‹ Prequel: Blind Photographs
Status: Updates every other day
Destination Detonation
Points of Reversion
“Hey, Photo, we found something that used to be yours. It won’t mean much now, but once you start remembering everything it should make sense,” Fun Ghoul said, handing me a purple piece of cloth.
“It’s your old bandana, we found it when we were looking for you.” I took it carefully. “You wore it like a blindfold when you had bad vision, but since that looks like it’s cleared up now I guess you don’t really need it anymore, but you can still wear it,” he finished awkwardly, rocking back and forth on his feet.
A man in a wheelchair rolled into the room then. He had a bandana too, but it was across his forehead and not his eyes.
“Good to see you again, motor baby,” he greeted casually.
“I thought you said I was called Photo?” I asked Fun Ghoul, confused.
“No, see, motor baby is just a term. Like sweet heart or something.” I nodded.
“You’re going to help me remember?”
“I’m going to try. Music didn’t work, have you eaten anything since you got here?”
I thought about it.
“Nope.” He tossed me a can of Power Pup. “Dog food? Really?”
“It’s what we’ve got. Have you had any withdrawal symptoms?”
“Not that I know of.” I said, banging the can on the counter in an attempt to open it.
“But you don’t remember anything.”
“I remember being in the city when Grace was still there too, and then there’s a gap, and then I was in the city just before.”
“So that’s the deciding point, then. Growing up there is just automatically where you revert to until you get drugged again.”
“I guess, yeah. Hah!” I exclaimed triumphantly as I finally managed to crack the can like an egg, and the contents splattered across the dusty counter.
“Oh…” I then proceeded to eat what was left in the can with my fingers, quickly getting over the fact that it was dog food because I knew that it was probably the only edible substance in this place.
“Feel any different?”
“Nope.” I looked around again, this time up towards the ceiling.
Eighty tiles, four moldy spots, seventeen splotches of something and three little coppery spots from crushed bugs. Not interesting.
“This hasn’t ever happened before so I really don’t know what we should even try.”
“Here,” The Kobra Kid said, taking the purple bandana from around my neck and tying it over my eyes.
“We’re just going to try something.”
He took my hand and led me out into the desert before stopping and telling me to sit down.
“Just think. Feel all this around you? This is what our life is. It can change so much in an instant, like the acid rain to the cold night. This is who you are. Listen for a minute. Don’t ask questions, just sit and feel the sand, alright?” I nodded.
“You started out in the city, like you remember. Then it all started to shift when a group called The Meds took you out of the city and brought you out here, like we are now. You liked it there well enough.”
My fingers played with the sand as his voice carried through the day. I could almost see them, how he was describing everything.
“…21, making your way all the way back to California with the Ghosts. They lost you when you went into the city to rescue one of their own and that’s when you got your second tattoo.”
I leaned against his shoulder, nodding slowly. I could feel the ink being shot into my skin, watching even a different version of myself fight against a metal chair with rings that held her-
Me,
I reminded myself- back.
“It’s your old bandana, we found it when we were looking for you.” I took it carefully. “You wore it like a blindfold when you had bad vision, but since that looks like it’s cleared up now I guess you don’t really need it anymore, but you can still wear it,” he finished awkwardly, rocking back and forth on his feet.
A man in a wheelchair rolled into the room then. He had a bandana too, but it was across his forehead and not his eyes.
“Good to see you again, motor baby,” he greeted casually.
“I thought you said I was called Photo?” I asked Fun Ghoul, confused.
“No, see, motor baby is just a term. Like sweet heart or something.” I nodded.
“You’re going to help me remember?”
“I’m going to try. Music didn’t work, have you eaten anything since you got here?”
I thought about it.
“Nope.” He tossed me a can of Power Pup. “Dog food? Really?”
“It’s what we’ve got. Have you had any withdrawal symptoms?”
“Not that I know of.” I said, banging the can on the counter in an attempt to open it.
“But you don’t remember anything.”
“I remember being in the city when Grace was still there too, and then there’s a gap, and then I was in the city just before.”
“So that’s the deciding point, then. Growing up there is just automatically where you revert to until you get drugged again.”
“I guess, yeah. Hah!” I exclaimed triumphantly as I finally managed to crack the can like an egg, and the contents splattered across the dusty counter.
“Oh…” I then proceeded to eat what was left in the can with my fingers, quickly getting over the fact that it was dog food because I knew that it was probably the only edible substance in this place.
“Feel any different?”
“Nope.” I looked around again, this time up towards the ceiling.
Eighty tiles, four moldy spots, seventeen splotches of something and three little coppery spots from crushed bugs. Not interesting.
“This hasn’t ever happened before so I really don’t know what we should even try.”
“Here,” The Kobra Kid said, taking the purple bandana from around my neck and tying it over my eyes.
“We’re just going to try something.”
He took my hand and led me out into the desert before stopping and telling me to sit down.
“Just think. Feel all this around you? This is what our life is. It can change so much in an instant, like the acid rain to the cold night. This is who you are. Listen for a minute. Don’t ask questions, just sit and feel the sand, alright?” I nodded.
“You started out in the city, like you remember. Then it all started to shift when a group called The Meds took you out of the city and brought you out here, like we are now. You liked it there well enough.”
My fingers played with the sand as his voice carried through the day. I could almost see them, how he was describing everything.
“…21, making your way all the way back to California with the Ghosts. They lost you when you went into the city to rescue one of their own and that’s when you got your second tattoo.”
I leaned against his shoulder, nodding slowly. I could feel the ink being shot into my skin, watching even a different version of myself fight against a metal chair with rings that held her-
Me,
I reminded myself- back.