts and when he looks up his eyes widen in shock.
“Kyle!?”
The young man freezes for a second. “Do I know you?”
‘What? No. No! Yes of course you do, you idiot!’
“I…” Kyle tiredly raises an eyebrow but as Stan continues to stare at him, his expression changes.
“Wait, are you here to…” He looks around and then lowers his voice. “… buy something?” What? “Yes?”
He’s in a supermarket after all. With groceries. At the cash register. What else could he be wanting to do? Climb onto the counter and throw dog treats at the other customers like a monkey does with its own feces?
“Alright. My shift’s almost over. Meet me in half an hour behind the containers.” Stan doesn’t know what he is talking about but nods anyway. “So cash or card?” He looks at his groceries and then pulls out the money with his nervous fingers.
~~~~~~~~~~
The air is cold and the intruder in his brain keeps reminding him that Toby is probably very hungry right now and that Stan would rather be anywhere else than here, standing next to the dumpsters, waiting for Kaz.
When he saw him, his heart froze. The fact that Kyle didn’t remember him – again – probably comes from his brain processing yesterday’s events. But he would be lying if he said, it didn’t hurt.
“So, how much?”
Cameron jumps a little, he hadn’t heard Kyle’s approaching footsteps but now he is standing there, right in front of him, his hands buried in the pockets of his oversized hoodie.
“How much what?”
A confused frown takes over Kyle’s face. “Weed, duh. I thought you wanted to buy some.”
The air gets stuck in Stan’s throat. Weed? “I…no, I wanted…I…” “Ah. He hasn’t told you yet. I don’t sell snow anymore. He cut the supplies after he noticed that I kept stuff for myself. I need some too, actually.”
Only now he realizes that Kyle seems nervous. And that the bags under his eyes are even bigger than his own. The skin has an unhealthy pale colour and he isn’t just skinny anymore, he is tiny. Kyle seems to be drowning in that hoodie like a porcelain doll thrown into an oil puddle. His eyes, that Stan loves to stare into whenever he gets a chance, are dull like the street lights. How did he not notice all of these things earlier?
“I haven’t had some in way too long, I was barely able to get up today. Do you happen to know where I can get some? ” “I don’t…I don’t. Sorry.”
Kyle face changes into stone cold anger. “Well then what do you want? Fuck off! And tell him to suck my ass, that bitch can go to hell.” Stan breathes in sharply. He can’t stand seeing him like this any longer. How did this happen? His crush a cocaine addict? What kind of fucked up dream is this?
“Dude, GO!”
He slowly turns around and starts walking. He wants to run, away from this horrifying scene but his legs are too heavy.
When he finally reaches his car, he grabs his keys and opens the front door to sit down. His stomach starts turning upside down. Stan lets his head fall onto the steering wheel. He takes a deep breath. This isn’t real. This is just a dream . Nothing of this is actually happening.
And then the colours fade out into black.