"My name is Abi… What a silly way to start a dream journal.
But whatever.
I'm Abi and I'm a single child… but I have these dreams. Like that Ive always had a sister. It's always been dad and me. Mum isn't with us. Dad says she's in the stars. Everyone tells me that means she's dead.
My memory doesn't go further than that.
In fact, my memory starts today, June 7th.
The day starts, and dad oversleeps. I made myself breakfast and get to school with some money from his wallet.
School is… about right.
Geography, French, History, Art, Science and English.
None of that matters though, because I have a date with him at break! He's always rejected me, but today is the day!
No, that isn't right… How do I know he's always rejected me?
I sit through the classes, waiting for the bell to ring, and…
He isn't here.
What the shit? He's supposed to be here.
I ask Ricky who sits next to him in English and he says he doesn't know.
I spend the whole of break, MY date, looking for him.
I caught a glimpse of him after school but he looked so out of it that I just couldn't say anything to him.
I'll just find him tomorrow and make him pay for lost time."
The next entry.
"June 7th feels like a severe case of deja vu.
Dad oversleeps and I make myself breakfast.
I take a couple notes from dad's wallet and something falls out with them.
A polaroid picture.
A picture of a woman in a space suit and three children. Two little girls and an older girl.
I suppose dad's found a family woman.
I wake him up for work and leave a single note for him to get a cab to the train station.
School is… about right.
But today's different, because I am absolutely going on that date!
The lessons are somehow the same, but that just makes them easier to speed through since I already know the plan.
I make for our meeting spot, and -
There he is.
Rage fills me as I sprint towards him and deliver him the shining hand of love, accidentally throwing him 30m.
Teehee!
He doesn't remember, but we still go on our date. Naturally he pays for it, since he stood me up before. He's reluctant, and poor, but I squeeze it out of him anyway.
The special edition doughnuts are to die for!!! Mine doesn't take long to eat, but he takes too long to eat his so I take a big bite.
When we go back to school, I take him to the nurses office where he's diagnosed with chronic lazybones syndrome.
I take notes in history class for him, and meet him in art.
He looks dashing and handsome as always. His dimples stay tucked in just around his freckles. His eyes a hazel brown. The way he acts like he has no idea what's going on when I'm around.
I love him so much.
I pray for the day he notices.
I see someone trying to sit next to him.
Naturally, some people don't understand the pecking order, and I have to send him to the seat the school apparently assigned me.
I don't abide by what the school assigns me.
I abide by what my heart tells me.
I can tell he's happier when I'm next to him, as I give him my notes on History, his smile appears on his face and my heart skips two beats.
In that moment, I know I would do anything for him without him ever asking.
I would risk my life for him.
The substitute teacher comes in. Madam Antonella. We had her yesterday, but I don't remember her acting as erratic and eccentric like this. She tells the class to paint our inner being, and then she provokes the other students. It sounds like praise, but you can tell the disdain in her voice.
I try to give my soon-boyfriend some tips, but the moment he manages to paint something, his eyes go glazed over and he somehow becomes a zombie.
I wish I was exaggerating.
The lights are on but no-one's home.
Madam Antonella stares at his blank expression for too long, until I ask if I can take him back to the nurse, which she hesitantly agrees to.
I take him there, where he's once again diagnosed with far-too-lazy syndrome, and is laid down to rest for the remainder of the day. When the day ends, I take him home personally, one arm around my shoulder, dragging his feet. The usual routine, it seems.
When I get to his house, nobody's home but his sister. She opens the door and scowls at her brother. Her smile appears upon noticing me carrying him, and she opens the door for the both of us. I take him to his room and put him in bed. I didn't have the guts to change his clothes, it would make me kind of a creep.
Instead, I hung out with Maryanne. We talked boys, we talked him, we did homework until their parents came home. I told them what happened to their son and they invited me to stay for pizza dinner, which I graciously accept.
His family is wonderful. His parents are so well accomplished, and their daughter really demonstrates that with how she was raised.
I really hope they see me as a potential wife for their son.
I start to make my way home around 10:45. His family are so welcoming that it's hard to leave. His sister asks if I want to stay the night, his mother wants to walk me home herself. Because I live just around the block, it doesn't take more than fifteen minutes to get back, but this time, it felt different.
The air was thick, humid, hard to walk through. My body felt ten times heavier. I struggled to take step after step, and just as I get to my front door, I am stabbed through the stomach by what looks to be a jet-black rapier, over and over again. I keel over, and die of blood loss."
The next entry.
"June 7th starts like any other day.
Dad oversleeps. I take his money. I ponder the photograph. I feel excited for my date.
Something feels seriously incorrect though.
Did I dream today twice already?
Was it a dream?"
I flick forward around ten pages.
"June 7th felt like a serious case of deja vu."
I flick forward another ten pages.
"I know my sisters are real, but something is pulling me away from them.
The dreams I have during the day are basically entirely the same thing over and over again.
The photograph springs to life.
It's me, my mum wearing a ridiculous space suit, a twin sister of mine and an older one too.
They're vivid, but extremely graphic. I see my twin sister, who speaks to the grass. She insists that they speak back to her. My older sister attempts to see how long she can stare at the sun. Mother is so proud to have us all together. She takes a telescope from a bag that's out of shot, sets it up in record time and aims it perfectly.
Upon her aiming the telescope, the stars shift into place and nighttime cycles in like the flick of a switch. She points out the constellations, grinning with pride as her daughters share her passions.
I try to speak, but words escape like air through a vent.
I mouth the words 'where are you?'
She whispers 'In the stars.'
I wake up.
I've had just more than a handful of these dreams, but they always play out the same way. Sometimes, my twin's talking to the trees, sometimes my older sister is playing with fire, but the fire dances around her. Either way, it's usually the same dream.
I've come to terms with the fact that I'm stuck in June 7th. The only thing that confirms this is this diary, and the repeat days I've put inside of it.
I used to think this was a dream journal, that I've been dreaming this whole time, but now I believe this is some sort of hell.
A kind of hell that doesn't let you achieve happiness."
Fifteen more pages.
"I've been looking for him.
He doesn't come to school anymore. Why would he when every lesson is the same?
His friend William has never come to school, but Richard does. Whenever Richard is there, he always has this glossy look in his eye, like how he did in art class that one time.
I feel sorry for him. I feel sorry for all of them."
I flick to one of the last entries of the diary.
"Dad never came home last night.
I woke him up and told him he'll be late for work.
He's has money in his wallet since the first week we've been stuck here.
Well, since I stopped taking it. There's no point anymore.
He wore the white shirt that he wore every day, with his black trousers and Churches. His wallet still held the polaroid.
He got a cab to Heart Station and got a train - as one would assume - and never came back. I went to the station after school had finished, because he comes back from work around that time. I sat at the station, and who do I see?
My love.
Exiting the train my dad gets off at.
I reach out to him, but he doesn't see me. Instead, he's beckoned by an older man with a buzz cut smoking a cigarette on the platform. They leave the station together.
I don't know why, but in that moment, every cell in my body screamed 'that should be me'.
I continue waiting for dad for another half hour. The train doesn't leave, and it doesn't get replaced by another train.
I try to open the train itself, but every door is somehow locked shut. There's no driver, but the train is on. There isn't an assistant on hand that could help me.
Somehow I'm completely alone.
Dad's back now, of course, but now I do everything in my power to keep him here.
I stopped waking him up.
Some days, he never wakes up.
I feel like something's up with this town, and despite how much I want to get out of it, I can't gather the energy to do it.
It could be because he's here.
I don't know what I would do without him."
The following entry.
"June 7th, I woke up in bed, and somehow also woke up underneath it.
Ever since dad never came home that night, things have been going weird with me.
Dad didn't acknowledge me at all this morning, regardless of whether he was asleep or not. It was like I was invisible.
I can still see myself, but when I stand in front of a mirror, I can't see myself.
I immediately accept that I'm a vampire now.
I tried to run downstairs to check if I burn in the sunlight. I trip on myself and fall into the door.
Somehow, I appear outside.
The door still on its hinges.
It never opened, I fell through it.
So I guess I'm a ghost."
The final entry.
"I spent the majority of the morning doing ghost things.
I ate food from the store without buying, I frolicked through the park like no-one was watching, and somehow I was kidnapped by a dangerous syndicate.
They placed a bag over my head and drove me to some beaten up compound on the outskirts of town, but clearly on the north-western-most point.
The leader introduced himself as Raphael. A young-ish man with the face of an actual angel, but a really dirty sadistic nature about him. I feel like he would kill me without a moment's notice.
Raphael spoke about him, and how he sent him to a haunted train where he thinks they found my father.
I asked him about the train my love was on not too long ago. He acted surprised at first, but eventually caved in the more I described him. He feigned ignorance, but ultimately he told me he sends people on suicide missions for fun, and refuses to elaborate more.
I asked if I could help, as long as it benefits my love.
He said I can't.
I tried to slap him, but my hand went right through him.
He laughed, tried to stop, and then laughed harder.
Raphael then divulged a whole bunch of information at once. Regarding the cage, the strange powers, the small handful of us that he's found so far. He said I have a sister. He said there might be two. He insists it's complicated, but after I beg for a while, he comforts me by telling me that he'll do everything he can to find them.
Which means I'm not a ghost, nor a vampire. I'm… a superhero.
Or deluded.
…
…
…
I think I'll stay home tomorrow."
The diary stops here.
I ponder her experiences before I get dressed and make my way to her house.
The walk is short, not much longer than ten minutes, so I get there in no time.
Abi's house is a number 20 of her road, and has a mahogany door with a beautiful decorated carving which slightly glows with a tint of silver in between the linings.
I knock twice, and Abi's dad opens the door.
"Hey, uhh… You're Abi's friend, right?"
"That's right, sir." I respectfully respond.
"Abi went out for a moment not too long ago. Wanna come in?" He insists.
"Of course, sir." I comply.
He ushers me inside as he makes his way to the kitchen.
"Take a look around, it might be a while until she comes back." He says, as he puts the kettle on.
The inside of their house can be summed up by saying 'it's missing something'. There are spaces on the walls where family photos should be. There's only two sets of cutlery, crockery, and glassware. It feels like something was torn from this household. Books stay upright in bookcases with nothing to hold them up. It's almost like this house itself is begging to be complete.
The photos that are on the wall are all only of Abi and/or her father. It fills me with a feeling of pure solitude, seeing these. I feel truly sorry for the both of them.
Abi's father returns as I'm glossing over the photos. He sets down two cups of tea on a tray with a small jug of milk on the side.
"I hope you like decaf, it's all I can drink." He says, opening a pot of sugar cubes.
"Absolutely, sir." I'm impartial. "It's all I drink also." I lie.
An awkward silence fills the air, as if I'm about to take his daughter to prom. I try to fill the silence.
"Sir, I hate to impose, but I was under the impression you were at work." I lovingly impose.
"Wanted to get some alone time in with my little
girl, huh?" He asks, his voice reaching a deeper, less accepting tone.
"That's not it." I defend. "I was just curious."
"Well, if you must know, I've got a hangover from last night. I overslept, and Abi called my work to let me know I'm sick." He divulges. "Then she tells
me to sit down and relax while she gets me some medicine. Great girl, eh?" He finishes, smiling at me like I'm in on the joke.
"She really is." I agree.
Suddenly, a hand is placed on my shoulder in very popular fashion, and I flinch.
Actually, 'flinch' is an understatement.
I jumped up at a record 4ft in height.
When I eventually come back to earth, my chair falls back and I find myself facing the ceiling. I divert my eyes further up and find Abigail Walker standing over me like she was waiting for this moment for a hundred days.
She dressed like she thought long and hard about her coordination. A long faded yellow coat with pom-balls descending from the hood-strings. A pleated baby blue skirt and an untucked white button-up shirt. Her hair was in afro-puffs tied at the back of her head.
"Let's take a walk." She says, reaching down to grab my hand. She lifts me up as easy as picking up a fallen broomstick, drops the bag of medicine on her dad's lap and begins to walk out, still holding my hand.
"See you later, dad!" She says, her gentle voice slightly raised. She leads me to the front door, and as I reach for the handle, we find ourselves on the outside. "We have a lot to talk about." She says to me, her hand still holding mine.
We make our way to the park bench where we shared doughnuts on the first week of hell. I don't have the heart to inform her that she's still holding my hand - which is now sweaty from both the humidity and the fact that I'm holding a girl's hand - until we get there, and she lets go as we sit down.
The clouds are overcast. The sun peeks through the cracks. Her fingers twiddle together on her lap as she attempts to find the words.
She's sweating. Her pristine dark skin glistening in the cracks of sunlight. Her dark brown eyes giving a hint of deep chocolate as she ponders. She takes one of her braids and twirls it in her hand.
"I think we're in hell." She begins.
"I think you're right." I agree.
"There's some weird stuff happening around." She elaborates.
"I've seen it, personally." I comply.
"I have superpowers." She continues.
"I can manipulate tea." I inform.
"Shut up, you're joking." As a smile slowly creeps across her face.
The ice, broken.
"No, no! Seriously! I met a mafia leader not long ago, and she needed proof that I know a guy, so I tried hard and turned green tea red." I elaborate, immediately realising everything out of context sounds more than insane.
"I don't believe you." She disapprovingly - yet understandably - says through half her mouth.
"Well we never stayed long enough at your dad's to find out, did we?" I follow, recalling the tea I never got to drink.
"Rats." She snaps her finger in defeat. "Next time." As her face brightens and the tension slowly ceases.
"So I met this guy…" She starts, once more.
"Hmm?"
"It's not like that!" She says, slapping my arm in playful defence. "He kidnapped me and told me a bunch of stuff about you."
"Raphael." I confirm.
"Yeah. Is he sending you on suicide missions?!" Her tone getting more stern, as she diverts her anger towards me for accepting them.
"Kind of… Nearly? I've never been close to dying, but he has me doing jobs." I rationally explain.
"I'm coming with you next time." She demands. "You need me, especially if all you can do is manipulate tea. What a useless power." She irritatedly iterates.
"I think you have to speak to Raphael about that." I say, shifting the responsibility.
"I don't care, you tell me when you're going on a mission, and I'll be there." As she stands up. "And have you seen my diary?!"
In that instance, Raphael's car pulls up behind us with Raphael in the passenger seat.
"Get in!" He commands, as we both scurry to the car.
The journey is the same as always.
Actually, that's a lie.
It gets more awkward every time.
Raphael murmurs something under his breath about a 'family reunion', and suddenly we're at the compound once more.
We walk single file through the one-person-sized door, with Raphael guiding us the whole way. He takes us back to the corridor, and turns to Abi.
"I need you to wait outside." He orders.
"But-" She says in attempt to combat him.
"I need you. Out here." He repeats quietly as he scoots a little closer to her and hands something to her. He whispers something into her ear as she takes the item.
She places it into her pocket, assumedly attempting to be as secretive as he.
Raphael then gestures for me to come with him, and I'm greeted by the whole gang. William, Deus, Locke, Violet, Maryanne, Ariel, Marc, and God. It's a nice change having everyone in one place, but I feel like we're missing someone.
Zidane must be taking a day off.
I take a seat next to William, who's coincidentally two seats from my sister. So in retrospect, I sit between them.
Raphael clears his throat in desperate attempt for attention, which he already had since his entire demeanour attracts it upon entry.
"I have a plan." He begins.
"This is gonna be good." William whispers to me.
"We approach Sole Station in the morning." Raphael insists, as a large monitor ascends from a port in the ground.
"This is gonna be bad." William whispers again.
"So here's the short-story-long." Raphael begins.
"You mean 'long-story-short'." I say, raising my hand.
"I always mean what I say." Raphael argues, tapping a pointer stick at the monitor as it illuminates with pictures of brain scans and maps. "What I've done is recreate a perfect digital replica of my mind. I used a 3D scan of the map to morph it towards the shape of the brain and vice versa. After poking lobes to see what shines, I found a correlation to the phenomena's at Heart Station, and Sole Station also."
He monologues as Violet starts to fall asleep.
Deus has summoned a ball and paddle and plays with it under the meeting table.
Without indication, a card slides underneath the closed door, and Raphael's attention is gripped even for a moment.
He glances, smiles, and pushes it back under the door with his foot.
Fortunately, I am perceptive enough to recognise that it was The Wheel of Fortune.
A part of me wants to question its presence or even its importance in the situation. I even slightly ponder who could have drawn it, until I remember Abigail outside. Raphael clears his throat, both interrupting my potential query and garnering everyone's attention at once.
"As I was saying." He continues. "Considering there are two phenomena at Heart Station, we can only assume that by this map-"
"That there's an even bigger, more dangerous phenomena in Sole Station." I finish.
"Bingo." Raphael confirms.
A light murmur that could almost be perceived as a chuckle is heard from the corner of the room closest to the door.
"The machinery is so loud in here." Raphael insists. "I will summon everyone we have so far. Sole station, everyone. In the morning."