3: Distraction

I allow myself to think back to last weekend while I drive and how utterly gorgeous I was in that black silk dress. The party me and Marielle was attending was not one of the more entertaining gatherings I’ve visited, but I did meet some interesting people. Like Martin Yang who studies mathematics and wants to work for the government or Oscar Nielsen who studies economics and wants to work at a bank. They were certainly interesting, but their constant talk of the future and how a single action can change the world wasn’t something I found entertaining. Then my eyes saw the sight of Theodore Greene and when my gaze met his I made sure that my hair was reflecting the light to take his breath away. As I was expecting he walked over to me and introduced himself. I allowed my eyes to take in the features of his face and then go down and back up over his body. I was instantly intrigued because I hadn’t seen Theodore around before. He waited patiently for my gaze to return to his and then he started talking. It horrified me. Whatever I had been expecting from a guy who looks like a complete and total hunk it wasn’t this. He studied physics and hoped to get a degree in quantum physics. For me, physics was something I had to endure between high school-breaks and this guy actually chose to study it. Without a gun held to his head. I decided on the spot that I would endure his incredibly boring talk because of his looks. It turned out rather quickly though that he was a very good kisser. He pulled me away from the noise and the crowd at the party and we went to his lab for some privacy. It did, of course, soon become clear to me that he had not invited me there for some ”special time”, but rather to boast about his project and he soon started talking about physics again. I didn’t listen to him and was completely absorbed in the thought about which colour of nail polish that would work with my white shirt when I heard him mention ”time machine”. Immediately my head jerked up.

”What do you mean with ’time machine’?” I asked him.
He looked at me and rolled his eyes. ”What I just said was that my project is to build a time machine.”
I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. ”A time machine?” I snorted. ”That’s impossible.”
”Nothing’s impossible.”
”Oh please, you’re not going to tell me that ’nothing’s impossible as long as you believe’, are you? I stopped listening to that drivel when I was five.”
He smirked at me. ”You’ll see, Sophie. You’ll see.”

He pulled me to a corner of the room and stood proudly in front of something that was covered with a sheet. I had the feeling that he was about to show me a masterpiece and I couldn’t have been more bored. Most of me wished that he would just stop talking to so I could go back to the party and Marielle, but I felt that it would be rude of me to just leave him there. I could feel his gaze upon my face and I summoned my strength to look at him. He made a little drumroll sound by slapping the wall and then pulled the sheet off. All I could see was some strange machine in some kind of black metal that looked different from anything I’ve ever seen before. I walked closer to it and when I touched it I expected it to feel cold and metallic to the touch. It didn’t. It felt rather soft and warm even though I could see that it was clearly not switched on.

”What exactly is this?”
”This, my dear”, Theodore said with exaggerated politeness, ”is a time machine”.

My mind split in two. I knew what he was saying. Of course I did. I had heard him say it. I knew what a time machine was. It was just…

”This isn’t possible”, I told him. ”You can’t build a time machine. It’s not possible!”
”Why isn’t it possible?”
”Well for one you can’t go back in time!”
”Until now”, he replied and his smile grew bigger. ”I admit that it wasn’t easy. I wondered what I’d gotten myself into more than once, but as you can see – I clearly did it.”
Now I felt the smugness creeping up on me. ”Well…”, I started, ”I haven’t actually seen it in use, have I? So for all I know it’s just a rather strange machine and nothing else.”

I could see how his brain started working almost as soon as I finished my sentence, but he just smiled and winked at me. “f I didn’t know better I would almost believe that you don’t trust me.”
“Well, it’s just a big black box.” I did my best to sound bored. If he didn’t want to show me how it worked, then I didn’t feel like wasting more time arguing about it. “I’d like to go back to the party now”, I said and pulled him away from his time-machine and towards the music.

The music sounds more and more distant and I can feel myself getting dizzy. I try to shake my head to clear it, but the motion makes my neck hurt. I use all my mental will to focus and open my eyes. Why am I in a car? For a second I don’t understand what is happening to me. Then I begin to realise that my focus was on the memory rather than on the present. I notice that my car isn’t on the road. Why am I not on the road? I look out through the wind shield and notice that it’s completely ruined. I see that my car has been driven into a brick wall. Why am I not on the road? I think to myself and look down at my legs. I can see them. Of course I can. I notice the big shard of glass in my left thigh and the red patch of something leaking through my jeans. Why am I not on the road? I ask myself over and over until the mist that looms in the background sweeps in and covers everything.

2: Cold

As soon as I set my foot outside the door I shiver. With an annoyed expression on my face I look around only to realise that snow has fallen during the night. White, cold and wet snow. I'm not a fan of snow. Or cold. Especially not the kind that goes through clothes and skin and settles in the bones. I keep muttering about it under my breath while I walk to my car. At least the car isn't covered in snow. While fishing up my car key from my bag I give the snow a disgusted look and then put the key in the lock. What the...? It won't let me turn it. I try again, but it's simply impossible to open the lock without breaking the key. Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic! The bloody lock's frozen solid. God damn! I lean closer and try to melt the ice in the lock with my breath, but it refuse to give in. I draw a deep breath and try to keep myself from screaming. Slowly I open my bag and pull out my mobile phone. The anger keeps making me simply want to punch my hand through the wind-shield so I have to really focus when I dial the number.

"Marielle, it's me."
"Oh, hey Soph. How's it going?"
"Well, if you take away the fact that I want to ruin my car it's going pretty damn good. How're you?"
"I am absolutely fantastic!"
I roll my eyes. Marielle has a special way of expressing her "fantastic", which always makes me realise that something has happened.
"Oh?"
"Yes. Fan-ta-stic! Jacob got me tickets to that Stupen-concert I wanted to see. And I haven't said anything to him about it! Hinted a bit maybe, but not..."
"Yea, Marielle, that's fantastic. Look, I'm gonna be late. The lock to the car is frozen and I have to take the...", even the thought of it makes me shudder, "...bus."
"Soph, have you tried melting it with a hair-dryer?"
"Real cute Marielle, but you know that my hair-dryer requires a cord and there's no way in hell that it'll reach that far."
"Maybe not yours, but mine will. I forgot it at your place last weekend when we went out. Ah, what a great evening that was... Do you remember when..."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll check it. Thanks! See you at the uni, Marielle."
"Later, Soph."

I run back to the house while thinking about Marielle's question. Yes, I remember last weekend. I remember it very well. The black silk dress I was wearing slips into my mind while I sprint up the stairs to look for the hair-dryer. Together with my fair complexion it really is a wonderful look. Or well, then it was. I doubt it will be with this hair colour. I laugh to myself and can't keep back a shout of triumph when I locate Marielle's hair-dryer on top of my dresser and the black silk dress. With the hair-dryer in my hand I hurry back to my car. I turn the heat on the dryer to the max and hope for the best while aiming it at the lock. My patience isn't very high and after a minute or two I try to turn the key in the lock again. Success! I jump in the car, put the hair-dryer on the passenger seat and close the door. Then I start the engine and drive towards the university.

1: Mess

I keep looking into the mirror, but I can't fully comprehend what my eyes are actually seeing. The woman behind the glass has black hair. Her beautiful blue eyes watch me suspiciously, like they're trying to decide whether or not I'm a threat. Her fair complexion makes her look fragile, almost sick, together with the black hair. She isn't made to look this dark and seeing it makes me hurt inside.
I tear my gaze away and look out through the window. The sun is shining outside and I can hear the happy voices from the children playing on the street below. Somewhere I can hear music playing and someone screaming along to a game.
Slowly I turn my head back to the mirror. She is still there. Still looking breakable. Still looking different. Without thinking about it I move my hand up to touch her black hair. Her movement mimics mine.

What the hell was I thinking?! I'm almost yelling at myself now. The black dye had been an impulse-thing. The thought had never really occured to me and then all of a sudden I find myself staring at a black-haired woman in the mirror. Of all the freaking colours of the rainbow - you had to go with black! I will never be able to wear black again without looking like one of the emo-kids. It's not that I don't like other colours, it's just that black is classic. Time-less. Besides, it brings so much more attention to my face - or well, at least it used to. I have no idea what it will be like now. Maybe people will think I'm on my way to a funeral and decide not to talk to me because I might burst into tears at any time. Oh God, I hope not.
I walk into the bathroom to adjust my make-up, but no matter how much I try I just can't seem to get it right. Applying less lip-gloss won't work and trying another shade of eye-shadow besides my usual beige is like a child painting on the wall. It looks good, in a weird way, but you know it shouldn't be there. Then again, I'm thinking to myself, neither should the black hair. I'm pulling myself away from my reflection and forcing myself to look for proper clothes to wear. Skirts, dresses, tank-tops, jeans, sweaters... Everything is lying in a complete mess on my floor. My eyes notice something pink somewhere in the middle of one of the piles and I try to snatch it away quickly so I don't make an even bigger mess. Of course I fail and now I can't even walk anywhere without having to trample on clothes. Great. As if I'm not late enough already. I sigh to myself. Just great. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and look at the pink piece of clothing I'm holding. Turns out it's one of my favourite t-shirts so I put it on while I dive for the new pair of pale black slim-fit jeans that I know should be here somewhere. The thought about not making more of a mess than I already have is long gone. I stir pile after pile trying to locate the jeans, but I can't seem to find them anywhere. Just when I'm about to give up and settle for a black skirt I see the jeans lying neatly folded at the top of my dresser. I quickly pull them on and rush for the door - only stopping briefly to pick my bag up from the floor and putting on a pair of shoes. A quick glance at the watch on my mobile-phone tells me that I really don't even have time to stand here and look at them so I force my feet into a pair of brown leather-boots and cringe my arms into my striped jacket. Perfect. University, here I come.

Prologue: Dream

If you were given the opportunity to go back in time - where would you go? The industrial revolution in England? Rome during Caesar? The creation of Machu Picchu? The Big Bang?
What if I told you that you weren't coming back? That it's a one-way-trip.
Would you still go?
Would you still want to go?

myohemmin

"It's raining again."

/Marge Simpson