Timeless

                The fir trees at the far end of the garden cast large looming shadows over the luscious green lawn. The brickwork path leading from the back door seemed not to go anywhere, but instead culminated in a spiral in the centre of the garden. Flowerbeds of all colours lay scattered, almost randomly, amongst the dull green of the shaded grass and the worn brown of the path that was once a sun-reflecting yellow. Keira had often gazed out at this almost neglected garden and tried to remember the beautiful haven it once was.

 

                The weeds had grown thicker since she last tended to the garden with her mother all those years ago. In the summer months only the lawn was ever trimmed and the forever blooming flowerbeds were only kept alive by Mother Nature. This day seemed somewhat special to Keira, however. Almost as if Mother Nature was telling her that today was the day she’d have to spend more time in this garden; more time than she has spent before.

 

                The small patch she’d eventually come to was a peculiar spot. She would often stare at this spot from the kitchen window, where the bed of blue hyacinths seemed to turn purple and small birds and insects would seem to disappear into thin air. This small corner of the garden seemed to always stand still. Even the flora needn’t much care or attention. This corner was constantly perfect. There was never any need for anyone to come to this part of the garden before, nor was there now, but it just seemed so perfect Keira wanted, no, needed to bask in its odd state of perpetual perfection.

 

                The hyacinths smelled so sweet, sweeter than she’d ever believed. The rest of the garden, the rest of the world seemed fast-paced and busy in comparison to the tranquillity of the ‘perfect spot’ in which she stood. Keira remembered thinking it’s almost as if time itself stood still. She instinctively knew she could relax here for an eternity looking around with her two feet fixed to the same point.

 

                An odd sight in amongst the crimson roses and the sweet-peas caught her attention; a small, grey stalk, a blemish on the coloured scenery. Keira knelt down clearing the flowers with her soil-coated hands to investigate the blemish, the abnormality of this otherwise perfect area. The grey stalk resembled a finger, a human finger and buried under the dirt a continuation of the finger led to a hand, and an arm, definitely human, cold and pale. More than a mere blemish, this abomination unto the ‘perfect spot’ provoked Keira’s curiosity. She obviously knew what this was, yet she wanted to be proved wrong. She obviously didn’t want to see it, yet needed to discover as much as possible for herself to be sure. After what seemed like an hour of panic and frustration but no more than a few minutes of work, Keira uncovered the physical outline of a dead human with its skin so pale, its natural heat nonexistent and its face so dirty. The face seemed extremely familiar. Female, definitely. But the frantic removal of more soil from this face was necessary, so that Keira could be absolutely certain of what she was looking at. This face she knew so well. This face she had seen every day, but only in a certain situation. Nothing could have prepared her for the idea that one day she would look down at her own corpse buried in the dirt.

 

                “Too soon.”

                A sudden voice came from behind her. Her head darted towards the origin of the voice, yet not wanting to detach her gaze from this odd and eerie sight underneath the sweet-peas. There, no more than a metre from where she was kneeling stood a man. Appearing in his late twenties, although his eyes told her he was older than that, he stood tall and thin in his black suit with his short black hair and stubble-ridden face clutching a black cane. Keira opened her mouth to speak but no sound came. The Stranger continued.

                “She was taken too soon, poor thing” he commented, almost apologetically.

                Keira’s befuddlement might as well have been written across her face. Finally she managed to verbalise.

                “Wh-who...?”

                “Who am I?” finished The Stranger, “That’s irrelevant. What has happened, however, is that you’ve stumbled upon this...”

                He paused, possibly looking for the right word to say. He rolled his eyes slightly as he sighed and finished.

                “...anomaly.”

                Keira’s confusion was only heightened with each word The Stranger uttered. He had a certain eloquence about him, speaking as if this situation was natural to him.

“You see Keira,” he continued. She dared not ask how he knew her name. “Time and space regularly coexist, yet there are aspects of the continuum, ‘bubbles’ if you will, where the two just...”

Again he looked for the right word to finish with.

“...collide. And it just so happens that this ‘bubble’ in which we are now,” he said, using his fingers as air-quotes on the word “bubbles” for the second time, “is, well, timeless.

“Everything that exists here will always exist. This part of space is without time, it’s fixed, it’s constant. And here you are.” The Stranger seemed to mutter those last four words in that same apologetic tone he used previously.

 

                Oddly, Keira seemed to trust this mysterious man more and more with every word he spoke, yet felt more and more unnerved with every second, or at least what felt like a second.

“I know everything that happens here.” He delivered his philosophy, “Everything that happens here is always supposed to happen. Whether it exists before or after your own perception of time, this always has to be.”

He paused briefly once more before using his apologetic tone again.

“You are always supposed to find yourself here. You are always supposed to-”, he broke off before composing himself to go on, “you’re supposed to die at this point.”

“B-but... how? Why?” Keira could only seem to whisper despite her mouth being wide open.

The sorrow in The Stranger’s face strangely complimented the shock and confusion in Keira’s. The Stranger closed his fingers around his cane.

“Because it has to be, no other reason, it just... is fact”, The Stranger eventually murmured, sorrowfully and pensive. “Look at her, so peaceful.”

 

                Keira, still kneeling, turned to look once more at her pale and lifeless reflection. Although within a second, or what felt like a second, she could see no more. Keira was blinded by a throbbing pain in the back of her head. She could feel herself falling and soon she would land on the soil-covered ground and on the body of her future self. But she didn’t. She didn’t land. She just remembered falling and falling until she stopped.

 

Seventeen Minutes Earlier.

 

                The fir trees at the far end of the garden cast large looming shadows over the luscious green lawn. The brickwork path leading from the back door seemed not to go anywhere, but instead culminated in a spiral in the centre of the garden. Flowerbeds of all colours lay scattered, almost randomly, amongst the dull green of the shaded grass and the worn brown of the path that was once a sun-reflecting yellow. Keira had often gazed out at this almost neglected garden and tried to remember the beautiful haven it once was.

Author's Note

This is the first short story I wrote and stemmed from a given task that I had to do as an entry piece to my University course. It's certainly not the best thing in the world but I'm a believer in not throwing away old stuff because it's nice to see how far I've come from it!