Donnie drifts away from reality during English class, and rapidly becomes immersed within a dark epiphany, which reveals to him the devastating truth of his future as the Living Receiver.
A/N: My family and my fanbase, this is sincerely dedicated to you. Thank you so much for your invaluable support and ideas. Throughout the writing process you were all, collectively, on my heart and mind. You are truly the inspiration for all of this.
I have been hoping for over a year to create a story that explains some of the narrative of Richard Kelly's original film, which, whilst brilliant, is renowned for being incredibly complex. Hopefully, my side plot will help to build some all-important context into the beautiful, yet bizarre universe of Donnie Darko. Enjoy.
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Click.
Click.
Click.
As the sound of the second hand began to register in Donnie's mind, it became apparent that his concentration had failed him once more. In fact, concentration was rapidly becoming the wrong word for his frequent losses of contact with the real world around him. It really wasn't Mrs Pomeroy's class that was causing his mind to drift away (since he found her book studies surprisingly engaging), rather the fault of his strange connection with a parallel universe that transcended reality.
Fleeting snippets of thought, of science, of cause and effect, ran through his complicated young mind. Donnie observed them carefully from the outside, unable to process them simultaneously. Careful attention was devoted to dreams of a stable family, a brand new bicycle, and even of a better America, a world in his head where corruption, greed, and prejudice didn't exist. Most of all, he dreamed of time spent with Gretchen, falling deeper in love with this strange, enigmatic beauty the more his mind paid attention to her.
Captured by the depth of his own imagination, Donnie settled into an unfamiliar state of complete calm. That made for a pleasant change, he thought. Positivity never came so easily for an awkward teenager who seemed to stick out like a sore thumb from the rest of society.
Doctor Thurman's voice snapped abruptly into his mind, labelling him paranoid schizophrenic. But what did she know anyway? She'd never popped one of her ******* placebos, or woken up in the middle of her dad's favourite golf course with the date of the end of the world scrawled all up her arm..
She'd never spoken with Frank.
The first domino on the track had been pushed.
Twisting, lurching; everything was crumbling, shaking, falling apart as the room swung violently out of control. Donnie's frame remained perfectly still amidst the surrounding chaos. The thumping echo of reality collapsing in upon itself was truly deafening. The bright lights of the classroom admitted a devastating defeat as blackness cascaded loudly upon Donnie.
A familiar silhouette presented itself before him..
"If your lack of action continues to persist, then time in itself may cease to exist."
Frank's voice possessed a chilling subtlety, far quieter than the background roar of pandemonium beside him. Donnie attempted to reply, yet the apparition had already slipped away into the darkness.
He felt sick to his stomach, the weight of the whole world bearing right down onto his shoulders. Perhaps the force of the task at hand had broken him. Certainly, it wasn't every day that a teenager was expected to send a corrupted parallel universe away in order to save humanity from impending doom. Of all people chosen to unravel this sickening mess it had to be him, didn't it? Forced to resolve a problem that threatened Earth's existence, under the instructions of an oversize bunny rabbit. Typical!
It all fell down to him. Donnie Darko; bullies' favourite victim. Human punchbag . And yet..somehow..
The Living Receiver.
It simply didn't piece together; seemed so incredibly surreal. How could someone dubbed by society as so useless, such a waste of space, be expected to save the very people that had mercilessly ridiculed him and put him down throughout his lifetime?
Inspired out of nowhere, the realisation hit him like a ton of bricks. Donnie required something more than simply himself to return the artefact and put the tangent universe right.
Divine Intervention, whatever that may be, was definitely required.
Crackle.
"The tangent universe is corrupting the world as you know it, Donnie. It is down to you as the Living Receiver to return the artefact. Fate is being gentle; kind with you. The artefact is all that it requires."
Crackle.
Just like that, Frank had penetrated Donnie's mind, coming and going in an instant. Disturbed by another of Frank's unusually brief visits, Donnie struggled to shake himself awake, straining to escape from the torturous burden of responsibility that his conscience had ensnared him with.
It didn't work.
.Top notch, in fact. Donnie offered Frank a wealth of sarcastic congratulations for trapping him in his own head. Bravo, Frank. He'd probably like that. Clearly, Frank's sense of humour was of a more sickening variety than Donnie could have ever imagined.
Escaping the situation was no use. His brain feeling as if it was going to haemorrhage from pure exhaustion , Donnie realised the fact that had to face the music. Grasp his great power, and even greater responsibility, and run with it, not looking back for a second. He had to truly believe the myths of "The Philosophy of Time Travel", and trust the true madness of Grandma Death, who had told him what to do. Then, only then, could his existence emerge from its current state of disaccord.
In that moment, as Donnie choked on the musky warmth of the darkness in which he was engulfed, he realised that it was time to fulfil the old bat's wild prophecy:
'The Philosophy of Time Travel
The Living Receiver is to return the jet engine that falls from the sky, and travel backwards through time to fix the corruption that will give birth to the Tangent Universe, the very entity that will threaten to annihilate existence itself'
Suddenly, the brisk winter air from the classroom began to return to his lungs. Donnie gasped for breath and pushed himself off the ground. He felt arms hoisting him up and dragging his feet out of the lesson, down the school corridors. The brisk voice of the school nurse began ringing around his ears, and Donnie began to realise that the world he was returning to might just be tougher than the prison of his own mind.
In either version of his existence, there was no remorse, and no escape.
As reality began to flash once more before Donnie's eyes, the brightness of it burning his eyes, a final, crippling realisation came before him. The truth was brutal. Awful. Yet it had to be done, however much the sense of obligation tore him apart. If for no one else, for her. The one person he truly cared for, and would happily die to save. Not the girl of his dreams, no, the girl of his realities.
Click.
Click.
Click.
The second hand of the clock urged him on. It was time for Donnie to find Grandma Death, and put a definitive end to this madness.
"Not so fast, Donnie. Are you not aware? You are not the only one who is to be sacrificed. Another life must end - that of the one whom you love the most."
Surely not..
Gretchen?
To be continued
