Reset switch

I did the one thing they’d told us not to. “Head toward the light.” The light grew. Blurred faces emerged from the mist.

“Are you okay?" asked a masked woman, “You’ve been out a while."

"Really... How long?" I was desperate to know.

"Three months," she replied.

"I-I don't remember anything."

"That's to be expected."

"W-w-what happened?"

"We're not really sure."

"I probably need to get going."

The foamy mist wafted past my face as I drifted down the hollow street, door slammed as my eyes adjusted. Searching for my previous life. There was a shadowed man leaning in the darkness, I saw him. He crept away.

I recognized him for some reason, "Wait! Who are you?"

He spoke politely for what he seemed to be. "I am Armstead, do you remember your name after your treatment?"

"Treatment? What treatment? And no, I don't."

"Your name is Brian Thawburn" he explained "It was a project which has taken years to perfect."

"Who performed the treatment?"

"Ummm, we’re not entirely sure," he replied. Something was wrong

"Okay, so, where do I go now?"

I was directed toward a hollow drive, shallow letters on the door and I was passed a single key. In the corner a grandfather clock stood, hands up, a victim. That’s what I felt like. I start to imagine things creeping around, dark, shapeless things. The old grandfather clock was on an angle, about to crash down. I need sleep.

And then I woke up. My back was stiff, the bed, lumpy with long months without love. As I rethought yesterday, suspicion crept in.

Walking out onto the street, I saw Armstead again, slumped in a new alleyway. Stepping along the pier I begun to remember. I hang my feet into grey crystal waters, memories competed to be flavored. A prominent one, the surprisingly emotional death of my hated wife, pushed hardest of all.

Rethinking the day, I finally had time to think about Armstead's it made me suspicious. "What really happened to me," I asked internally, "I need answers."

I dripped into a dream world, memories once again jostled for attention. I saw masked people injecting me, struggling to keep me down. A blue mist covered all. Why?

I had woken looking for answers. I'd developed a routine of jogging down a neighboring street, halting all thoughts, relaxing. It doesn’t seem right does it? Running from my previous self. Straight into the shower. The water enveloped me, steam clung to the mirror. On the wall a painting rested, it's signed 'Anna T. The name was familiar. Who’s Anna? I could picture her but I still didn't know who she is. There was a picture of her holding up a sign outside a skeleton of a nuclear power plant swarmed with busy high-vis ants. Why was I there?

I knew who to ask! I rush down the street once more, glanced around hopefully. Where is he?

I yelled his name until I got a response, it seemed to work.

"Yes?" I heard his muffled reply.

"Where are you?" As I said that, Armstead stepped out of a leafy doorway.

"What do you want?" he grumbled, I notice his voice is strange, gravelly almost.

"Who really drugged me?" I asked forcefully.

"Us," he replied carefully.

"Who?"

"Someone who needed something to be tested"

"Testing?"

"Don’t say I told you this, but there was a procedure to be tested."

I grew weary, "what kind of procedure?" He was being cautious, I had seen it in his eyes.

"A mind-wipe serum they’d learnt about," He finally exclaimed.

"Why’d they test it on me?"

He noticed the fear in my eyes, "To make sure it worked! They wanted someone to test it on and they needed you to stop with all the protesting. They see you as the leader, cutting you off from your riots would hopefully quieten it down a bit!"

Again I stepped into a wearied doorway, the clocks hands marched toward the truth, it was only a matter of time. I wandered through my scattered possessions. I’d found it, a photograph of this 'Anna.' I looked through the mirror at an empty shell of myself, it clicks. "I'm know Anna!" I exclaim, glee dances through my blood, “But how?"

I scroll through the pages until I find one labeled 'Anna Thawburn.” That must be her! I finally decided to delve deeper. I clicked on it and found a page of information almost blank, a beginning life story. She's a... Someone thumped on the door. It swung open. "Dad!"

"Anna?"

"Who else would it be? Mum?" she laughs.

"Anna!" Warmth flooded to my extremities.

I had found myself!

Now that I’m 60 and older than ever, searching for my life had been a hard task, but finding my daughter had been worth every step that it had taken.

-Ruben Kelly