Five days had passed by. According to his watch anyway, though how long that was within the constructs of physical reality was anyone’s guess. The stage had been set and the actors slotted into their designated roles. Now it was just a case of playing out their respective parts.
The level of craft and detailed complexity required to recreate such familiar surroundings was astonishing. The smooth finish of the table kitchen. The walkway into the living room where the couch rested up against the wall near the window. The cuckoo clock that sat above the wash basin where yesterday’s crockery soaked overnight. The intricacies were incredible. Even down to the ambient sweet smell of lavender and lemongrass wafting throughout the house. This was where he belonged, he thought. This was home.
James studied his hands with a curious intrigue. The rough texture of manliness now gone. The extra lines, creases and skin folds he had grown so used to observing over time, had all but vanished. In it’s place, the unblemished contours and definition of a child's. He had passed fingers along his hairless arms countless times already but the odd sensation it produced never seemed to grow old. This blanket of secure, blissful comfort engulfed him.
He glanced up at the clock on the wall. A few minutes to nine in the morning. She would be getting changed now, readying herself for the day ahead and all those precious hours to spend with the love of her life, with her James. This is how it was going to be. Just as it was yesterday and the day before that. Since the moment he succumbed to the needle's strong sedative administered by Dr. Grey, in fact. He attempted to push back onto the wooden chair he was sitting in, only to press into thin air with his feet. The petite stature of his new body would take some getting used to, the thought, grinning.
The most surprising aspect of all was how clear he envisaged everything before. Dolores, Dr. Grey, the supermarket fiasco, everything remembered in vivid subliminal thought. Though he was under no false pretences about where he was or what had happened to him. In fact, he had never embraced such clarity and awareness before. He scanned the room once more in awe. The replication of how he remembered things that final day was inconceivable. Yet so magnificently realised before him now.
His mind wandered to that of his beloved Dolores. Images flashed by of what could be happening on the outside. He envisioned her perched upon a metal chair next to the bedside, cradling his hand in her's over the bed sheet. Possibly crying, if her tears had not yet exhausted. If there was one thing he had learnt throughout the years spent living with her, it was that she truly did love him. Maybe in her own unique and distinctive way, but it was real. That was the hardest part of all. Leaving her behind.
But he reasoned another way. If this idyllic setting had been recreated with such unabashed realism and beauty, then so too could he conjure his Dolores. The three of them, living together in perfect harmony. But process in which this would be achieved could wait for now. He had time. And plenty of it.
James shook his head and giggled like a child. Which is exactly who he was now. A helpless, innocent child given a miraculous second chance to right all wrongdoings of the past. Moments of pure unadulterated joy, only to be replayed over and over again as dusk falls and dawn breaks. Indefinitely. How could he ever tire of such a thing, he wondered.
The sun shone through the faded, cream curtains in the living room. Giving the whole room a dulled, ethereal feel. Just the way he recalled that fateful day. He winced at the thought of his stupidity. How such a complete lack of knowledge could so cloud one’s understanding. The fight he put up against himself. Against his one true saviour. Trying in desperation to blot out something that should have been the most natural occurrence of all. Something to be savoured. His rebirth.
He felt some level of self-loathing for what he had put himself through. This incredible gift bestowed upon him, only to be kicked and shunned by the dimwit he saw himself as. When all this time, he was in the throes of being cured. Of shedding his former life to return to the womb of safety from where he sprung. The blockchain embedded within his brain, pushing to self-right all the mental scarring he had endured for many long years. Offering up this secluded sanctuary where he and his digital track could work as one. Formulating a time in his life where everything was simply perfect. He brought his hand up to his eyes and swiped away tears that were about to be shed. A man’s mind in that of a child’s body. Yet it could not have felt more right.
A noise alerted his attention. Soft thuds echoed out as someone walked the floors above him. She’s awake, he thought with a smile. A split second brought forth the demon’s visage before his eyes, who had invaded his subconscious and transformed her into something hideous snatched from his worst nightmares. But he cast the image away not a moment sooner. He understood the workings of the machine in the background. The answer was not to fight back, but to work together. The extreme force used by his subconscious to hit that message him was in actuality a blessing in disguise. The truth was revealed and he knew what needed to be done for his part. Dr. Grey was a madman searching for the solution to a condition where the answer lay hidden away within himself all along. If anything, he wanted to pay his respects to the technology that allowed this very existence to place take place. Those three solitary microchips operating in unison to bring about this place of paradise.
And he loved it. For being granted the greatest gift he could ever have wished for.
A figure made it’s way down the familiar flight of stairs, casting a shadow upon the living room wall. As she approached, he ran a hand through his tousled, silky hair. The energy of youth flowing through his veins. He beamed at the dark silhouette standing in the doorway, watching him.
