Alternate Reality

I feel tired. We should head back and put away all of the gear. What do you think?

“Yeah, we caught plenty of them. I’m starving, can’t wait to grill these and get a piece. I’ll help you put away the stuff. Did you want to leave it at my house or at yours?

Let’s go to my place and we’ll have a cookout there.

I grabbed the wooden poles and chairs, then placed them on the back of the truck. My friend helped me with everything else. We put away our rifles and gear inside their case and got inside the truck. I drove a few miles before I came home. I grabbed the squirrels tied to the poles and placed them along the wall in the living room.

I looked outside through the metal mesh; my friend had the rifles in his hand. I felt someone approach me from behind. I turned around and greeted the stranger.

“You can’t be brining that shit inside here. You’re going to stain the walls,” he yelled.

I kept staring at him and asked myself, should I know him? He was right in front of me, living in my house, and telling me what I could do or not do. Something broke silence inside my mind. As if riddled by amnesia I began recuperating bits and pieces of memories hidden deep within my psyche.

He was wearing a blue Customs Enforcement Officer uniform. His blue shirt was neatly pressed and his BDUs fluffed as if he was ready to go to work. I looked down and stared at his side arm: a Glock model 22.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he yelled once again, but this time, his words were followed by a hard jab. I felt the force push me back, and so I reacted. Semi-cocked, I clenched my right fist and pushed it straight forward into the left of his jaw, sending him stumbling to the left. His head wobbled twice before it bounced off the wall.

Without even thinking I managed to get behind him and grab him into a chokehold with my left. My right arm simultaneously came crashing into his temple. I then let go and clapped both sides of his head with my hands in the open, disorienting him.

Disoriented, he staggered outside and reached for his side arm. There was no way he could use it. After having roughed him up that bad he was still in shock. But I couldn’t take that risk. I could see my friend on my peripheral, holding onto the rifles; his face fashioning astonishment as he couldn’t comprehend what was going on.

I reached into my vest and pulled out my trusty nickel plated 45 and only pulled it out so far before everything changed. Things were taking place so fast that those minutes seemed like taking place in slow motion. Every second that took place was a sequence of events that could never be replaced.

“Hey, hey calm down,” a different voice interrupted. It was my brother, holding my stepfather’s gun down. Once he regained his senses, he gave me a mean mug look and took off. He slammed the door to his Frontier and took off immediately.

My brother and dad had showed up at an almost magical time. Things would have been a lot different had they not been there to calm the explosive situation. My dad went up to me and grabbed me by the shoulder, then gave me a tight squeeze.

“How are you son?”

I’m okay, and you?

We talked inside while I prepared the meat. Father went to the back of the house to check out the long stretch of traps I had built to catch fish coming down from the river. My brother and I talked about so many things, but something seemed wrong. As he spoke, all I could hear was gibberish and then my sight began fading in and out.

I went outside to get some fresh air and talk to father but things felt odd. I thought that I might have been poisoned. But I felt fine; it was just that my senses were failing.

I must be dreaming.

“I see you caught a massive carp and a bunch more other ones down there,” my father bellied.

He was sitting down on an old rusty chair, carving the fish with his long hunting knife. I looked down at the traps and spotted a lot of fish. I tried counting them but they were too many. I flinched after spotting a rather odd fish. I rubbed my eyes to get a clearer view and still he was there. It was a giant fish with one huge eyeball in front of his head.

I felt my head spinning too fast so I sat down and closed my eyes. I opened them again. This time, my father had already carved a few fishes and laid them out on a plate.

“You should try them raw son, they taste delicious that way.”

Just like sushi? In that case, I want to try them all.

“Why all of them, is your ego that big that you can’t simply taste one?”

You know what, never mind. I don’t want any after all.

I got back on my feet and headed back towards the house, but at that very moment I reached out to grab the door handle, it all started fading away into a black swirl. Just like staring down the faucet as the water runs down. They were spirals of nothing but darkness, spinning clockwise into another dimension.

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2 comments

  1. Trent Lewin · August 18, 2015

    Haven’t checked out your poetry, I see you do a lot of that… but this bit of fiction is excellent. Surreal stuff – very much liked it.

    Like

    • Sinister Publications · August 19, 2015

      I’m glad you liked it.

      Liked by 1 person

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