Ten Again, A short story

This post is actually an entry for the fiction writing competition held by @kyrios .

I absolutely loved writing for this, as it made me tap into a lot of lost emotions. There are a few parts where I have added the feelings from my personal experiences from when I was a kid. I look forward to more of these challenges. I hope you enjoy the story.

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TEN AGAIN

I never really understood the real concept of happiness. In this world it’s meaning changes a lot. It’s like a trend where it takes on a different form in different weathers. In the midst of all this, money seemed to be a constant. Something that makes you happy always, or so I thought. I took up the job of an investment broker, had to work hard for it of course. Hundreds of parties, night outs, love - all sacrificed towards this single goal. I got dissolved into this money-making business so much that I wasn’t myself anymore. I had a house not a home, acquaintances not friends. I barely recognized myself. I did have a lot of money but no one to share either the money or my accomplishments with.

Breathing even in fresh air seemed like poison, so one day I found myself at the end of a ledge of a very tall building. I decided to take my life away and there was no hesitation in me, so I made the jump. Seconds before I touched bottom an image of my ten-year-old self flashed in front of my eyes. He extended his hand for me, there was a sparkle in his eyes and I wasn’t in distress anymore. As I hit the ground, I didn’t feel pain but I saw a blinding flash of white light.

I wake up, feeling a bit disoriented. Am I dead? I think to myself. Is this heaven?

“Mr. Wallace, I asked you a question, are you sleeping in my class?” asks an elderly man. Oh wait - he’s my science teacher. From when I was ten, wait what.

What is going on? I look at myself and within next couple of minutes I am not able to speak and a numbness overcame on my body. I am wearing my old school uniform and I look like a kid. But I’m 40. Am I dreaming? Hallucinating?

“James, is everything okay?” he says again.

“Yes, Mr. Gomez, I am fine. Sorry can you repeat that, please,” I say, still feeling like I’ll wake up any second now. Is this some really twisted version of hell? I mean, planting me in my ten-year old-version, one of the worst and helpless times of my life, and that too in the science class. Friggin’ awesome.

After an extremely weird day at school I come back home. Right, this was the year we lost all our money and had to move to a weird neighbourhood. A tiny house and all things just real crappy - and it’s not like my hormones were helping me.

“Honey why don’t you freshen up, I’ll fix you something to eat,” says mom.

It had been a long time since I saw her and I just freeze at the sight of her, I want to capture this moment in my brain and then I admire her for a couple of minutes. The way she loved me: unconditional and selfless. I felt so safe around her. A sharp pang of guilt stings me. I was never there for this woman when she needed me the most. Yes I sent the usual money to show my support but I am pretty sure she did not give a shit about that. All she wanted was to spend a moment or two with me.

“What is it honey? Aren’t you hungry?” she asks again and I just burst into tears.

“Mom I, I missed you so much. I love you”. Words just blurting out of me.

“You were gone only a few hours, darling, but yes I missed you too. Is there something bothering you?” she asks with that gentle look in her eyes and for a moment I think about what to say.

It’s not like I can tell her I’m 40 and I turned into a kid somehow - I just divert it into the money thing. I remember I used to throw so many tantrums and whine a lot when dad lost all the money. Man, I was a pain in the ass. Looking back at it, that never really changed.

“Mom, I’m just worried about our money problems.”

“Hey, how many times have I told you, you don’t have to worry about that? We’re your parents and we will take care of you no matter what.”

“Are you happy, Mom? I mean you were so used to maids and spas and what not.”

“Now James, I’m going to tell you something today and I need you to promise me that you’ll never forget about it.”

“Promise, mother.”

“I know that you’ve started to think that money is the solution and a fix to everything but you’re really wrong there, hon. Yes, it makes our lives easier, but it’s not the basis of it. People are running around, chasing it, and it’s not even the real thing. Our lives are about people, our lives are about the memories we make with those people. There is no way I’ll ever be unhappy as long as you and your father are with me. And we’re not poor because we have each other. There are people out there with house full of gold and hearts filled with misery, mirth and agony. Is that what you want out of life? Please, remember this. Everything is temporary, money, luxury. These are just added spices to the very real food that are people and love, that’s the essence of life,” she paused for a second, ”now speaking of food, how about some sandwiches?” she smiles at me and turns back into the kitchen.

I am such an idiot. All the things she said, I feel like I remember her saying this before. What a weird déjà vu. She always tried to get through to me, but I never listened. I was in such a hurry all the time that all the good, the real things evaded me. I need a do-over, please God, please let me have a do-over.

“He looks better than before. That beard though. Yikes.”

“Think he’s gonna wake up anytime soon?”

“Dunno, hope he does.”

I slowly open my eyes to the sound of muffled voices, flickering lights killing my retinas, to find myself in a hospital bed. Was that all a dream? I feel bitch of a pain all over my body but my heart finally felt a thousand kilos lighter.

I do not know what all of that was, all I do know is that it turned my life around. Yes I did get fired, which was the best thing to happen to me. I got the job of an accountant in a small company. I go out on Sundays now, enjoy a cup of ice cream. I feel content finally.

I got my do-over.

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^{Written by @things, 2017. All rights reserved.
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