A Spot In Time
A Spot In Time: It is 10am. I must have slept in, but wait a minute. What’s that on the wall? Is that Rihanna? When did I hang a picture of Riri on my wall? Yeah I like her and all but I have never been an obsessed fan. And who painted my room blue?
I jump off the bed and start towards the mirror – yeah! Thank God I’m still me. I spy at the room through the mirror and I was certain something had gone wrong. The room was blue (not like my teal and army green paint), the bed spread was Gucci (I have never liked designers), there were awards and plaques on a two-panel shelf, no photos of me except one sitting on the dressing table containing a Macbook Pro, a brown satchel, car keys, an envelope, a game pad and a… chill! The envelope! It is freaking addressed to me but I’m seeing Chicken In The Woods Road, Three Lakes, Wisconsin. What a funny name. But that’s definitely wrong because I stay in Ijesha – Ijesha is situated in Surulere, Lagos which is in Nigeria, in case you were wondering, and Wisconsin is definitely one of the fifty United States of America.
Something was definitely wrong. I walk up to the dressing table; pick up the envelope and tear it open. Inside is a flash drive.
Now this is getting interesting.
My life has been a freaking bore. This is such a welcomed distraction, whatever this is. I take out the flash drive and look at the Macbook, just sitting there beckoning to me to open it. I raise up the lid and the screen immediately lights up. There is a photo of me holding a Basketball. I look at the photo on the table and it is the exact same photo. I can’t remember taking this. I look back at the laptop.
Password!
I input the password I have used for virtually everything I owned for three good years – F.L.U.F.F.Y.
Why Fluffy? Well, if I get to the bottom of what’s going on I’d tell you the story of Fluffy. I promise.
The laptop is unlocked now and so I slot in the drive. A folder pops up on the desktop. I stare at the folder saved as ‘TIME’ for a while then stand up and head for the mirror again. This time I don’t look at myself but what I am putting on. Whatever is going on just got creepier. I am wearing an orange sweat pant (everyone who knows me know I hate orange), no top, a silver necklace with a pendant that looks like a crow, an army green Hublot on my left wrist and on my right, what? Is that a tattoo? When did I get a tattoo?
Now I am freaking out.
Where is my phone? I turn towards the bed, looking around the room. No sign of my phone. I walk to the bed and pick up the maroon duvet. No phone. I pick up the pillow and voila, there it is. But I use an Infinix, where did this iPhone come from?
I unlock it and see a barrage of missed calls and messages from unfamiliar names; four from Jo, two from Oliver, seven from Adelaide and one from Tiff with a heart. Who is Tiff and why did I save her name with a heart? The first message I open is that of Tiff with a heart and get more confused than I was when I picked up the phone. I’m sure you guessed quite like I did that Tiff must be short for Tiffany and we were probably an item. Well, the message I am looking at here isn’t looking like one from a lover.
URGENT. GLASS SHED. SUN BEHIND TRUNK.
Was I meant to understand that? Who the hell is Tiff? Where the hell am I and what the fuck is happening? I need answers.
I drop the phone and head to the dressing table to see what’s in the folder labelled ‘TIME’.
I hold the mouse and move the icon to the folder and click it twice…
Written by Professor Khocee Wilson-Ejikeme