Omega Point

By the time the sun had risen, Gemini was starving. Every five seconds, her stomach would announce its lack of food and demand that she supply it with a healthy dose of nutrition soon. She had been trying to muffle the sound for the past hour, covering her stomach in blankets, so as not to disturb Rasta Man who was sleeping beside her. Gentle snores erupted from the back of his throat every few seconds, serving as a reminder for Gemini to be quiet.

As time passed, Rasta Man’s snores got louder and Gemini’s stomach followed suit. She had just started to feel the first real pangs of hunger pain when Rasta Man bolted upright, breathing heavily. Gemini decided to wait a while before asking what was wrong. It wouldn’t help anyone if she jumped on him straight away. Everyone knew Rasta Man was not a morning person.

After a minute, Gemini grew tired of waiting and cut to the chase. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Rasta Man jumped in surprise at the sound of her voice and then ran a shaky hand down one of his dreadlocks. “The same one as always.”

Rasta Man had been having a recurring nightmare recently. He didn’t divulge the details to anyone, not even Gemini. She was afraid of the internal war he must be fighting if he was too afraid to share the innermost details in the workings of his subconscious.

Dreams were one of the reasons Gemini didn’t sleep.

“If you just told me what happened in your dreams, maybe I could help you?” Gemini inched closer to Rasta Man, leaning her head on his bare shoulder. “I may not dream but I could make you feel better.” She smiled up at his face, slanted from the angle she was tilting her head.

“You don’t want to know what this dream is about, believe me.” He brushed one of her hairs away from her face before moving away and standing up, stretching his arms towards to sky until he heard the crack of his spine realigning. He smiled lightly to himself, before turning back to Gemini and offering his hand.

She frowned up at him and helped herself stand, dusting off her pants before taking a few unsteady steps forward.

Gemini decided to ignore Rasta Man all the way to the all-mighty-soul-consuming-completely-corporate-but-altogether-necessary mega-centre. The cool, regulated air whispered past them as the pair entered the massive building. Outside was a blistering 120 degrees Fahrenheit, which translates roughly to 49 degrees Celsius.

As she wandered aimlessly down the aisles, observing all the different types of congealed mush, all the different flavours of rice pudding, all the different colours that aim to give you the feeling that you aren’t eating something that looks as though it’s already been eaten, she noticed that, once again, the temperature was at an astonishing high. Soon enough the death toll would rise – first, the elderly would go, unable to manage the heat in their fragile state, then the Pures and Naturals would start to fade away, followed eventually by the Ficials. It was practically Genocide.

Gemini wandered, eventually bumping into the man hired to watch over the inconsistent mush that was fed to them as food. She forced herself to blush and repeatedly apologised for her mindless clumsiness. The man continued to smile at her as she stuttered, trying to waste time so Rasta Man could grab them a meal. The man continued to smile, putting an arm around her to ‘help’ Gemini remain standing. A repulsed shiver ran down her spine as she considered the thoughts that could be running through that man’s head.

After a few minutes, she felt Rasta Man’s arm brush against the small of her back, signalling that now was the time to leave. Gemini apologised again and obeyed.

The gust of dry hot wind that blasted into Gemini’s face as she left the mega-centre was neither welcome, nor pleasant. Rasta Man was waiting for her in the shade beneath a large canvas sheet. Gemini decided she was still mad at him and walked straight past him, ignoring his presence.

They had made it half way back to their makeshift home without Gemini saying a word. She was good at holding grudges. Rasta Man tried everything to get her to smile at him. He even fell over on purpose, trying to get a smile out of her, frowning to himself as he rubbed the remnants of one of the burst packets of congealed mush off of his chest.

All too quickly, she stopped at the church she’d seen the day before. It seemed taller than yesterday, and she could have sworn the shadow was mocking her. Gemini took a few steps forward, before stopping on the small pathway, leading up to its pristine white walls. The cross on the door remained untouched since her last visit, and the small figure etched into it engraved itself into Gemini’s mind.

She continued forward and pressed her palm against it until it was flat. She held it there, taking deep breaths. She refused to be beaten by something that no one could prove existed. She refused to be afraid of something that could not affect her. She refused to be dwarfed by something that had no meaning unless you gave it a meaning. No longer would Gemini Agadez feel the need to slip into a panic attack because she had to cross a street with a church on it.

Those strong words meant nothing. By the time Gemini had finished her thoughts, she was covered in a cold sweat. She could feel her heart racing against her thin tank top. She could feel eyes watching her every move as the world started to spin around her.

Gemini heard hurried, heavy footsteps pound towards her, followed by the feeling of arms around her waist, pulling her away from the house of the holy. The arms turned her around until she was facing dark skin and the ends of dread locks. She was pressed into his chest while she sobbed to herself, muttering curse words while she cried.

‘Mierda, soy inútil,’ Gemini murmured into Rasta Man’s shoulder as he lifted her up so that her feet were not touching the ground, and carried her out of the gate, before setting her back down.

‘You’re not useless,’ he reassured her, smoothing her hair down.

‘I can’t even touch a church.’

‘You don’t need to touch the church.’

Together, they walked back to their home. Gemini had never felt so physically and mentally drained.

Once they arrived, she sat straight down and drifted off into a deep sleep for the first time in years.

It wasn’t peaceful – life for Gemini wasn’t peaceful in general, and her dreams were never an exception.

She was running down an empty hall, covered from head to toe in blood. She didn’t know where she was running or what she was running from. All she knew was that if she stopped, she would die. On the walls, those familiar words were painted in something that looked an awful lot like blood. God does not forgive the undesigned.