Realization Of Two Pasts
As Locke's foot stirred in the cool water it hit him.
Locke raced feverishly from the dock to the side entrance of the house. He fiddled with the tarnished knob until he realized that the door was locked. He lifted the straw mat under his feet and picked up the damp spare key. He jammed it into the keyhole with great force and turned.
Once inside Locke dashed to the bedroom.
"Damn," he muttered.
He raced outside to the small shed at the rear of the house. He pulled open the creaking door to find a mass gathering of dust and cobwebs.
Locke ran his hands across a workbench until his desired item was discovered: a crowbar. He made yet another mad dash to the house and back into the bedroom. Locke leaned against the wall and ran his hand down its length. He felt a slightly loose board and smiled. Locke jammed the crowbar into the crevice between the boards. He pushed until a resounding groan assured him that he'd accomplished his task.
Using his hands he ripped the board from the wall. His hands dove into the darkness until they found what they were seeking.
Locke pulled the book out of the wall. Its cover of cracked red leather was dust ridden and filthy. He brushed off what he could and strolled back to the dock.
His fingers traced along the embroidered words on the cover. "Reflections," he mused. Locke opened the book and began to read.
I don't know if I should call this a diary or a journal. It's really not any of those. It's just that these days I'm always thinking back on things. I reasoned that writing them down might help sort all my confusion.
So what is the source of all my disorder? I'm out searching for it right now, and not in the mental sense. No, I'm searching for the culprit of my confusion physically.
His name is Klay.
Since our first meeting I have learned a lot of different things about him. Though let me tell you, since our first meeting I haven't spoken more than 20 words at a time to him.
But I have seen him more times than I've spoke to him.
So why does Klay confuse me? I've only really got to spend time with him once. It doesn't make much sense. I know all these facts collide. Yet I sit here in my room aboard the Lady Luck, an airship purchased from Setzer Gabanni, a very old friend of mine.
Our airship pilot is Clefara Isidore. She found me drunk and ready to die hal a year ago in Kohligen.
But let's get back to the mysterious Klay. Do I know his surname? No. His whereabouts? No. Klay travels as much as I do, seeing as I'm chasing him.
I best get to the point. The reason I chase Klay is because I'm in love with him. The story of how I came in contact with him is a majestic one.
Locke's eyes scanned over his account of the events inside the rancid imprisonment chamber. He started flipping and skimming through the crisp pages until he found the tale of his escape.
So as I said before, Klay had been wrong. We did not wake in new locations. At least I didn't. Klay was gone and I was still imprisoned. A meal was left for me on a small tray. The waste pail had been emptied. After eating I started searching the chamber for an exit. If there was a way in there had to be a way out.
My obvious inclination was the window. Well, it was locked from the outside. After giving the glass over 30 kicks I concluded it was impenetrable
After that I felt up and down the tiled walls, feeling for a crack or crevice in the tile partitions. After thoroughly examining each tile individually. This process brought forth no results after two hours of time wasted.
Eventually I ended up slumped against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. Immediately I started swinging from each pipe in the steel labyrinth above me looking for something. Some pipes scalded my hands while others froze them. Eventually I found two fat pipes that were mildly warm. I nestled myself between them to rest. My energy was dwindling. I was desperate for escape.
I started to wonder how Klay had survived his few days here. Of course, I then immediately thought that he could've been lying about the length of his stay. I did accuse him of using his story of sorrows to make me feel for him. From what I recall he admitted to this.
How Klay eludes me.
I stared up at the actual ceiling. It was nothing but plain grey cement. I ran my hand along its rough texture until I found a cold round object stuck in place. As I started to tug it came off with relative ease. I examined the metallic half-sphere and the mess of wires from where I had yanked it from its socket in the ceiling. I instantly realized it was the shock transmitter for the operating table.
Boredom was setting in again. Therefore I became more desperate for escape. I disconnected a segment of loose pipe and proceeded to smack it against the window. I was lucky not to have water or some other substance come rushing out at me when I removed the pipe. If noxious gases were now filling the chamber, well I'd find out when my lungs started collapsing.
After striking the window some 50 odd times I gave up. Boredom started setting in again. I hurled the pipe at the opposite wall and chipped away some of the tile. I jumped down to the floor and took my place slumped against the wall. I dozed off for a short period. After waking I decided I needed to do something. I picked up the shock transmitter off of the floor and started fiddling with the wires. Eventually I hopped back up amongst the pipes. I felt the spot where I had pulled the transmitter from and felt a mess a wires. I started playing with these too.
Let me just state that I Locke Cole am the luckiest man alive.
After 10 minutes of connecting and disconnecting wires I watch the window slide away.
I jump down onto the floor and sprint into the window space. A find a small piece of paper left in this shaft that measure about a meter high.
Dear Locke,
Looks like you beat them. Good luck.
-Klay
I chuckled before crawling through the tight shaft. So Klay apparently had left willingly or was escorted from the chamber. I started to think all he had done was tell me a mess of lies. If he did it would make sense.
But I didn't want that to be the truth.
As I crawled through the steel shaft I thought about the enticing kisses Klay gave me. I thought about the majestic love we made after he released me.
Yet he swore he couldn't love me. I wanted that to be a lie as well. If all my thoughts were pure and undeniable then what would his psychic powers matter? I started to think that Klay had not experienced true love. I wanted to love him. I had the thought that I could spend every moment of my life in that prison with him and be in absolute ecstasy.
Then I started to think about Celes.
This woman who I said I had fallen in love with. I did love her didn't I? I could say the same about her?
Well, I couldn't.
I started to feel sick. This woman who I had said I was spending the rest of my life with, I didn't truly love her. We had talked of children. We were a couple.
But I didn't want her. In fact I started to wonder if I ever did. My thoughts started drifting to all my loves. I immediately pleaded for Rachel's help in mediating this problem. She seemed to be unresponsive. I assumed she figured it was something I needed to sort myself.
Or something she didn't know how to help, even in her present state.
And then my thoughts turned to someone I rarely thought about. She was someone I had loved. Yet so many others had pushed my thoughts for her aside.
I reached the light at the end of the shaft. The cold metallic shaft turned upward to view the blue sky overhead. I pushed down to propel my self upward. I crawled out into the world with one name bouncing around inside my head.
It was Terra.
Locke closed the book and smiled. "All will be answered soon," he said to himself.
