Chapter 1: The Path Ahead
I walk down a narrow path, letting the wind brush past my hair, this path was filled with Blood Red rose bushes, blooming and beautiful.
Just as I near the end someone emerges from the Bushes, his arms were bleeding with the rose colour and his face was hooded.
The Man started limping towards me and stops right in front of me.
He pushes me out of the way but he trips over my foot, he falls and lays there unconscious.
I pull out my phone and call 1-1-1
“1-1-1 what’s your emergency,” A male operator says
“A man just fell unconscious at 49 greenfield road Howick, Auckland, New Zealand”
“Were sending men now” He says as I hang up.
I sit down and stare at the wondering why he was hurt so badly.
I hear sirens echo down my street and a screech halts outside the park.
“Where is the man?” a man asks.
“He’s right in front of you, can’t you see him?” I ask
“Is this a sick joke?” Another man says “There is no one in front of us.”
The man gets up and grabs my arm. I close my eyes and feel a gust of wind pour past my face.
My eyes slowly open and we are met with a brand new modern home.
“Acdio” The man shouts, all his cuts and bruises start to disappear until there is nothing left.
“H-How did you do t-that,” I say stuttering nervously.
“Come with me and I will explain.” He says as he walks into the house.
I stumble after him and enter, the house has the fresh and beautiful scent of lavender and roses combined into a sensational smell.
He closes the blinds and stands in the middle of the room
“Stand close,” He says, I walk over to him and cling onto him.
“Aleio” He shouts as a blue spiral of light beamed out of his hands and exploded like a firework.
The room was now filled with a family tree. I looked at him in amazement.
“What’s your name,” the man says
“Alex Postey” I say proudly “and what’s yours”
“Oliver Huffle” He says
“Well anyway, Postle search for Alex Postey” Oliver shouts. The blue light starts spinning until it comes up with my name.
It read.
“Alex Postey, a 3-month-old baby died in a fire when his parents were out, the babysitter was smoking and put his cigar on the couch while still lit. He managed to get away and kill Alex”
Oliver acts panicked and started searching my name again and again with no different result.
“But you can’t be dead, you are literally in front of me,” Oliver says.
Something in my brain clicked, I was NOT dead nor was the babysitter.
“Take me back to that memory”
Suddenly we were in a house, old and rundown but still warm and cozy. We crept upstairs and stared at my baby self.
The babysitter walks in and takes me away and exits the front door. He enters his car and drives off while the rest of the house was on fire.
We were now back at the original modern house. I was still clinging to the man and he was hugging me.
“I’m so sorry Alex, the babysitter took you and is now pretending to be your father.” I start to cry in his arms.
“I don’t know who or what you are but thank you for showing me this”.
