The awakening hc-1
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My fingers stretched out, reaching for the pillow, but I couldn't find it. Instead I felt something soft and damp. I tried to lift my head up, but it was filled with lead. It pounded relentlessly.
Then the rest of me began to follow suit, starting with a low ache and escalating into an intense throbbing. I tried to open my eyes, but they were slow and unresponsive. The strange material was all around me. It rubbed gently against my stomach, face, arms and feet. After an age my sluggish eyes rolled open and through my blurry vision I saw that I was not in bed at all. I was face down in grass.
Using all of my strength I used my jelly arms to drag my aching body upright. After three tries, I was able to stand up onto spaghetti legs.
Only the briefest glance made it clear that I’d woken up in Providence Park.
My head thrummed and I clasped at it, rubbing furiously in a desperate attempt to blot out the pain. Eventually it subsided enough for me to focus.
The sky was a blend of orange and grey. The rising sun locked in battle with the winter clouds. An icy breeze traced the contours of my skin. The park was empty apart from a pair of joggers on the far side, dressed in matching blue tracksuits.
How the hell did I get here?
I tried to remember what happened the night before, but my brain wouldn't play ball. It only made my headache worse. I stopped trying to think too much. Instead I concluded I must have sleepwalked. It was the only possible explanation for my makeshift bed. Looking down at my trembling body, the theory faltered. I was wearing someone else’s clothes. A simple pair of grey jogging bottoms and white vest, but definitely not mine. All I cared about now was getting home. I staggered forward, only managing a few steps before collapsing.
Gritting my teeth, I stood up again. I wobbled like a drunk on my bare feet, taking baby steps so that I could remain upright. The aching worsened, aggravated by my stubborn movements.
I felt broken. Every part of me smashed beyond repair. But I carried on, step by step, until after an eternity, I’d made it through the gated exit and onto the pavement which followed the main road through town. I noticed a phone box across the road. It stood proud, offering it's salvation to those who could reach its graffitied glass doors.
I dug for change in the jogging bottoms. No luck. Reverse the charges, managed to squeeze through the dagger stabs in my brain. My head lolled from side to side as I vaguely checked for traffic. Meanwhile the throbbing in my body grew into a roaring crescendo of agony. With each boom in my temples, bright flashes of yellow burst into my eyesight. It felt like I could pass out at any moment. So focusing my squinting eyes on the telephone box, I stumbled into the road, arms outstretched like a toddler reaching for its mother.
Straight into the path of a speeding car.
I heard the sound of tyres locking, mixed with a bloodcurdling scream which sliced through my ears like a blade. My head turned in time to see a silver hatchback trying to veer around me just a little too late. Its back end skidded out and swung at me like a sledgehammer. There was no time to move. I closed my eyes and waited for the impact.
The morning calm was pierced by the inhuman smash and screech of twisting metal, followed by the tinkle of thousands of cubes of glass pattering onto the road like hailstones. Then the angry hiss of a dying engine. The kind of sounds you only hear when something very bad has just happened. All I could feel was something cold wrapped around my lower body.
Am I dead? I wondered, eyes still squeezed shut. If I was, this wasn’t how I had expected it to be. There were no snapshots of my life, no white light to enter into.
My skin goose bumped from the frosty embrace of the unknown object. Whatever it was, it was holding on for dear life. I inched my eyelids apart. What I saw defied all logic.
The car was a steaming wreck, wrapped around my body.
At the impact point just behind the driver's door, it had caved around me, into a rough V shape. Steam poured in dark clouds from the exposed engine. The rear wheels had buckled and folded in on themselves, causing the car to sink down at the back. All the windows were smashed from the force of the impact.
It was the sort of result you would expect from a head on collision with a solid wall, not a seventeen year old kid. I looked down at my body, fearing the worst.
I didn’t have a scratch on me.
Straining, I prised myself free of the car’s steely grip. The metal groaned in protest.
I turned and stared at the wreckage, my mouth a wide O. The look was mirrored by the young, fair haired woman who crawled across the driver’s seat and flopped out of the passenger side. She staggered around and slumped against the twisted chassis next to me.
“Oh my god!’ she breathed. “Are-are you okay?” She glanced at me and then back at her destroyed vehicle. “How… how did you…how are you…? I was going fast. Oh no…maybe too fast… I didn't see you in time, you…”
Her words dissolved into a hysterical panic attack and she slid down onto the ground, sinking her head into her knees. I watched her frame expand and shrink again and again as she hyperventilated.
As I gazed around in a shock, a crowd gathered. People on their way to work stopped and drivers, not content with rubber necking, pulled over their cars and got out.
I saw one man pull out a phone from his pocket and make a call, presumably 999.
Everyone had the same look on their face, a combination of confusion and disbelief. They knew that I should be lying in a crumpled heap twenty feet away.
They knew I should be dead.
All I knew for certain was that I didn't want to be here.
I took a step forward, my legs feeling much more solid than they had a minute ago. The girl looked up at me, realising my intentions.
“N-n…” she wheezed and flailed out an arm to stop me. I ignored her and stumbled away from the crash in the direction of home. “Hey son, come sit down,” suggested an overweight man in jogging bottoms. “You might be hurt,” said an elderly lady with purple rinse hair. They were all closing in on me, offering their own opinions of post collision aftercare.
I saw the man with the phone weave towards me, his hand stretched out in my direction. He signalled for me to stop, all the while talking in rushed bursts to the person on the other end.
I turned and ran.
I ran as fast and as hard as I could, snaking through the gathering crowd. They called out and made weak efforts to stop me as I darted past. The strangest thing was, even though I felt confused, all of my aches had gone and my head felt crystal clear.
My bare feet slapped hard against the pavement and I pushed myself faster. All I could think about was escaping the confusion and getting home. The shop fronts whipped past, changing to houses and rows of bushes as the area became more residential. I pushed harder and the scenery became lines, blurs of colours that ran parallel to me, shifting in size and shape. Then I skidded to a stop as I recognised where I was. For the second time my mouth dropped open.
I was home.
I stared, refusing to believe my own eyes. There was no way that I could have arrived so fast. It took me fifteen minutes to drive and that was at full speed. I’d just run the distance in less than five. But no matter how many times I blinked, the red bricked semi with the white window frames and leaking drainpipe was still there.
I didn't know what to think. First waking up in the park in someone else’s clothes. Then the car wreck. Now this. It was too much. I felt like I was going insane.
I needed to see my family, see something normal.
Rushing up the driveway, I noticed that Mum and John’s car was missing. I prayed that someone was in.
As I neared the door, my strength began to fade again. The dull throb started back up and the ache swept through my body. It felt like I was wading through water.
“What is going on?” I screamed. No one answered. A dog barked from somewhere down the road.
I slapped my hand against the wall, and then used it to steady my
self as I stretched up to the hidden ledge above the front door and felt around for the spare key. My fingers were shaking as I jiggled the lock open and half fell through the door.
“Hello?” I croaked. “Anyone?”
Silence.
I swiped the door closed too hard, jumping at the sound. I called out again as I shuffled to the lounge, using my hands to keep me upright as my legs dissolved into water. On the far left was the couch. It looked soft and inviting. I was confused and terrified, but nothing could have stopped me from resting on it.
I fell into it and sighed as its welcoming overstuffed cushions wrapped around me.
After a few seconds I was sound asleep.
The sound of the front door closing woke me. My eyes snapped open, alert and clear. The light from the window had been replaced by the unnatural glow of the streetlamps outside. I swung myself upright and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. A few seconds later Mikey walked into the lounge. He caught sight of me and swore loudly. “Alex is that you?” He moved over to me and peered close, like I was a caged animal. I swatted him away, not in the mood for games. “Of course it’s me idiot. Who did you think?” He drew back and raised his eyebrows. “But you look…different.”
Fear rocketed through me. What does he mean different? Has the accident done more damage than I realised? I swallowed and pointed a shaking finger towards a flamboyant mirror that sat on top of a side table.
“Pass me that” I said.
Mikey grabbed the mirror and handed it to me. I breathed in deep, expecting the worst. Then I looked and gasped. Staring back from the glass was me, but a superior version.
My spots had gone. Instead my skin was smooth and no longer anaemic white. My jaw line looked stronger and my eyes gleamed as if they had been scrubbed. Even my hair had lost its coarseness, looking more like Mikey’s now than my own.
As I opened my mouth in shock, I noticed that my teeth were whiter and less uneven than they had been before. As I prodded and poked at my face, Mikey asked a question which sent a shiver down my spine. “Alex, where the hell have you been?” I lowered the mirror to my lap and stared up at him, eyebrows knitting together. “What do you mean?” He put a hand on my shoulder and crouched down so he was level with me. “You’ve been missing for three days.” “No,” I breathed, suddenly feeling very dizzy. I shook my head. “No. That can’t be right.” He stood up again and picked up the television remote. “What day do you think it is today?”
I thought about the night before. It hurt my head to try and remember, but I managed to catch fleeting images of us all watching a film together. That had been the day that I’d confided in Gabriella. I thought about the lessons I’d had before lunch. That had been a Wednesday. Therefore today must be:
“Thursday,” I said with confidence.
Mikey shook his head, looking concerned. He flicked the television onto Satellite. The blue bar popped up below the program and my eyes went wide as I read the date.
Sunday November 18th
“No…” I whispered.
Mikey switched the television off and threw the remote onto the couch next to me, before sinking down into the adjacent chair. He was wearing tracksuit bottoms. They crinkled against the seat as he settled in.
“So where have you been?” he repeated.
I buried my head in my hands. “I don’t know.”
Mikey leaned forward, raising his voice. “What do you mean you don’t know? How in Christ’s name can you not know? Do you think this is a joke? Mum and Dad have been going out of their minds. Especially Mum, she has been acting mental. Calling up anyone she could think of who may’ve known where you were. She even called the Police. She was convinced something terrible had happened to you! Dad thinks you ran away. You didn’t even take your phone! You — argghh!” He threw up his hands in exasperation.
Tears of frustration were spilling onto my hands. I wiped them away and looked up at my half-brother. When I spoke, my voice sounded thick and throaty.
“I really don’t know Mikey. You need to listen to me. Something weird is going on.”
I told him everything I knew. About waking up in Providence Park in strange clothes, about the accident and running home way too fast. When I had finished, he folded his arms across his chest. “Bollocks.” “Mikey I’m telling you the truth. I mean look at me. How do you explain my extreme makeover?” He nodded, thinking. “Okay, prove it.” “How?” Mikey jumped up and headed for the door. “Put something on your feet and meet me outside.”
I ran upstairs into my room. Everything was as I remembered it. Nothing had changed, except that my normally neat bedcovers were screwed in a heap at the end of the mattress. Also someone had cleaned out the bin.
Stopping at the mirror, I had another look at myself. My full length reflection showed that the subtle changes hadn’t been limited to my face. For one, I seemed taller, even though I was sure I hadn’t grown. It was like I carried myself better. Taking off the top showed the rest. I was still slim, but underneath my skin were the faint definitions of muscles. I tensed a bicep and was shocked to see a respectable sized lump appear. Overall, the changes weren’t drastic but still noticeable. Like I’d become an alternate version of myself, who’d spent his life dedicated to health and fitness. Not knowing what to think, all I could do was shake my head in wonder.
I threw the grass stained vest in the wash basket and changed into an old hoodie and a pair of trainers. As I headed for the door, I noticed my phone lying on the desk.
I’ll check it later.
A few minutes later we were standing on the street, illuminated by the overhead glow of a streetlamp. They continued all the way down the road at even distances, casting little pools of orange onto the pavement. Mikey pointed into the distance. “Run down to the fifth light and back and I’ll see how fast you are.” I couldn’t see any reason to object, so I turned and faced the gloom, waiting for his signal. “GO!” he shouted and I sprang forward as he was still finishing the word.
My trainers slapped mercilessly against the pavement as I sprinted forward. For some reason, it didn’t feel fast enough; I was still moving at a normal pace. “Come on!” I shouted at myself.
Then something happened, a mental switch flicked inside my brain. Everything went into overdrive. I could hear the steady thumping of my heart and the pounding of the blood swimming around my temples. The thuds of my soles hitting the concrete sounded like echoing booms. The Streetlights flashed past and I had to remind myself to stop as I rocketed past the fifth. Hopping around on one foot, I turned and charged back. Mikey was just a little blob in the distance, but as I rushed forward, slipping in and out of the light, he grew until he was a full size teenager. I could see his face, frozen in shock. Then I was past him, skidding to a halt about twenty yards further up the road. The strange sensation stopped as fast as it had started. I was barely out of breath as I reached my half-brother.
He stared at me and blinked.
“So how did I do?” I asked, anxiously rubbing the back of my neck.
He made a spluttering noise and backed away from me. “I–I don’t know what to say. That was impossible! No one can run that fast!” He pointed to the spot next to him. “When you passed me you were a blur. I mean seriously, you were a blur Alex!”
“Okay not so loud!” I hissed and tried to pull him towards me. Instead, he went sailing past and flew to the ground, sliding along the pavement.
“Mikey”! I gasped, running towards him. He groaned and rolled over.
“Oh crap! Are you okay?”
He nodded. I was afraid of what might happen if I tried to help him up, so I let him stand by himself. Apart from a graze on his left hand he appeared unharmed.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Oh god, what’s happening to me?”
“Relax, I’m fine,” he assured me, dusting himself down. Then he smiled. “I guess we can put a tick next to super-strength. Guess that would explain the car crash.” A thought came to me
. “The car crash! I bet it’s on TV!” We both ran back into the house and piled into the lounge. I switched on the local news and waited. The headlines and even filler news came and went. Nothing about a crash. Mikey looked at me and shrugged as I powered off the set. “Maybe they didn’t report it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mikey, I was hit by a car doing at least fifty. It folded in half and I walked away without a scratch. In what world would that not be news?” I sat down on the couch and rubbed a hand against my head. “None of this makes any sense.”
The sound of a car rolling into the drive caught my attention.
“Mum and Dad,” said Mikey stating the obvious.
Somehow telling them seemed like a mistake. I stood up and walked close to my half-brother. I whispered as if afraid my parents would be able to hear through the outside wall. “Mikey, I don’t want you to tell them anything okay? Let’s keep this between me and you.” He arched his eyebrows. “Where the hell are you going to say you’ve been?” I wasn’t sure. “I’ll think of something, just back me up okay?” He stared at me. “Please?” He sighed. “Fine.” I clapped him on the shoulder, making sure to be gentle. “Thanks.”
The engine rumbled to a stop and I heard the thunk of doors slamming, followed by a clatter of keys in the lock. “Hello?” Mum called as the front door clicked shut. “Mum, Dad, in here! Guess who’s back?” called out Mikey. Mum and John came rushing into the lounge. “Hi,” I said awkwardly as they appeared, actually waving at them.
“Alex! Oh my boy!” sobbed Mum and ran over, wrapping her arms around me. “Don’t ever scare me like that again!” As she held me close, I rested my head into the crook of her neck. There was nothing quite like a mother’s comforting to make all of your troubles disappear. Looking up brought me back to reality with a bump.
John had held back, his thick arms folded across his even thicker chest. He was eyeing me suspiciously. “Where in the bloody hell have you been? Your Mother has been going out of her mind with worry!” he growled. “And what’s with the makeover?” He gestured his hand towards me.