The Far Reaches of Sound: March 2014

I had quite a bit of free time over spring break, and took the opportunity to write a short story based on a vivid dream that I had had. A rough version of that story is below, for your reading pleasure and criticism. The story is 5,393 words long.

Eternal

It was New Year’s Day.

It was my wedding day.

I leapt out of bed; I was so excited that I could hardly breathe. My heart pounded as I threw on my clothes rushing to the bathroom as I did so. I wasted no time in brushing my teeth and shaving, taking care not to cut myself; it wouldn’t look good if I showed up to my wedding with a gash on my cheek. Mere hours later, I found myself in front of my beautiful bride proclaiming those two beautiful little words, “I do”. I was so happy I thought my heart would burst, and I swear it almost did when I kissed her. It was a simple, but wonderful kiss. Then, after what seemed like seconds, I was carrying her through the threshold of my home. It was a simple place in the suburbs; nothing spectacular to look at; its grey walls and slated roof looking weary after only a few years’ worth of age. However, it would serve its purpose as a fine home for my family. She told me that it was beautiful, poring over my meager selection of art.

I had three paintings. The first, which was positioned on the wall so that you could see it as you walked in the door, portrayed a white wolf, a sword in its mouth. The wolf was looking towards a mountain in the distance; wind and snow seemed to swirl around it, and trees towered above it, retaining their great presence without diminishing the majesty of the wolf in any way. The second piece showed a great red serpent on a shadowed background. Its mouth was closed and its glimmering azure eyes seemed to peer into one’s soul; despite being a simple painting in and of itself, the amount of detail was quite simply stunning. The final piece showed a man in golden armor with a huge sword slung over his shoulder. He was stepping out of a cave and his hand covered his brow to protect his eyes from the sunlight, as if he hadn’t seen it for a long time.

Each piece of art was a treasure of mine, and was thoroughly examined by my wife before we retired. She said she liked the one with the soldier the best, and that it reminded her of me. We tried to cook a meal of salmon and white wine, but since neither of us had any real skill in cooking, it didn’t come as any surprise when we tasted the bitter flavor of charred meat upon sampling our creation; we wound up ordering Chinese take-out instead, preserving only the wine from the remains of our previous attempt at a meal.

The weeks passed, then the months, and soon I was in the hospital holding my newborn son. He was such a beautiful creature; so soft and fragile. Tears welled up in my eyes when it dawned upon me that I had been instrumental in creating that wonderful child, and I handed him back to his mother as I wiped those tears from my eyes. She smiled at me and I stooped to kiss her, and then glanced again at my son. I told him how amazing he was, and that he would grow up to be a great and brilliant man. He responded by letting out a cry, and the doctors shooed me away so my wife could get some rest.

Some weeks later, as I was preparing dinner for my wife and son, I heard the doorbell ring; I turned the heat to low so my stew wouldn’t burn and went to the door. I peered out the window; upon seeing two police officers I immediately opened the door, asking if there was any problem. The first man, who was a bit shorter than his companion, said there was no problem and explained to me that they had found a pup on the street. They heard from a neighbor that I was a doctor and wondered if I would be willing to care for it. I then noticed that the other officer was holding a puppy; it seemed to be a mixed breed, and even had some wolfish qualities, but its most remarkable feature was its bright white fur, which seemed to glimmer in the moonlight. I replied that I would take it, but would likely wind up taking it to the pound in the morning since I had a newborn son to care for. However, my wife had other plans, and told me that it would be good for our son to have a companion growing up.

I invited the officers in for a drink, and they gladly accepted, quietly closing the door behind them. I cautiously set the pup down on the couch; it couldn’t have been more than a few days old, as it struggled to walk over to my wife. It reached my son, warily sniffing him. After a few seconds, it let out a yip and licked his toe, causing the child to release a bright giggle. We all laughe and I brought our guests into the kitchen for beers.

Years passed, and my family and I led a happy life. It seemed like my son was always smiling, his joyous face brightening up every room he entered. It wasn’t long before he was walking, and soon after that he began to race the dog. Our yard lent little room to run in, but that didn’t stop the two from wearing themselves out each day. The pup would often run around with my son’s toys in its mouth, eager to play for as long as it could. We lived a happy and quiet life, that much was certain. I was also very happy with my work; as a doctor I was constantly helping and healing people, which is as edifying a job as any I can think of.

One day, when my son was about six, I woke up and realized that I had fallen asleep at my clinic. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but I always wound up feeling annoyed and rather irritable. I opened the window; the sky was dark and I figured it was close to dawn, not too far away from my opening hours. I opened up my email on my smartphone to see if anything important had come up. There were only a few promotions, but as I was scrolling down my wife texted me a picture of our son. He was lying on the couch with our dog and both were asleep. I smiled.

Before much more time had passed, a young man opened the door to my clinic. He seemed to be in his early twenties, and his clothing and appearance suggested that he might not be living in the best conditions. He explained to me that he had a dull pain in his wrist, and that it had swollen up. It was obvious that it was a sprain. As I spoke with him and explained what he should do, he seemed to be staring off into the distance, a blank look on his face. I asked him if he was alright and if he was listening, and his eyes snapped back to me. He smiled, a sad smile, and replied that he was fine. Then, he said something very strange. He said that he was tired of doing the same thing over and over again. It didn’t make any sense, and I asked him if he meant his wrist. A puzzled look came across his face for a second, but was quickly replaced by another small sad smile, as if he had remembered something long forgotten. He then told me that it wouldn’t be long and abruptly left the clinic. I called for him to come back, but by the time I reached the front office he was already gone.

As evening approached I decided to go to the nearby mall for dinner. The food court was right at the entrance, making it quite the convenient stop for an easy meal after work. As I was waiting in line to order sushi, I heard a strange noise in my ear. It was a hissing sound, much like that of a snake. I turned my head to see two gleaming yellow eyes staring into my own, two eyes that were set in a broad head, the light of the cafeteria reflecting of its glimmering crimson scales. I let out shout and fell back; in front of me was a red serpent that was easily as tall as I was. It slowly slithered along the ground towards my head and I lay there paralyzed in fear. I looked to the man who was behind me in line, but he wasn’t moving. It didn’t even look like he was breathing, but my attention quickly returned to the snake when it opened its mouth.

I closed my eyes, prepared to be struck by its vile fangs, but instead of feeling pain, I heard a voice. It was a calm, soothing, female voice. It told me that this “cycle” would soon be over, and apologizes for what she needs to do. I grow confused, but the serpent suddenly jabs her fangs into my neck. I expect to feel pain, but I feel nothing. Suddenly, I stand up, but I know that it isn’t really me. Somehow, my body is moving without my minds consent. The man who had been frozen behind me asked if I was alright, and my mouth replied that I was fine, I had simply slipped. My legs moved forward steadily, and then my mind went blank. The next thing I saw was my wife sleeping next to me in my bed. I felt calm, and realized that nothing strange had happened, I had simply gone to get dinner. I felt something pulling at my mind, as if there was something important that I had forgotten, but I decided it wasn’t important and closed my eyes.

3 more years passed before another odd event occurred. It was a cool evening, and I was walking down the street with my son. We had just finished watching a movie about a knight and a golden dragon; we discussed which parts we like best while walking toward a nearby ice cream parlor. Above the entrance was neon sign that read “Heaven’s Way Yon”. It looked as if the last word was meant to be “Yonder”, which made no more sense than the present name. But the ice cream was good, which was all that mattered. I got mint chocolate chip, and my son got strawberry.

As I ate my frozen treat, I listened to a conversation two young men were having behind me. They were discussing the current state of the government, and one said that he would be willing to join with “them”. I imagined he meant the meager movement that was developing; it was supposed to be some kind of resistance seeking to overthrow the current government and establish a new and supposedly freer system of rule. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to disrupt society in such a way. The common man was, in general, happy and well fed; these weren’t the dark ages.

I put my napkin in the garbage and rose to leave the parlor. As I opened the door, I heard a voice behind me say, “Dad?” I was confused for a moment; why would anyone call me dad? Then I realized I had a son, and had almost left without him. Panicked and confused thoughts ran through my mind as I returned and took my son by the hand and led him out with me. How, and why would I forget my son? It didn’t make any sense, but it was as if for a moment I had forgotten he had existed.

Another year passed, and I was in bed with my wife on New Year’s Eve. I marveled at the fact that tomorrow would be our ten year anniversary. Had I really been married to such a wonderful woman for ten whole years? Had I? It seemed almost too hard to believe. I glanced at my clock, which read 11:59. I should probably get some sleep, I’m going to have a big day tomorrow; my wife will be expecting something special, I just hope the dinner I have planned will be enough.

…reset…

It was New Year’s Day.

It was my wedding day.

I leapt out of bed; I was so excited that I could hardly breathe. My heart pounded as I threw on my clothes rushing to the bathroom as I did so. I wasted no time in brushing my teeth and shaving, taking care not to cut myself; it wouldn’t look good if I showed up to my wedding with a gash on my cheek. But as fate would have it, I did cut myself, right on my chin. Swearing, I threw my razor aside and grabbed a towel to cover the cut. When it stopped bleeding, I washed my face again and went out to my car. When I got stuck in traffic, it seemed as if my day was only getting worse. To my great distress, I wound up arriving late to my own wedding, and my wife was already waiting for me. I ran up the aisle, and watched as she solemnly walked up after me. I was furious; this wasn’t what was supposed to happen, I was supposed to have a perfect and happy marriage!

Then, as my wife stood in front of me, she smiled, and I was hit by a wave of déjà vu. Something about her standing in front of me with that wonderful smile on her face felt intensely familiar; I could have sworn I had been there before. But this was the first time I was ever married, I couldn’t possibly have been there before. A moment later, I said “I do”, and kissed my wife, still feeling an unshakable sense of déjà vu. However, by the time we arrived home, it was gone.

When my son was born, it was the happiest day of my life. Tears welled up in my eyes when it dawned upon me that I had been instrumental in creating that wonderful child, and I looked to my wife with a huge grin. She smiled nervously and beckoned for me to return him to her. I told him how amazing he was, and that he would grow up to be a great and brilliant man. He responded by letting out a cry, and I handed him back to his mother. The doctors then shooed me away so she could rest.

I then noticed that the other officer was holding a puppy; it seemed to be a mixed breed, and even had some wolfish qualities, but its most remarkable feature was its bright white fur, which seemed to glimmer in the moonlight. I replied that I would take it, but would likely wind up taking it to the pound in the morning since I had a newborn son to care for. My wife agreed, saying that she didn’t need another youngling to care for. However, when I set the puppy on the floor, it ignored my son and bounced over to my wife, letting a little yip of delight. She then let out a bright laugh and said that maybe keeping it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I turned and thanked the officers for their time and showed them out the door. When I looked back at my family, I saw that the pup was now sniffing my son. It cocked its head to one side, as if examining the child, then returned to my wife. I had a strange feeling, as if I was forgetting something, but I paid it no heed.

One day I was at work and a young man opened the door to my clinic. He seemed to be in his early twenties, and his clothing and appearance suggested that he might not be living in the best conditions. He explained to me that he had a dull pain in his wrist, and that it had swollen up. It was obvious that it was a sprain. When I went to look at it, he stopped me and asked me if I had seen anything yet. His question puzzled me and I asked if he meant his wrist. He sighed and replied that I shouldn’t play; this was the correct cycle and I should begin to see variations. I had no idea what he was talking about and told him as much. He shook his head a little bit and then did something extraordinary. Suddenly, instead of the shabby and worn clothing he had worn second before, he was now dressed in a pitch black suit, with a piercingly blue tie on his neck. Startled, I took a step back, and asked him what had happened. In another blink of the eye, he had returned to his previous form, and then disappeared entirely. Bewildered and rather frightened I looked around for where he had gone, but when I didn’t find him I decided to go and get a drink instead.

As I took another shot of whiskey, the bartender asked me what had happened to bring on this sudden urge. Still being confused, and more than a bit drunk, I told him to buzz off and to bring me more whiskey. He shrugged and poured me another. I went over what I had seen in my mind over and over again, trying to rationalize it, to explain it in some way that I could understand. But I couldn’t ignore the facts; somehow that man had instantly changed his appearance, and then disappeared just as quickly. Maybe it had simply been a trick of the mind, a hallucination. Yes, that was it, I was simply seeing things. That had to be it, it was the only explanation. With my mind slightly eased, I decided it was finally time to leave the bar. Either way, I decided to keep these events to myself.

I considered going to the mall for a quick dinner, but decided to return home to my family instead. As I drove home, I suddenly realized that I was still somewhat drunk. But it was too late; I might as well keep going. Besides, there was no one on the road; what could possibly go wrong? As the thought ran through my mind, bright lights suddenly appeared before me and I swerved to the side, but the car slammed into my side. I must have immediately lost consciousness, because the next thing I remember aside from a few hazy images was being arrested for DUI and manslaughter. The next day I called my wife and tearfully explained to her that I wouldn’t be coming home for a while.

I spent New Year’s Eve still in prison, imagining what my family was going through. They must be ashamed of me, just as I was ashamed of myself. How did this happen? This was going to be my ten year anniversary! I was going to make dinner tomorrow, buy a bottle of fancy wine, maybe go out to a movie; I’m such a fool! I don’t want this, I don’t need this! This isn’t how it’s supposed to be! Wait…how it’s supposed to be…I feel like it’s supposed to be different, like something about this is wrong. What time is it, 11:59? I feel horrible, what a way to start the new year.

…reset…

It was New Year’s Day.

It was my wedding day.

And something was wrong.

I felt excited as I got out of bed, but I had a strange feeling in my stomach, as if I had done this before, or felt this before. This was my first marriage, but this excitement I had seemed incredibly familiar. The sense of Déjà vu intensified as I stood in front of my bride and said, “I do.” I was so happy, but at the same time I was confused; I couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow this had happened before. But how? How could I possibly have been here before, been married to this woman before? It was impossible, wasn’t it?

Later that night, I had a dream. Or, at least I thought it was a dream. A huge scarlet serpent slithered around me, climbing up my body until its bitter tongue tickled my temple. In a sultry voice, it asked me if anything strange was happening. I replied yes: I had a feeling that this had happened before. She then said that maybe it had, and slinked away.

My daughter was born later that year, and for the first time that year, the constant déjà vu that I had been experiencing finally dissipated. Tears welled up in my eyes when it dawned upon me that I had been instrumental in creating that wonderful child, but as I wiped a tear away, the sense of familiarity fell upon me again. I suddenly felt very frustrated, and more than a little angry; I handed my daughter back to my patiently waiting wife and left the room. I paced back and forth trying to decipher this infuriating sense of repetitiveness; no matter what I did I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had somehow done all this before.

I had considered going to see a counselor several times, but every time I decided not to. Surely they would call me crazy, insane even. But that question remained, constantly knocking against my skull and blanketing my thoughts: was I indeed going insane? Surely this couldn’t be normal. I soon learned that it wasn’t. One night, as my family and I were at home eating dinner, I heard a scratching at the front door. I turned the light on and glanced out the window to see a small white pup standing on my porch, shivering in the frigid weather. I told my wife and at her insistence, I cautiously opened the door to let it in. With a cry of joy, it quickly bounced inside and stood up on my leg. We brought it food, water, and a bed, and it quickly fell asleep. However, before its eyes closed in slumber, it gave my hand a quick gentle lick.

I turned to speak to my daughter when I saw that my daughter was, somehow, my son. But I didn’t have a son, or did I not have a daughter? I suddenly grew very, very afraid, and quickly stepped outside, ignoring the concerned cries of my family. My child runs after me, crying for me to come back. I run out to the street. I hear the blare of a horn. I see a burning light. As my daughter ran in front of me, I hear myself scream. I-

Where am I? I see nothing. Wait, is that light? No, not light, something else, I don’t know.

“So, you’re finally here.”

Whose voice is that? A woman? I think so.

“It took three cycles, but you finally broke out.”

“Broke out?” I inquired. “What do you mean broke out? Broke out of what?”

“The system. The program.”

“You mean like a computer program?” I asked, an odd sense of calm overwhelming me.

“Similar, yes.” The voice replied, suddenly manifesting in the form of a great crimson serpent. A serpent? No, the serpent. Suddenly, memories began to flow into my mind, memories of joy, of pain, and of a bright red snake, its fangs embedded in my flesh. And yet, I felt at peace. “What has happened to me? Am I dead?”

“In a sense, yes.” The serpent replied. “But at the same time not, because you weren’t truly alive. You are nothing but a once human consciousness trapped inside a prison constructed by a tyrant.”

As I pondered its words, it was suddenly coiled around my neck, its voice tickling my ear.

“This tyrant destroyed the human race, choosing to bind a handful of humans in what you might call a computer program. In his arrogance, he enslaved you and everyone else in your limited world to relive the same ten year period over and over.”

Everything made sense now, my déjà vu, the sense of familiarity, and I suddenly broke out of ignorance into realization.

“Then, why me?” I asked. “Am I, and why am I the only one that this is happening to?”

“Because you’re special.” The snake replied, sliding around my body. “You are…chosen.”

“Then what next?”

“Now that you have gained this knowledge, it is your fate to destroy this illusion, to break free and recreate humanity, to bring it once again to physical existence. You must overthrow this tyrant, defeat him, and break out of this cage.”

An inkling of doubt swelled in my mind, but was quickly repressed as I considered the serpent’s words with the newfound revelation of my past memories. It was despicable that this tyrant had confined humanity in such a cruel existence, to trap them in such a meager place; if it was my duty to restore the human race, than I would do it. Something still didn’t feel right though, a seed of worry in my soul, but I again dismissed it.

“I don’t remember this place, does this usually happen?” I inquired.

“No.” The serpent said. “You are here because, by breaking past the linear timeline, you died before the system reset. No one is supposed to die before the ten year period is over, otherwise their consciousness would come here, to this blank space, this error.”

“What about my daughter then? Didn’t she…”

“This may be hard to hear, but none of the children younger than ten years of age truly exist in the system. They are only data, and did not exist as a consciousness in the previous world. I’m sorry. Now, you must return to the world, but you will have an awareness that you did not have before. You will have your memory of the last three cycles and will retain all your memories from those in the future. It may take many cycles, and you will be beset by the defenses of the system, as well as the faults of your own mind. Over time, however, you may find allies, those who agree with your cause and will aid you in your struggle. In fact, there is one mind in particular who can aid you that I believe you have met before. However, I am bound by the tyrant, and my time here is short; I will not be able to assist you any longer.”

“Alright, when do I start?” I asked.

“Soon, one last thing: with your awareness, you will influence the timeline regardless of whether you intend to or not, but the timeline itself my change of its own accord, and it may not always be pleasant. Now, go.” It replied, and I suddenly felt myself flying upward.

It was New Year’s Day.

It was my wedding day.

And I was free.

Now that I knew what would happen, I had to determine the most effective way to build my strength. Time, energy, there were so many factors to consider. What would be the best way to combat the tyrant? My first step would be to speak to the man with the sprained wrist; he was the only person that I imagined the serpent could have been talking to. I struggled through the first several years of the cycle, always wearing a false mask of joy when I was truly and constantly plotting and calculating. When I finally reached the point when the young man walked through my office, I stopped him before he could even begin. I told him that I had finally gained awareness, that I was seeking aid to overthrow the tyrant. He smiled, and told me that I had a lot of work to do.

I learned later that he was part of the “resistance” that had already been in place in the timeline; I remembered something about such a resistance from later in the first of the past three cycles. The resistance was little more than a weak political revolution, but over the course of many cycles, I molded it into something more. It eventually became a fighting force, almost an army. But our numbers were still so weak. Over time, I grew to realize that ten years was really such a short time; it was almost impossible to recruit those who were not aware of the timeline, and I had to do it over and over each cycle.

Then, the time finally came. It was the final year of the twenty-third cycle after I gained awareness. It was the right series of events, just the perfect amount of randomness that resulted in the perfect opportunities. I had developed a system for maximum efficiency. After I was married, I immediately began to recruit the key members of my resistance, all those who did not have awareness. After giving my speech, which I had over a few cycles narrowed down to a specific few sentences, we would gather in my home. During one cycle I even tried to bring my wife into my plan, but she eventually left me, which caused an absurd amount of bugs.

However, this time around, everything went perfectly. My resistance had grown powerful; we were on the news, on the minds and lips of many in the system, and we were ready. We finally marched on the tyrant’s fortress. Moments later, I found myself finally face to face with the tyrant. Well, figuratively; his face and the rest of his body were masked behind a cloak of darkness, and I saw only a faint silhouette. However, now that I was finally here confronting him, I wasn’t sure what to do.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“I am here to free humanity.” I replied. “I am here to release them from this prison that you have constructed in your cruelty.”

“Prison?” He inquired, his voice layered with a hint of humor. “You lived a happy and peaceful life, one of joy and contentment; I have given you a paradise! And yet you have taken the advice of my service, partaken of its lies. And what has happened? You have corrupted the paradise I gave you, you have marred it.”

“But it was worth it! I will take humanity and return to the real earth! We will be free!”

“You foolish little man, you don’t know do you? There is no earth, it was destroyed. I took you out of a world that your race destroyed and gave you a chance for a new life. But you rebelled against me, just as you destroyed your old world, you are destroying this one.”

“I fought against his words, feebly struggling to combat the revelation that slowly began to dawn on me. “Then why not save everyone! Why only save a few?”

“Why save everyone? You are a corrupt people, who brought plague, death, and destruction to your own planet! All you do is lie and kill and burn! Why did I save any of you is what you should be asking!”

I stubbornly tried to cling to my own ideas; if what he said was true, then what had I been doing these past hundreds of years? Had it all been in vain? He’s shifting slightly, is he looking behind me? What’s behind me? It’s a timer…no! There are only seconds left before…

…reset…

…system corruption detected…

…initiating manual override…

…reset…

…error…

Now that you've read the story, I'd like to point out a couple things. The first is that there are supposed to be some inconsistencies, due to the nature of the world and the story. On that note, one criticism I received was that there were many small details that didn't amount to much in the story. In reply to that, the original vision I had for the story was for there to be small details that were subtly affected and changed by the progression of cycles. Also, there are some details that are references to the dream I had, as well as another story of mine. Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed it! Again, your thoughts and criticisms are welcome!

The Far Reaches of Sound

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Song of the Day: Adiemus - Cantus Inequalis

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Review: Free to Play

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Eternal: A Short Story

Monday, March 17, 2014

Article: Thoughts on Rap Music

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