CHAPTER FOUR

I do not see Trinity for another two weeks.

Surprisingly enough, even to myself, I do try and remember whatever it is I am supposed to remember. But I do not understand any of this, and so when I concentrate too hard, I find my head beginning to hurt. In the end, I give up and lie down. But when I lie down, I always find myself sleeping. And when I sleep, I see clouded images blurring over and over in my mind, ones that I cannot acknowledge or comprehend. I know that I see them; only, when I wake up, I cannot remember anything about them, and so end up even more frustrated than I was in the beginning.

I find it hard to sleep in the night and imperative to sleep in the day. My boss has been furious with me on several occasions, and I was close to losing my job. There are days that I wonder why exactly I am working for him. The cycle of depression, the safety of 'the devil you know is better than the devil you don't.' Some days I just sit at my desk and stare out at the city beyond me, wondering if there is anything more to life than all of this. And then this pondering spawns further thoughts, about this woman Trinity and about all the things she said to me that afternoon. Perhaps all this is not so insane as I thought. Or perhaps it is. Perhaps I am just out of mind. I do not know. I just wish I understood.

The newspapers keep bleating about Artificial Intelligence, and it begins to capture my interest. I begin purchasing a newspaper, every day, from the main at the corner of the subway. Today he smiles at me, winks, and pulls out a cigarette every time, offering one to me. I've given up the habit long ago and so decline, but thank him anyway. His teeth are yellowed and his skin sallow and tired, but I can tell he is a true soul. I feel as though I know him from somewhere else, and this constant sense of de ja vu is putting me at unease. I think I'll go and lie down.

But just as I unbolt my apartment door, and lurch towards my bedroom, I notice a strange scent in the house. Not dangerous. Just odd. I yank open my bedroom door. Sure enough, Trinity is there, perched on the end of my bed.

I bite my tongue, hard, to stop myself from hurling obscenities at this woman. Why can't she just leave me alone? Everytime my mind plays havoc with me, she's there to disrupt what could be the beginning of rational reasoning!

'What the hell are you doing here?' I ask angrily, leaning against the doorframe in what I hope is an intimidating manner. However, it is more the other way around - Trinity looks like somebody who could do some serious damage with little effort.

'Neo, there's no time for bullshitting,' she said to me.

'Excuse me?' This woman definitely knows how to rile me up. No wonder I'm a ball of walking stress lately. People like this should belong in a mental ward. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

'Neo, I told you to remember and you didn't. There's gonna be trouble soon.'

'Get out of my house,' I say. 'I will call the police this time.'

'Call them if you have to. They stand no chance against me.' What an ego. (Though it's probably true, I rationalise).

'Oh, won't they?'

'No. I don't have time for bullshit. And, quite frankly, you're creating a lot of it.'

That was it. That was the last straw. How dare this woman, this freak, just waltz into my life and accuse me of being a bullshit artist, just because I won't play the game her way? I don't even know what bloody game she's playing, let alone HOW to play it! I reach over and grab her firmly by the wrists, and drag her over to the door, prepared to push her out of it. At least, that's what I planned to do. Before I had a chance to exert my strength, she'd sent me flying over to the other side of the room. I landed with a deafening thud against the opposite bedroom wall.

'Bitch,' I mutter, glaring up at her with bitterness. I wipe away the blood now pouring from my nose with my sleeve. I rarely call women bitches, but this is one occasion that definitely warrants it. I feel pain sear through the back of my head and the discomfort of blood dripping down my chin.

'Goddamnit, Neo,' she says, her eyes going quite flinty as she looks down, as though breathing deeply and riling herself up for conflict at the same time. 'I try to warn you, but you don't want to listen. You're so different. Can't you see?'

'It's a little difficult,' I retort, 'because I think you may have given me concussion.'

Trinity manages a little smile, and pulls a phone from the folds of her long overcoat. 'Wait a second,' she says, and then, to the person on the other end of the line, 'I'm almost there.' Pause. 'No, not yet. But I haven't given up.' Pause. 'Yes. Harder than I thought. It will be okay, though. He'll remember soon.' Pause. 'I didn't think I should. It's not the right time. He's finding it hard to believe.' Pause. 'All right, Morpheus. If you say so.' She hangs up, and returns the phone to its place. 'I have some things to tell you.'

Morpheus...Morpheus...the name is again familiar. Who are all these people that are invading my life? It's so frustrating being the centre of a parallel universe and not knowing or understanding a thing about it!

'First,' she says, 'get out of your job.'

'Excuse me?'

'I mean it,' she barrels on. 'Your boss is working against you. He's trying to kill you.'

I am stunned. It never took a lot of effort to convince me that my boss was an arsehole, but I wasn't expecting this. And, despite my confusion and frustration, I find myself believing her all at once.

'Okay,' I say. 'I'll quit tomorrow.'

'Good. He's monitoring everything you do. I can't tell you why or how, just yet, but just know that he is.'

'All right.'

'As for these dreams of yours...'

'Yes?'

'Well, I -'

The sound of splintering glass cut Trinity off. Shards of glass littered my and Trinity's bodies as we shrieked and hurled ourselves away from the site. My bedroom window now lay, shattered, all over my carpet.

'Wonderful,' I said. 'I'm having such a great day. I find out my boss is trying to kill me and now I have to pay for insurance to cover a broken window.' I glare out of the empty hole now in place of my window. 'Arsehole,' I mutter, in the general direction of the attacker, wherever he was.

'Come on,' Trinity says, 'we have to go somewhere else. Now.'

She grabs my wrist and, before I can react, she runs, pulling me along behind her.