Timeless: Some Other Time (The Reflection Edit)

I'd say if there's one memory to cherish, it would still be the first day she crossed over.

She told me to take her to my favorite place in the city. I told her once we went there together, it would become just that. It was a forested path in the woods near my house, at night time. The congregation of trees was thick and the moonlight could barely light our way. We could only hear the music I played from my phone, the river trickling by, and our nervous breaths. Feeling only the warmth of each others hands as we wandered through the darkness, we came a across a bench. We shared our first kiss on that bench. Her lips was what I imagined as I laid on the bloodied ground with a bullet wound in my head.

100 years. They said I was gone for that long. I held myself and covered my face as the doctor explained the processes by which they kept me alive. I can only recall the word "cryogenics". A lawyer shortly came afterward and presented me the one belonging I ended up inheriting. It came from my lover's will: the flash drive where I used to "keep" her.

It felt bittersweet, that our only memento together was the cruel prison of her circumstances. The army had no sympathy for mine own, for I had already delayed my involuntary service for so long, they could not wait another day despite a miracle happening.

We managed to keep in touch as much as possible, we would call often and she would take photos of the many places she visited around the world. I asked her why she would never be in the picture itself, and she replied that it would only be a great picture if it included the two of us. Right now, I wished I changed her mind back then.

I sat down on a chair, hunched down, elbows to my knees, and stared deeply the flash drive. More moments flashed through my brain. I shook my head and frowned as I pushed up the plug from inside the case. A piece of paper suddenly shot out of the flash drive and landed on the floor. I picked it up with hesitation and unfolded the slip. It only said two words "Come home".
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I take a one-trip ticket back to my city as soon as I can and walk through nostlagic streets. Everything has changed, nothing feels familiar. All the houses, including my parents' house, are gone, replaced by skyscraper buildings. The empty lot that was rotting away with vegetation was replaced by a 3-storey tall mall. That was where I used to play soccer with the kids in my neighbourhood. What could she possibly mean by "home"? I take a gamble.

The nature walk still remained, keeping green areas in the city was always important. But walking through here was painful, so I break into a brisk jog. Nothing waited for me at the bench, what was I really expecting, but a clue somewhere. From my memory emerges another painful-albeit for another reason-memory about the carving in the bottom of the bench, a heart with my name and Monika's carved with a pocket knife:
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"Come on, don't you think it'll be romantic?" She's tugging my right arm, of which the hand is secured inside my pockets.
"But it's so cheesy Monika, what are we, in some after-school special? A fanfic barfing with self-fullfillment?
"But I've always wanted to do something like this, and I want to commemorate our first kiss together."
"Yeah, but it's uhm, vandalism," I scratch my head out of embarrasment. I really don't want to do this.
"Oh don't be a square!" She gives you a tiny shove. "Think about this angle," she says pointing her finger like she's about to launch into a lecture, her thumb stretching to give her ninety degrees, "you'll make me the happiest girlfriend in the world! So how about it?"
"Okay, okay, fine. Alright, stop jumping up and down and take my phone and use the flashlight app. I'll start carving it."
"Sure. I hope the ground isn't too dirty." We both lie down under the bench. Monika aims the flashlight and I begin scraping. "Hey. Anon? Mind if I get a little bit closer?"
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I found myself looking at a freshly painted bench. It had a plaque that read "Donated by the lovely Peter & Gunn Lawyer Agencies".
I lie down on it and stare at the branches and leaves that eclipse the sun. The old bench was gone. And so was any evidence of that night.

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I have a few regrets. I regret not making my own will. I regret not having a selfie of me and her, as much as I abhor that cultural phenomenon. I also regret not marrying her officially, because trying to find someone's grave without them having a last name is impossible!

I bury my head into my arms laid out on the desk. The smell of old newspaper attack my nose, and I whisk them all away. I should be more careful about library materials, but I care little, they don't even know me. It's been months of searching through obituaries, cemeteries, word of mouth, and shady informants. The tenth library without any location of her grave. The city had no info, I had to start traveling. And now I'm stuck in this podunk town with no money, and no lead.

I decide to wander around the library, looking for a book to read, to clear my mind for even a minute. And then I notice the computers they have available for public use. They're ancient! They look like they're from my time - a monitor that actually has a casing, resting on top of an actual computer tower. USB ports! It has USB ports! I rush to the front desk to get the login info, and I immediately sit down and stick mine's into it.

The contents are sparse. The Doki Doki Liturature Club game is still there, along with the stories and poems I've written, my favorite music, movies, and games. I wistfully believed that if I stuck them in there with her character file, she could get a chance to access them herself and see what kind of person I am.

But, a single new addition, a folder titled "Wish you were here". I opened it, and it was a giant catalogue of pictures and folders. I went through each and every one. All those places she went to when I was stuck in military, they were there. But in this version, she was in them, doing the exact same pose. A planned smile, pointing towards the wonder in question, her other hand by her side, clenching as if she were holding something invisible.

A folder named real life, selfies of her with her friends in bars and concerts, a picture of her holding a graduates certificate. A photo of her in the mirror wearing scrubs. So many mirror photos of her wearing different dresses and clothes, different faces. Where her face had makeup, eyeliner, or wrinkles, and new blemishes. A giant picture of the entire hospital staff, a man had an arm around her. So many people I never knew, so many places I never dreamed. They were important enough in her life to take a picture of it and then stick it in here.

A folder named "one picture every day". It was exactly that, a picture of her face in the mirror for every day. There were 25185 pictures. She kept a straight face, but the creases of her cheeks betrayed the smile she wanted to display. I watched her age in the matter of minutes.

Every new picture I digested, a tear came down on the keyboard.

69 whole years in this reality. That's a whole life, one that I haven't even experienced yet. A life that I was not a part of. She had so many cherished memories catalogued here in this flash drive, and in some weird way I feel like I am a part of them. But I sit here, while she flies freely in the afterlife, where only God knows.

It was a miracle, then a curse. But she had to live on, and figure out how to get by everyday without me. These pictures never revealed a sad face, only of innocent joy, of complete neutrality, of pure beauty. I can only surmise she figured it out. And I need to do that as well.

I right clicked the flash drive and went to "Format...". In the meantime, I went on Word and typed out my resume. With a bitter smile I finish it in a few minutes and print out the single page. I walk back to the front desk and the lady asks if I was alright over there. She noticed the profuse sobbing I was doing.

"I think I should be fine now miss, I should be alright. Now," Handing her the resume, "do you think there any opportunities for employment for a man like me here, or somewhere nearby? I am in desperate need of a job."

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[Suggested listening material]: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mi57d50pCUw

She had the song he played for her that night blasting in her room for the fifteenth time "today". She sighs and sinks into her computer chair. She had a whole lifetime to get this right, and she forgets to add enough entertainment to last forever. What a cruel reality to live in.

She didn't want to listen to this song again. She didn't want to watch "Redline" for the hundredth time. Maybe another playthrough of "Cave Story"? Maybe laugh in anguish about the story he wrote about how she trapped herself in the game again to wait for him, again? The one called Timeless: An Eternal Love? Nah, fuck that. She changes the scene to the nature walk bench, and breathes in that fresh, fresh air. She looks through the poem that she wrote for him:

"It's Spring


It's spring
Your solemn face always holds a new mystery
Like the flowers outside, all in bloom
But the greatest mystery of all,
Is just how longer till your irises open in this room?

It's spring
You'll forgive me for not being around as much, right?
The bills got me on double shifts and moonlighting
It's got me working on a side project as well, but no stress
This body is strong, so don't worry, don't sweat!

It's spring
Forget about my last statement, young naivete
But the doctors said it's good to stretch and strengthen your muscles
I do it for you as much as I can, it makes us both stronger. Still,
You'll forgive me if we skip leg day sometimes, right?

It's spring
but I can no longer feel this seasons' regeneration
Retirement has given me more time for you
But also more time for impatience
It's okay though, the project is reaching it's conclusion

It's spring
From side-by-side hospital beds
I finish the final touches
I hope you'll enjoy the easter egg hunt
And pray for no repercussions
"

It's been read over so many times, but it never seems perfect. Maybe the problem wasn't the poem, but the delivery of it? In any case, she can only wait.

Even though she managed to code out the hellvoid, she forgot that meant she had to experience the passage of time fully. If she were to do it again, she would have added a few friends in here to play games with, even some club members. But no use fretting the small stuff, the doctors said it should be only be a few more days, judging from their last conversation. Before she breathed her final breath and prayed for her other self to succeed where she couldn't.

She takes out her phone and checks the time, 5 PM. Her background picture was her covering a cheeky smile with her hand as she took a selfie with a sleeping Anon. She really just wants to nap. She closes her eyes, sometimes it was easier to fall asleep here than in her room, and it's not like anything dangerous can attack her here.

Monika closed her eyes, and she didn't see nor feel the flash of white that came and enveloped her whole world.

-END-