Something Is Coming: Pt 1

Have you ever carried out your usual day-to-day life and still felt something was absolutely wrong. Looking around, everyone was so caught up in life that it seemed so frustratingly uncomfortable. People stood around all day rest assured we will always have tomorrow and it slowly started to sicken me. I lost sleep contemplating the worst thoughts in my head to make sense of the nauseating sense of fear I continuously felt in the pit of my stomach. After countless sleepless nights, I looked for help, for in my heart of hearts I knew something was coming and there was no way I was going to let others suffer for my incompetence. 

I thought I could control "that" part of myself that was hidden within the deepest parts of my mind and yet, they claw at me, gnawing for a way out. See, I am what humans call "different" yet I see no difference. We all came from the same place but whether humanity has forgotten their past is their choice but some of us choose to remember. The few of us that do remember, we know something far greater than anything the universe has ever known is coming and we are the only ones who can sound the alarm. 

The question is, when? While the rest of the world had their memories wiped clean, will we be courageous enough to be the ones to reveal the past that they are all cowards to face? We know the cost of this mission but we cannot let the world suffer. There was one person I knew that always helped. He was a bit intense for most people but, as we have already established, I am not like most people. His name was Holden Clementine. I called him Firefly due to an incident we ran home late and an unfortunate firefly went into his nose. We lost touch a couple years ago after he disappeared for an unknown reason.

 A year ago, I received a blank post-card from New Orleans and my first thought was Firefly. Why? I will never know but I intended to get help and he was my best bet. He always understood me so I have high hopes that he will have an open mind about this. Plus, that bozo owes me an explanation on why he left me without writing or saying goodbye. After a few hours passed, I had grabbed all my bags and filled them with everything I would need for at least 2 weeks. As I get in my car and drive for about 30 munites I start to get cold feet on the whole situation. Yes, he was my best friend (well, more like the only friend I had) but a lot changes over 5 years.

 What if he left for a reason and doesn't want to see me? What if I was the reason he left? What if he forgot me? Most importantly, what if he doesn't believe what I tell him? Will I have to relive that traumatic feeling of being alone night after night with no one to turn to? Does he know what happened the day he left? Flashes of that day emerge in my mind relentlessly, forcing me to remember what I am longing to forget. The blood, the pain, the voice.

 That low bone-chilling voice that reassured I wouldn't live to see another day. If it wasn't for that stranger, I would have been dead. I still wonder who that was but people took for me for crazy when I mentioned the third person. They told me I was lucky to be alive. They told me it was normal to have my memory fogged up but I know what I saw. One day, I will find that person. Until then, I must look ahead and fix this problem before I focus on another. Holden, I hope you're still in New Orleans. I am coming and I need you now. If I am going to defend the world from whatever is coming, I need you ready and at my side.

Author's Note

Comment if I should do a part 2