The situation was fucked to its core, wait I might be getting ahead of myself now. So, this in sort of how I was almost trapped in a time before me.

The envelope arrived with a scrawny boy, I’ve actually started tipping them. I’m not sure if that’s what I am supposed to do, but I do it all the same.  I pull the contents out. There is a crude drawing of what might be a man, the smudge across his face gives him a monstrous look. I read over page and page of crimes. A small brown ticket slides free of the paperclip and falls onto the floor. Picking it up I set it inside my cigarette case as I go to my closet. I pull the articles, get dressed, and stuff my belongings in my pocket. I practice pulling the knife from my sleeve over and over. Satisfied I got it down I tip my hat as I watch myself vanish in the mirror.

A visitor in red, I stride my way to the theater for royalty, but there wasn’t quite anything royal about it.  The pastel colored coats of the other attendees made me feel a bit overdressed. I fish in my pockets and pull out my cigarette case. The kid tearing tickets and I exchange crude looks as I hold it with two fingers to give it to him. Taking it he reads the worn words then holds it out in front of him “That be ‘morrows show, sir.”  It took me two turns to process what he said. He places the ticket into my hand, I squint in the low light. “Oh very well then.” I don’t even fake my accent as I walk back the way I came. I walk down a cobbled street away from the theater. Pausing I fetch my device  as the dark hides my ascent into the future. The night was quite like the one before, except there was a bigger line than before. I join the wait as I spot my goal in front of me in line. I keep my eyes on him until he disappears inside. I come to the kid with the same awkward stare, hand him the ticket, and he nods me in. There is chatter and clatter as everyone searches for the seat. 23A. I stumble my way to the front row. I really have no idea how anyone got anything done with these low lights. Somewhat surprising to myself my seat is next to the man in the crude drawing, at least they got the liver spot on his face correct. I sit there next to him while the lights putter out in the back and the play starts. I sit twisting the small knife under my coat on my lap, I wait.

In or around when the one actors say “Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die.” Because I do enjoy theatrics. I push my coat up moving in to strike him. But before I could stab there’s a scream from the back of the theater. It fills quickly with smoke as everyone clamber against each other. Pushing, shouting, the lights never come on but the exit is shined on by the roaring flames. I try to stay behind my target as we push more and more towards cleaner air. The fire engulfs the side of the theater, but it’s hard to see. I squeeze the knife in one hand and my device in the other.  The ground becomes mush as we begin to step over the unlucky. I feel the urge to just leave and let the fire deal with him when something large knocks the wind right out of me.

The heat, the heat is a menace, clawing at me. I reach for my device that sits glinting in the light, but my fingers can’t graze it. I try to scream out as the section of a catwalk from above pins me to the floor. Someone, somehow, for some reason, heeds my call for mercy. He pulls at my arms tug after tug when I feel my legs free. The fire and smoke masks his birthmark, but not enough. I pretend now, that he was going to do the same to me. But each time I recall his face, his wince. the way his body buckled. All I can remember is how he saved me.

I cough and cough as I try to make my way to the kitchen sink. I lap the water as it pours from the faucet, trying to swish the bad taste out of my mouth. Though it felt stuck there. I cough more as I slouch my way onto the kitchen floor. A damp cloth dabs at my forehead, I enjoy the sensation for far too long. Soon sensible to sensations outside the wet cloth I begin to question the source of the dabs. My eyes still burn as I open them “Hello honey, looks like you lost your hat?” I try to stand up but she shushes me back down. “No need to do that, dear. One of those ribs of yours might be broken.” I wanted to agree with her once the adrenaline wore off. “So what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask her trying to remain nice, Edna’s thin lips perk. “Just a fan, sorry I cut things short, but I really do hate Shakespeare.”  I force myself to stand, leaning against the counter I begin to feign a question, but I already knew the answer, so it dies before it left my lips.  Gathering some resolve I stand myself straight and speak “I see. Well, a little warning would have been nice.” She chuckles as she tries to help me to the couch, I push her arms away, and make the rest of the walk. Sitting back down hurts like a stab wound. Opening her hand in front of me three reddish pills sit in the center of her palm. “What is it?” I ask, yet still, I put my palm under hers. “They’re candy sweetheart! They’ll fix those broken bones, though I really don’t understand how.” She turns her hand and they land in mine. “What doesn’t kill you…” I murmur as I toss the three pills in my mouth and swallow hard. “Night, night.” Edna says as she disappears, then the room does.

-Karl