Chapter 3 - For Now We See Through a Glass, Darko
Middlesex, Virginia, 1988
On October 2nd, Donald J. Darko died.
On March 3rd, Donald J. Darko was born.
He laughed. The world was bending inwards. Lights and colours and sounds were swirling lazily. He wasn't looking at the present. He was looking at everything. He could see the turbine shatter the roof of his house, ploughing downwards, crushing his bedroom. It killed him. He could see the days after that, his family trudging everywhere, mourning. He could see months before, years before. His parents buying the house. His first bicycle.
He waved an arm. He wasn't fixed any more. He wasn't grounded. Someone had reached out and plucked him from the flat, linear sequence. He wasn't in March 3rd. He was somewhere above it, somewhere around it, somewhere...different.
He wasn't seeing colours any more. He wasn't hearing sounds. It was...more.
He laughed. Laughter carrying over the world, doing laps and races over the Pacific, skimming the Arctic. He wasn't fixed any more. He was...so much more.
He kicked down. Soared. Concentrated. Drew physical form to himself. Wrapped himself in flesh, in skin, in black clothes. Filled in the empty space that Donnie Darko now inhabited.
He landed. Held out his hands. They glowed. The people stumbling down the streets couldn't see it. Only he could. Only he...
He lunged. Space and time rippled with his movement. He was moving, piercing the very fabric of reality.
March 3rd. He was moving, slipping out of the timeline, slipping over and grounding himself again. October 2nd.
He watched the turbine crush the pile of meat and bone that had once been Donnie Darko.
People couldn't see him. He moved shadows to cover himself. Moved into the place where eyes slid past, the dark blur in the peripheries. Watched as people panicked, as people lived their lives, event following event...
He was aware of the rabbit before it appeared. Of course he was. He wasn't bound to it any more, wasn't tied down to simple cause and effect.
"What did you do to me, Frank?"
He didn't move his mouth. The words happened at once, or in reverse. It didn't matter any more. He could do it how he wanted.
Frank didn't answer. He tilted his head, curiously.
Donnie smiled, bleary eyed.
"It doesn't matter, Frank. I understand it all now. I'm free of it. Time..." the world shimmered and moved on, into the 21st century, busy shining streets, "...Space..." an explosion, people rushing, screaming, a siren blared, "...Reality."
Frank watched, curiously, as Donnie's body inverted itself. It warped and blazed before the rabbit, becoming more distorted each time, more nightmareish, more angry.
He flickered. Donnie again. Meat and bones.
"I understand it now. It's just like Gretchin said. A superhero. I'm going to make things right."
He smiled, distantly. Frank watched, wordlessly. Donnie turned, sharply.
"You're going to watch it happen, Frank. You're going to watch me make the world a better place."