You don’t know me but my name is Jimmy Fingers. Why am I known as ‘Fingers’ you ask? I may not be the sharpest crayon in the box but my fingers are magic. I can open any safe in the world with my nimble, highly skilled fingers. I may not be smart at book learning but I mastered this skill from my Daddy who is serving fourteen more years.

In fact, I was on my way to meet Johnny Bananas at Moe’s the day it all happened! Why was he nicknamed ‘Bananas’ your inquiring mind might want to know? Well, he has the largest …. well, you don’t really want to know that, do you?

There I was, getting out of my car across the street from Moe’s in the pouring rain, when it happened. Lightning coursed through my body in a searing jolt, going through my shoulder and leaving through my left foot. When I regained consciousness, I was in a hospital bed with a team of neurologists discussing my prognosis. And the funny thing was, I understood every word of medical terminology they were spouting. In fact, I could probably run circles around them in smarts. But I didn’t let on about this amazing phenomenon, because it served my purpose to still be thought of as good old, plodding Jimmy Fingers.

Once I recovered, I felt like my brain was whirling in circles with all kinds of nefarious schemes, all struggling to get out. A rainbow of possibilities had opened up to me. I just had to learn how to channel this new found energy to perfect the skills I already had. Why not put it to good use? So I called up Bananas to arrange a meeting.

I had always wanted to crack the safe at Mason’s Jewelers but had previously thought I would be unable to get around their security systems. Well, Bananas had access to the schematics for the entire strip mall and now I had the brains to dismantle their surveillance. We cut the wire to the shop next door and went in through the ceiling panels. Quickly, I found their burglar alarm , taking it out of commission and smashing their mounted cameras. Rolling up my sleeves, I tackled their safe. I used my magic fingers to go through the usual routine – rotating the dial to the left until it hit the first groove, then into the next locked groove and then to the right. But it didn’t work! I couldn’t believe it! I rotated the dials backward and forward until my fingers were numb but it was no use! Just as I was realizing that the lightning strike had fried my fingers, I heard “Put your hands behind your backs and lay on the ground.” It looked like the entire police force of our ‘burb’ was surrounding us. Well, I don’t argue with guns and the next thing you know, Bananas and I were locked up in the same penitentiary where my Daddy was. It was like a family reunion. Even Uncle Whack Whack was there! (Guess how he got his name?)

Well, now I am known as the jailhouse lawyer, helping other cons with understanding the loopholes of the law, studying briefs and legal avenues. I am going to be here for a long time so I might as well put my intelligence to a good use.

“You’re the smartest person in the prison,” the inmates chorus.

“Yeah, well, I’m the smartest person in the whole world but little good that did me!”

     The woman with tangled hair sways in front of the reference desk with unblinking eyes. I tuned out and stopped trying to talk to people hours ago, but her sporadic hand motions catch my eye. She huffs under her breath and wanders away. Her shirt is buttoned haphazardly, as if she forgot midway or gave up, exposing a swath of irritated skin and ancient brassiere.

     Sunlight filters through the glass windows. There is a hush in the library as patrons wander, slow and sluggish, pausing often to stare around the room or eye each other blankly. Circling around and around, they carve paths through aisles of bookcases and rows of dead computer monitors.

     An old man teeters to my desk. His mouth opens wide and snaps shut, once, twice. He gestures vaguely over my head and I turn around in my swivel chair but there is nothing. I point to his wife, who sits on the floor next to the copy machine. In her lap lies a dead possum with glassy eyes and a rivulet of blood running from jaws to her muddy skirt. Its long rat tail droops from the crook of her elbow and she strokes the fur slowly, her eyes two moons in a slack face. Yesterday, a lifetime ago, I gave them the daily newspaper and watched as they read and laughed softly in twin armchairs by the window. His eyes follow my finger, hovers on his wife, and passes over.

     People thump against the glass windows like moths. They wander in and out of the door in various states of undress. Do they remember who they are? Did they awake as empty husks, instinct propelling them to routines—drive to work, drop off kids, pick up groceries? They move with aimless purpose, without speaking, some sit down abruptly like infants. Outside, a car careens down the street and into a tree, folding into itself like a cardboard box. A man stumbles out, dazed, blood running down his face, and stands there with his neck craned back to look at the cloudless sky. What answers will you find up there, carless man? Everywhere there are abandoned cars: flipped over on the street or parked in incongruous spots, crooked and random, in the library parking lot. 

     A naked man with a pale, hairy belly walks up and down the fiction aisles, raking his nails along the spines. Before I could call out, he sweeps his hand across a shelf in a single furious motion. The books fall like dying birds, pages flapping and torn. A girl sitting near the magazine racks tears out pages by the handful. People watch and I look into the emptiness of their expressions, already unfamiliar and inhuman. All this knowledge, all this useless paper containing stories and memories and information, as irrelevant as firewood to a flintless man. I hear the sound of laughing and guttural weeping, echoing and faint as if from a great distance. Heads turn slowly at the sound of my keening, but no one approaches.

When I opened my eyes, I saw a green, wavy sky. There were no clouds, and no living thing around. I was laying in cold mud and I had no idea what was happening. I got up on my feet and began to walk, and i immediately felt the pressure and it felt flattening. After what felt like hours, I finally found what looked like tents and then I noticed that it was a town! Finally I found another living person, and I asked him, "where am I and why does everything in the world feel upside-down?!". He looked at me with a frown and called me a clown, as he walked away. I asked the next person I found the exact same question, "where am I and why does everything feel upside-down?!". What she told left me in deep depression. I was in the year 2566. However, just yesterday I lived in the year 2066. The girl I spoke to sounded very uneducated and very surprised that spoke as well as I did. I asked her, "do you have internet? Do you have books?" She looked at me puzzled and said, "No int-re-net, no voooks.". At THAT moment I realized something, something that would change my life forever. I am the smartest person on the earth! I will not be called anything other than a genius! NEVER! These thoughts made me smile like a mad man, making the woman ask, " a-are y-you o-ok?". "Ohh yes!" I said, "what is your name?". "Ssarrrah" she said,  "what is you?". "My name is Aristotle Shakespeare and boy do I have much to share with you!!". I asked Sarah to take me to her leader or leaders. She took me to the largest tent, and inside were four elders. "Hello stranger" one said, "who are you?". They sounded like they were educated and strong readers. "My name is Aristotle Shakespeare and I've come to change your the world as you know it.". The elders Began to whisper to each other, two of them looked like they wanted to tear off my limbs, bit by bit. "You may stay here for tonight, but we don't want any of your supposed delights!". I felt shocked, bewildered, mocked. I walked away with Sarah to her little tent. "Do you need anything?" She asked, "no, thank you though, it's been a long day and I'm spent.". That night I had a dream. I was a scientist, a really good one it seemed. I freely went into a time machine That I built. I awoke still in Sarah's tent. I knew what I had to do next... The elders had to go. It would need to be intricate, with suspicions towards me and Sarah on the low. It will have to be at night. I waited outside the town with the deepest frown. I creeped down to the large tent and took a nearby torch. I threw it onto the tent and watched as it got torched. Finally the elders Began to scream and following their screams came the screams of everyone in the town. "DO NOT CRY! DO NOT WORRY! THEIR DEATHS WILL NOT BE THE END OF YOU! I WILL LEAD YOU!! I WILL BE YOUR BEACON OF HOPE! I AM ARISTOTLE SHAKESPEARE!!!!!!

I awoke to the smell of smoke filtering into the room. I coughed and groped along the floor; finally my hands encountered the towel. It must have fallen off in the night. I moistened it with my water bottle, then stuffed it back into the window. I would have to use more duct tape if I wanted it to stay, but since it dried out quickly it didn't matter either way. I never thought I would go so long without being able to get that stupid broken window replaced, though.

I yawned and stumbled toward the kitchen. Best to start with breakfast, today would be a long day. It's always a long day. As I went down the hall, Fraidy meowed and rubbed by my ankles. I stopped to pet her grey fur even though I knew she was just hungry. She could feed herself by dealing with the pests, but I always gave her some food in the morning to make sure she stayed healthy. As far as Fraidy Cat is concerned, that makes me the best owner on the planet.

I dug through the icebox in the fridge. I still had eggs, a bit of bacon, and some fruit, but I was low on supplies. That could wait until late morning, though. Though I am a world class chef, I was in a hurry, so I scrambled the eggs and bacon, then scraped a bit into Fraidy's bowl. She made the oddest grunting sounds as she ate. That always makes me laugh. I'd be much lonelier without her. When we were both done eating I cleaned the plates and utensils.

First order of business after that was cleaning. I decluttered, dusted, swept, sanitized the bathroom, and did laundry. It's not like anyone but me would see it, but I can't stand living in a house that isn't tidy and clean. I must be the biggest neat freak in existence. I grinned as that thought flickered through my head; my mother never would have suspected me of that trait growing up. My room was always so messy she finally gave up and kept the door closed. 

Next order of business: food. I headed to the living room, which I had converted into an indoor garden. The big glass windows let me grow plants year round, or at least keep them alive. Some plants simply refuse to yield fruits and vegetables in the winter no matter how much sunlight they get. However, it was not winter. In any case, there were some ripe tomatoes, zucchini, and strawberries. I drooled when I found flowers on the eggplant vine; soon I would feast.

After returning my precious harvest to the kitchen, I headed out back to the chicken coop. I grabbed my gas mask on the way out, quietly commending myself on being able to rig up an automatic feeder for the chickens so I wouldn't have to venture outside as often. Clearly I am the most intelligent person on the planet. The fans I set up cut down on the smoke certainly -- otherwise I wouldn't be able to keep the chickens alive at all. However, I still didn't like going outside.

Was the smoke unpleasant? Sure, but I could manage. And the landscape I could ignore by looking in front of me. But the silence just outside the door reminded me that I am the loneliest person on the planet.

After all, I'm the only person left on Earth.

"The winner of the year 2018 Nobel Prize in mathematics is... 

Benjamin .J. Nikola."

Yes! That's me,  the guy on the newspapers,  Tele, YouTube,  Instagram,  twitter,  Facebook. Dem!  All over the globe.  I'm loving the paparazzi, from my house of residence, to the labs all over the world.  The ladies flirty scream,  when I pop up around the corner. The refreshing salutes from many well wishers is overwhelming.  

Everyone wants my signature or a hug and oh!  My handshakes,  don't go there.  Study shows that I have shake the equivalent of a third of China's population in less than three years.  Seriously!  I'm a feature of statistics,  that's crazy. Shoulders high,  Johnny Depp's smile, joker's eye and Batman's confidence, all in one large scoop. I flaunt everyday. 

"Mr J what does it feels like to win three Nobel Prize in a role?"

"I don't know,  if I say on top  of the world,  that would be an understatement, the feeling is indescribable.  I'm happy because,  I made a difference and there is lot more to be done and I need not to drown myself with such pride. "

" Why Benjamin. J. Nikola?"

"Well, as you may know many call me James or, 'J' for short. My name is the sandwich of two mighty giants in the history of electricity and modern day possibility to access the internet and much more.  Benjamin Franklin and Nikola Tesla. "

"So you prefer their first names? "

"Yes,  I do.  It symbolizes the number '1'. Nothing is as important as being number one.  In any competition or whatsoever,  all that matters most is,  who succeeded?  This men to me are number one. Someone has to  carry on their legacy,  right?!"

"What can you tell us  briefly about counter physics?"

" Well,  the law of opposite motion or counter physics states that an actions reaction opposes.  I mean when an heating element such as a boiler, instead of boiling water from normal temperature  25•C to 100•C. It takes  the degrees to 0•C and beyond.  By beyond,  I mean lower. 

  The big picture is that,  the increase in infrared rays towards the earth surface due to opposite motion the earth cools.  Instead of the North Pole's ice glaciers melting down due to global warming.  Opposite motion makes it possible to reduce the rate at which ice glaciers dissolves into the sea bodies. More light is shed on this matter in the text with bulk load of calculations. "

Wait,  you might be wondering,  how did it happen.  Let take a step backwards in time to where it all began. 

      Like everyone I was born in a modest family and I had my equal share of life threatening challenges. I found it hard to cope with the pace in college,  so I dropped out, but I hung around the school library.  It felt like the universe was calling me. 

After complete isolation from  the world except my family,  who were fully in charge of my well being.  To a degree,  I kept my adventure of soul searching a secret.  I sugar coated my progress in college to keep them in loop.  Those years I felt completely miserable at most  times regretting my choice of career pathway. I spent a total of twelve hours everyday except on Sundays in the school library Burrowed in thoughts. When that was not enough,  I switched to adventurous imaginations. At those moments,  I was asleep. Since I did not  participate in any curricular activities or whatsoever. I was fixed to a point. 

 One-day after so many,  the yield of my silence exploded.  I woke from my dreams of thoughts and gave birth to the foundation of opposite motion. 

     This simple incident brought me to where I'm today.

"So, Mr J, what are you going to do with the prize money, considering this happens to be the third installation you have received this year."

"Hmm! I intend to start my own company, mainly based on agricultural farm produce. With the constant increase in the world population, someone has to feed those hungry mouths."

" What, are you? Single, engaged or at the registry "

"For now still single, A right woman will come in due time, but that is not a priority."

Hold that thought, who said I'm not into ladies. I might be wearing the Sylvester Stallone soldier look, inside, I'm desperately searching

"But Mr J it is said that, 'to every successful man, there is a strong woman.' Did you fly solo all the way to three Nobel prizes and who were those responsible?"

"Okay! That's a big one. My strong woman was God almighty. It took a great amount of discipline to be able to set my life on track. That level of encouragement, no one I knew could provide such. I thought of committing suicide so many times. God made it clear, that, it was not an option. This very factor limited the cycle of friends I had. My daily devotion opened my eyes wide, it was like I could see through everyone. In fact, trying to explain how God enlightened me, its a book  I intend to publish in the nearest future."

"So you are saying there was no one in particular that stood out."

"Yes no one, except God."

"God is the reason you are here today."

" He certainly is."

Wait a minute, I did say I'm desperately searching for a woman in my life. It's better I open a can of worms from my past.

   Before I slept, as in gave in to deep thinking, there was a mountain I needed to bring down. My father is one of his mother seven children who were from two separate men. His father (my grandfather) had three wives. His first wife had three children, the second (my father's mother) had four children, and the third had three children. You want to know the best part, my own mother's mom (my grandmother from my mother's side) had twelve children for three separate men. My mother's dad was the third man. Her father married three wives. Shoot! Something with these guys and three women.

my mom's mother was the second. My mom's father had a total of ten children.

That was definitely a mouth full of relation, form your nearest origin.

       The next biggie, was how my mom and dad met. My mom was in her final year as a senior in high school when her story took a rapid turn in tide. She had a friend who was my father's girl friend. My Dad was a rookie engineer who had just got his degree in England. Now back in Nigeria, he was full of life. One sorry day, my mom went looking for her friend in my dad's place. Seriously! That's  the version she told me. When she got to his house,  her friend was not around. But my smoke smart Dad, locked the door immediately my mom stepped into the house. My dad, blah!  Blah! Blah! That is classified, strictly above your clearance. That incident will forever change my mother's life. My mom had four children for my dad, I happen to be the last. Three boys and a girl. The girl was the ribbon that tied mom to my dad.

  Now imagine the jolt of insurgence  bolting in my blood. I had serious cravings for a woman's touch. Many sleepless nights of prayer and constant discipline made me overcome my family gene pool. Although, now I reap the fruit of my labor, the temptation is well alive. 'God have mercy on me.'

"Can you shed more light on how you were able to cure cancer"

"Yes, cancerous tissue as we know is due to mutation that means somewhere or somehow the body got its generic coding wrong. My little time in the research laboratory in Manchester. I was able to program genetic strands to fin a loop. That loop I created through synthesis reminds the genetic material of living organism to do what it is meant to do, therefore avoiding mutation. Without mutation no cancerous tissue, without cancerous tissue nothing for you to worry about. Like polio, everyone receives a vaccine for that."

"Thank you Mr J. How were you able to expand your horizon into all these fields?"

"I love nature. If you ask me what is my occupation? I will tell you, a scientist. Not a physicist or chemist or a mathematician. Science is the origin of these subjects. So, when I slept. One of the first lesson I learned, was to appreciate nature as a whole. How it was necessary to understand where they intertwine. The differences, sometimes is not black and white. I found myself comfortable dealing with these subjects as one. "

"What made you embark on these journey? Not so many people who dream of winning a Nobel prize get nominated, and in its history no one as won more than two prizes. You have won  three prizes in three absolutely different fields and yet nominated for another prize in another field different from the ones you have won... What are the odds? To be frank sir, you're something else."

"After I gave my life to Christ in senior high school, my entire programming was rewired. Everything about me changed, I suddenly realized that, I had the potential for  greatness, but I struggled in believing any of it will come to pass. Everyone around me, behaved different. They were all saying the same thing, but what my heart was saying, was in no way close to what they discussed. For years, I was drowning at that crossroad, it was not clear to me were I should take, everyone or my heart. When I finally got admission into university the winner of the tug of war was finally decided. During lecture, I simulate every expression made by the lecturer in my mind, and try to fit the puzzle with what is going on in our basic reality. I observe that they didn't fit. After over fifty years  of independence, my country in those time have produced outstanding scholars, but the country economy is drowning in corruption. What happened to those beautiful minds? No research of ground breaking importance is being carried out and the lecture is not hand in hand with such problems. What we are studying is unrealistic to our level of technology. In the United States, you see textbooks made from a particular State based on the resources they have and how to apply them. For example, Lecturers in Ohio write text based on Ohio industries and how they get raw materials to make finished goods. Such text starve in Nigeria. That's why an undergraduate after obtaining his certificate, does not have a proper guide on how to use what he learned. Instead they continue piling up certificates, with unrealistic relevance. In time, the more class I attended the more my mind was struggling for air. It felt like my mind was in a prison wall. After much deliberation, I embarked on the journey that changed my life. "

"Wow! That's extraordinary, lots of mind buzzing facts there, Mr Benjamin J. Franklin, It as been a great experience having you in our midst."

"Thank you, the pleasure is mine"

" Folks, stay tuned for more updates coming your way, do not touch that dial. Until next time, thank you."

I'm sorry to tell you. This interview was two years ago. If you were wondering what happened to the Nobel prize I was nominated for, I won it. The announcement of the prize winner when this peep at my world started came from my television.

I and some experts built

Breath in.

Breath out.

Turn over.

I'm waking up now, I can see instructions running behind my eyelids like movie credits. I never thought like this. 

Breath in.

Breath out.

Sit up.

What is going on? I can hear the drip of the leaky faucet of my old bathroom, the constant ticking of the clock on my night stand.  

Breath in.

Breath out.

Shake head.

I try to shake out the overwhelming cacophony of early mornings. It's 7:12 AM, the temperature is at 70 degrees and information is bombarding me. 

Breath in.

Breath out.

Stand up.

I'm getting dressed now, seeing every fiber of the cotton shirt before I even reach for it. The denim pants are jarring for I can practically taste the metal as I pull them on. Focus in on one object. I will myself to just do, not feel, not think. It doesn't work.

Breath in.

Breath ou-

The shriek of a baby makes me gasp, it's three floors above me, the baby needs to be changed. A girl is getting mugged in the lobby down the block, the gun is a glock, the man has a bad heart. It sloshes instead of a steady beat. He needs a double bypass. The doorman is asleep, his breath a cocktail of cheap vodka and cigarettes. My head is pulsing, matching the rapidly climbing  rhythm of my heart. The muscles in my fingers- the lumbrical muscles- are vibrating at an alarming speed. My vision is getting blurry, my finger tips look blue. I remember.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Breath in. 

Breath out.

I read once when I was in college that a human being only uses 10% of their -our- brains. A girl, 22, with blue eyes, brown hair, a body mass index of 20.5, had asked what would happen if humans were to use 100%. The professor, a man, 45, brown eyes, gray streaked hair, weight of 175 had answered he did not know.  Remember.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Blink.

I was at work. I had arrived to the solemn printing company, the machines were howling making my brain rattle. I cut it off, they were no longer howling but were a dull buzz. 

Breath in.

Breath out.

Look around.

I saw strings. So many. Oh so many. It was a wonder I was not tangled in them. My boss, a woman, 52, gray eyes, grey hair, height 6'2 was covered in them, practically a puppet. Her heartbeat was at 70 beats a minute, her blood pressure at 95 over 75. The new intern, a girl of 17, green eyes, black hair, a mass in her neck had only 2. Her heart was barely a patter in her fluid filled lungs.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Focus.

I saw the movie credits running through my mind. I was sitting. New information running through it, my nose was filled with the stench of ink as new books were born. I stopped the credits, the scene with the professor was playing on replay in a small corner.  I brought it forward.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Go.

I was in the room again, watching the lecture. The dialogue played through, I moved to the front of the room, somehow making no motion. I ran my hand along one of the ancient computers. I traveled. Out, out, out. The small college blurred into cities, states, countries, planets. Earth spun, the endless tirades of wars becoming the greatest times of peace, the temperature rising and falling, humans' cries growing from a drone then back down to a theatrical silence. I knew, I knew, I knew. This was 100%

Breath in.

Breath out.

It’s Monday at the Copenhagen Research Center for Advanced Human Augmentation and things are about to get strange. I have seen this because APEX has seen it. If any life form apart from humans finds this message, be warned and pay attention. The following account starts last week when I woke up in a cubical room no bigger than a hotel bedroom or at least I felt I did.

Time, we’re running out of time. There’s a throbbing feeling in my head. Time-fluid, never ending, harsh and mysterious. My eyes open to a hazy world, welcoming me with a sharp headache. As I lift my head from the wet floor, I regain control of the place and there appears to be some lettering at the wall ahead. There’s the crescendo of voices bouncing off near me but no people.

My hands are restrained and once I become aware of this, I jump high to no effect. Then some clarity falls to my sight and things become clearer.

“HEAT DEATH. PERCENTAGE OF POSSIBILITY 87. ETA 5..” was etched on the walls in a strange squiggly format much akin to that of a child’s scribbling in black ink. The etch ended at the number 5.

The world is clearer now. The trees outside are growing. The birds chirping, diplomats having peace talks and a whole lot of turbulent entropy passing out in the universe. I see this because APEX sees this. And APEX is being viewed by those strained voices standing outside in milk white lab coats and perturbed face expressions. Something’s wrong and my brain can feel it.

I was a university grad student by the name of Mitchell Caruthers who allowed scientists to use my brain as a testing ground for a new mind accelerated drug called ‘Ubercran’. But the developers underestimated the drug’s true effects. My eyes became a window to unforeseen events and expected outcomes, owing to a faster brain. I could complete a person’s sentence even before they finished talking, outtake an entire MENSA team of a hundred participants, learn multiple languages in a single night and even correct analytical errors in computer calculations even before they occurred.

But things got quite a lot out of hand. I began seeing the future. My mind could process it but my emotions couldn’t accept it. The team prescribed a dosage of painkillers to counter the effects but it somehow brought me closer to the brink of death.

The only way to keep a healthy threshold was by creating a secondary memory in my brain that could withstand such data. Thus a self sentient alter ego APEX was born. APEX has been feeding me things that would horrify most and despite my best intentions to suppress what it tried to say, sometimes it would take over send messages. The team seems terrified of one such message on my wall ahead.

“How are you feeling?”, Elizabeth Anne shot up near the glass exterior. She’s perhaps the only one in the team who knows that there’s still a human being inside this flesh.

“Light headed and disappointed”, I reply. “I suppose everyone knows what’s going on?”

“The heat death part is just one thing to be afraid of. Universally, it’ll take a long time. But you should take a look behind you.”

She pressed a button and removed my restraints. I quickly peered behind me and gulped in anxiety, “WORLD WAR III. WEST CONTRA EAST” was written in blood on the wall behind me that I was sitting on. Naturally, I looked at my arm and I saw stitches. APEX got out and now he was sending a foreseeable expectation.

“Does anyone know about this?”, I ask Elizabeth.

“No one yet has been informed but ever since you pulled that Ebola outbreak prediction, there’s been a swarming group of reporters outside ever since.”

It was a dumb question to ask her. Outside a team of reporters had already begun circulating the news. I could sense this because APEX could sense this.

Roger Stannard was the team lead who was even more concerned. “We need to amp up the Ubercran. The writings are all cryptic. APEX has to brought back and we need to know exactly what’s going to happen in the coming days”, he argued.

He pressed the same button Elizabeth pressed and I was restrained again in a docile state. Two tubes injected the drug straight to my cranium and then it happened. I crossed threshold. At exactly 9:56 A.M. GMT, APEX took over. I could see it all. The counter next to cubicle I was in showed a 100 percent sufficiency index. For nearly twenty minutes, I wasn’t just the smartest man in the world, but in the whole universe.

There were visions that shocked whatever was left of my conscience. Fifty nine nations going to war. A new terror front contra taking over the world in three months. Global pandemonium over toxic chemical releases, floods, mega tsunamis, entire island nations being wiped out in seconds. And the universe, a bleak portion of dark expanse too would collapse not in billions of years but right now. I saw this because APEX saw this.

I feared for my sanity but more for the team analysts who were reading my thoughts outside and were even more frightened.

When the millionth second mark crossed, APEX had full control over. Time became an immaterial thing. Disasters occurred in seconds, national armies proclaimed war and civil unrest took over the world and all that covered the world was darkness.

The facility must have crashed because of such reasons because by the time the visions came to an end and I regained my normal sights, everything was gone. My cubicle was in shambles, fire and noise gripped the entire facility and everyone was dead. APEX could sense that there were no other survivors left on the planet.

Mitchell was dead. APEX was the one who survived. I inspected the scene and found Elizabeth’s corpse with a gun in her hand. Surely suicide. As the mental visor demolished before me where her body lay, it revealed a final writing on the wall-

“WE SAW IT COMING. WE COULD HAVE PREVENTED THIS.”

A plump dark-haired woman busily disarranged a bouquet of white roses, gardenias and violets in a slim blue vase, annoyingly unsatisfied with any way she put them. Each time she slipped the fresh stalks in, she would hastily grab them out.

She wore a faded brown cardigan too spacious for her and a messy ponytail. When I looked down to her toes, I saw flat black sandals taut around two veined feet. I could see why the flowers had suffered such ill attempts to beauty. After a moment of utter frustration, she surrendered and haphazardly stacked the stalks into the narrow hole. At last, they could have some peace.

She turned and saw me awake, immobile in a spotless white hospital gown on a spotless white bed. For a split second, I glimpsed a streak of relief and joy flash in her black eyes. But the spark instantly burst into an ugly rage. Her right hand sliced the air and landed squarely on my unsuspecting cheeks.

Did this woman just slap me? This stranger has just assaulted me!

Strange though, the pain was vaguely familiar like I had known such a cruel injustice for a long time. My mouth gaping, I propped myself up. AWWW!

Fatigue and soreness surged through my body like a tsunami with no warning. My muscles stiffened and limped. I feared my bones had softened. I collapsed helplessly on the mattress. How many years exactly have I lain here?

“Don’t push yourself, you moron! Lie still,” she barked.

A moron? How the hell could she call me that?

I tried to fire back but only a strident snarl came out. She poured me a glass of water from a pitcher next to the vase of besmirched flowers. She shoved the glass against my chest. “Here, drink this.”

If this was poison, I might know later. But I drank it nonetheless.

When I regained my voice, I asked, “Uhm, who are you?” It sounded like a whisper but I figured she heard because her jaw dropped. She was shocked. I was puzzled.

Her brows furrowed, “Don’t you kid me, bastard.”

Now I am a bastard too. “I’m serious.”

A shade of horror fell on her freckled face. “What are you saying Wilson?”

The name lit up clouded memories and pain in my head. “Who’s Wilson?”

“Of course you’re Wilson. Stop this right now!” The tears she’d been holding back gushed free.

That’s ridiculous. Of course I knew my name. “No, I’m Francis.”

The color escaped her skin. The name hit her like a bombshell. “I’ll call the doctor.”

She was my mother. And I had amnesia. At least, that’s what the doctor said. But a person with amnesia only forgets. But I, I remembered things. I knew my name. I knew my school. I knew what my house looked like. My real house, not the messy little bungalow for the demented. I knew I was Francis, not Wilson. But all the pictures and the things about me told me I was the latter. Then who was Francis? They wouldn’t tell me.

Two weeks had passed since my release from the hospital. And in my stay, not one soul except my mother visited me. So I thought I had no friends. So who could these addicts in school uniforms be?

The classroom was huge. Yet enveloped by these nosy assholes, I felt it shrink in my face.

“You don’t remember us?” Said the porcupine. He had blond spikes for hair that stood like he was always horrified. But he was horrifying. He had yellowed teeth and a breath of cigar smoke.

I stiffly answered. “No. I really don’t.”

“We’re your buddies, bro,” croaked the tree frog. He had wide bulging eyes that his sockets barely restrained. Beneath the sleeve of his polo, I could see a skull tattoo. He couldn’t be a buddy of mine.

“Have you got amnesia?” exclaimed the last of them, the tiger. Dark orange hair. Strong jaws. Robust build. Fierce grey eyes. Who the hell are they?

“Yeah. I have amnesia. I’ve forgotten a lot.” That’s all it took to silence the animals. But after a moment, an evil grin drew across their snouts.

The tiger growled, “Well then, we’ll make you remember.”

Throughout the day, I could see this girl weirdly gazing at me. I guessed she could be someone I knew too. But she didn’t accost me until the dismissal of our last class in Mechanical Engineering.

Up-close, I saw she had sincere blue eyes, cascading brown hair, cream skin, and a stunning figure. So, I might had had one decent friend at least.

She spoke in a voice that I ought to have loved before because it made me want to hear it more. “Wil, I heard from your mom you have amnesia.”

She’s close to my mom. I thought that a good thing.

“Yes. And you are?”

She blushed. “It feels awkward to reintroduce myself you know. When you’ve known me for four years. Anyway, I’m Gwen.”

“Gwen.” The name squeezed out a few images. And they became vivid in her presence. The smiles in those memories, the vibrancy were all repainted by her meek grin. And the notes and melodies in them were all plucked into music once again by her voice. It was painful but it was bliss. Yet, something was still amiss. In those moments that searingly flickered to my reminiscence, it was not just the two of us. There was another face.

She said, “Anyway those three assholes this morning, they’re telling the truth. They’re your friends. Don’t worry.”

I was more scared than surprised. “They are?”

She mumbled gently, her cheeks reddened, “You know, you’re more like him now. I can almost see him in you.”

“I’m more like who?”

“Francis.”

Mr. Joeffrey Gil was far left back in the old days. He had this wavy mustache and well-combed goatee. He was a man of terror but those facial hairs made him look like a joke.

Boasting his full six-feet and two-inch height, he loomed over me and groaned, “In your current state, you have to review for two years to take the remedial and special exams. You’ve missed a lot Mr. Hurthon and now you’ve forgotten everything.” He coughed, “Anyway, even without amnesia, you won’t remember a thing.” He snickered.

I loathed him right there and I could bet my life I had wanted to murder him once before.

I’d stab him in a different way. “I’ll take them all tomorrow.”

He snapped to his strict posture. “Tomorrow? You’re committing suicide?”

“Well it seems that I am.”

His lips arched to a silly devilish grin. “Tomorrow it is then.”

Someone was texting me, maybe one of my animal friends. His phonebook name was Fart-thing. “The abandoned house off Green Street. 12 midnight.”

I didn’t know any abandoned house in Green Street and even if I did, I won’t go there. I needed to read eight books this evening for tomorrow so I turned off my phone and started to flip my book open. Then my mom stepped in.

“Wil, I thought you might want to have this. You were holding it after the accident.” She said as she unfolded her palm to reveal a ring, its silver surface glinting. Upon giving me that, she left bearing hope I might remember something. But then she came back, displaying an astonished look in her face. She mused, “You’re studying?”

“Well, I’m hungry and I’m just dining on these books, if that’s what it seems.”

“Studying on your own?”

“Come on, Mom. Is there anybody with me besides you? It’s not like you can do engineering.”

“No, it’s just – Never mind.” She left. It didn’t seem like she knew me after all.

I scrutinized the ring. On the inner surface, it was etched in flowing letters: We are One.

I didn’t have much time to waste to give it much thought. I flipped my book open and saw a pitiful sight. What a mess! This isn’t even writing anymore. Mysteriously, as I turn more pages, another handwriting appeared. More legible and not crooked. It was more like mine.

“YOU CHEATED YOU SCUMBAG OF AN IDIOT!” Mr. Gil yelled at me, his voice booming about the faculty office where many professors watched eagerly. He went on, “I’ll see to it you get expelled.”

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “You were there, Sir.” Guarding like a filthy vulture waiting for meat to scavenge. “If I have cheated, you would have noticed.”

“Your scores in my last exams are mostly zeroes. Your highest score is half the passing. Then you suddenly perfect all your tests with a review of one night!”

“With all due respect Sir, next time find more difficult questions so that I would need what I reviewed on. If I hadn’t read those books, I would still have perfected them.” I went for the door and slammed it in their stunned faces.

Now, I’d stabbed him. Deep.

The miracle spread by word of gaping mouths. I suddenly became the most popular guy in school. Many came to see me, asking what cheating tricks I used to pull it off. If using stock knowledge to perfect exams is cheating, then let it be.

But what terrible scores I had had before. Zeroes? Seriously? Was I that bad at it? Well I think amnesia changes a lot.

Gwen came to see me too. She congratulated me with a kiss on the cheek that my mom kept on hitting. Then she shook my hand and I saw it. The silver ring.

Why did she have the other? And why was the other with me? I couldn’t gain the courage to ask her.

Opportunities came along. I became a quizzer for the college and I always brought them the highest prize. Every club wanted me in. I refused half of them. With my schedules tight and crowded, I still found time to read. Then my fourth-year theoretical explorations was featured in an international journal. It was about a nearly ideal energy-generating device that used magnetic suspension and concepts that not even my professors could understand.

I did not go as far as special relativity, it had suffered enough vandalism. I won’t put my name on such a field that almost every physicist had explored. However my career reached its pinnacle when my face made it to the Times, naming me as The Most Intelligent Man on earth.

Soon enough, Harvard came for me. They offered a course that’d get me into working at the Large Hadron Collider in Geneva, Switzerland in three years. It meant I won’t come to my fifth year with my classmates, with Gwen. I’d have to leave them behind.

It was the night after the graduation day. My three forest friends came up to me and Craig Furtein, the tiger, said, “You still don’t remember us?”

The frog, Henry Harrison, walked up to me, holding a handkerchief. “We told your mom we’re having fun for a while.” He thrust the cloth to my mouth and heavy sleep overwhelmed me.

I felt like I had slept through another coma when I found myself in a dingy dimly lit mansion. My body felt so heavy I could not stand. Squinting through my eyelids that weighed like tons, I could barely make out the shadows that moved around me, their voices fading in the incessant ringing in my ears. I could hear people yelling, an erratic siren of an approaching ambulance and the whispering of my own voice.

“Francis?”

A man lay splayed next to me, bathing in a pool of blood.

Then someone stirred me awake. “Wil.”

It was the porcupine, Dan. “You’re finally awake.”

It was already the break of dawn. I demanded, “Why did you bring me here? I’m off to Cambridge this afternoon. I have to go home.”

“It’s that stupid scholarship!” Craig growled.

“This is kidnapping. It’s a cruel way to treat a friend.”

Craig said, “You almost sound like him.”

“Do you know who I am?”

Henry replied, “You have amnesia, we don’t.”

“I am the most intelligent man on this planet.”

They stared blankly at me. I won’t talk to them ever again.

Dan looked encouraging but with the indelible look of menace in his eyes. “It’ll take only a while. Let’s do it.”

“Do what?”

He passed me an orange shabby basketball. “It’s two on two.”

“Look I don’t play ball.”

Henry chuckled, “It was Francis who didn’t play ball.”

I had to admit the curved edge of the sphere fitted my palms so perfectly as if they were molded to hold it. A tinge of desire welled within me. One heavy sigh and the trembling in my knees yielded to comfort and confidence.

As I played, everything was instinct. The dribble, the pass and the shots. My feet had their own minds. Why have I forgotten so much?

Toweling ourselves in the basketball court in the yard of the deserted house, Craig looked unlike himself. He sat so pensive, deep in his thoughts.

He spoke, “You’re gonna regret it.”

All three pairs of eyes were suddenly on me. “It’s my future.”

Henry said, “We don’t know how you turned into a freaking genius but you won’t be happy there.”

“I’ll be happy there and I want to go there.” I stressed.

Craig shrugged, “You don’t even know what makes you happy anymore. You’ve forgotten everything.”

“Then tell me, who is Francis? Is he dead?”

Dread surfaced in me. They nodded. Craig explained, “We’re your lifelong buddies. He was your college best friend.”

A throbbing pain shot through my skull. The images that flashed were clear as daylight. I have killed my best friend.

Francis had calm blue eyes, dark silk tufts, and a smile that could put entropy at ease. His voice floated, “Hi, I’ll be your tutor. I’ll help you.”

They were at the library. “This is Gwen, my girlfriend. You must have met in class.”

The motorcycle ride. “The light’s green! WAIT!”

“Wow, that was dangerously awesome.”

He was scanning his books. “What a mess! This isn’t even writing anymore.”

Francis was with Gwen, their hands fastened inseparably. And I was trying to blink away my thoughts but still they materialized. If Francis was not here, will I have a chance with her?

Then the rings. He was saying to me, “What do you think? Are they good enough?”

Then the accident. “Hold it slow. We still have to graduate.”

I shouted, my voice lost in the winds, “IT’S FINE!”

“Wil, we’re going too fast!”

A truck whizzed from a corner. Then it was pitch black.

I woke up dazed, my body sprawled on the pavement. I suffered bruises and a few fractures. A couple of feet away, Francis lay maimed and bloody. A pool of red spread rapidly around him. His breathing was labored. He was still alive, but barely.

I forced a few words out, “You have to live. You cannot die.” My only thoughts were I should be in his place. I ought to have met this fate alone.

When I snapped out of my recollection, I only found more reason to leave.

The baggage was ready. It was time to part with my past and live out an entirely different future. But I went to gaze upon the violated pages of my books for a last time. My handwriting was once a mess. How humiliating. Francis, how did I become you? How did I even surpass you? My will ought to have been so determined.

I reached for another book and toppled a pile. A few books dropped to the floor. Then as if summoned, the silver ring rolled towards me, its sound so eerily familiar. Another fragment of my lost memories seeped into my consciousness.

It was the night of the accident. Francis lay helplessly but he managed to speak against all that pain raking his body, “I know what you feel for her. Promise me you’ll take care of her.” He gruelingly slipped the ring from his finger and rolled it towards me. “Please…” Then his eyes shut with a smooth finality.

I ran as fast as I could. And then she was there, sitting in solitude in the silence of the city library. It was their favorite spot.

She looked up curiously. “You’re off to Harvard. Have you forgotten something?”

I did. A lot. I panted, “No. I remembered something.”

She looked perplexed. I reached into my pocket and showed the ring to her. “I have a promise to fulfill.”

She didn’t speak.

“You see I was the worst idiot. My life is laid in front of me and I was too blind to see it.”

She found her voice, “What do you mean? How about your dreams?”

“I’ve hurt you more than you could feel,” I said, “You see, you are my dream. Although my mind forgot, my heart remembered.”

I slipped the ring into my fingers and held her hand, “Now I’ll take care of you.”

i laid on a white hospital bed in a white hospital room. the only color besides the white that consumed the room was the red blood that lay beside me in a bag. a women came over and pulled it from my skin. 

i fell back into the darkness.

i believe it has been just a few days since my last blackout. since the doctor told me i was slowly crumbling into pieces. since the doctor told me i was broken and could never be fixed. since i realized i'd be better off dead.

i started hyperventilating yesterday. i couldn't breathe. i couldn't live anymore. i simply expired. i remember so vividly falling apart right there on the bed, gritting my teeth at the pain that spread through my body. i remember nobody being there for me. i remember all of everything. how i was teased. how i was bullied for being a 'nerd'. how i wasn't average. how i needed to be cured. how i should kill myself. how my parents left me. ashamed. how i had no one. i remember all of everything. so vividly, clearly. 

the doctor said i was dead for a full fifteen minutes. i was dead. i was gone from this world. 

when i came back to life, i remember my heavy breaths, i remember staring at the walls for endless moments in the room, i remember the pain i felt in my head, my body. it pulsed with pain.  i remember being alone.

about three days later i heard the door squeak open. the doctor found me, surprised that i was alive. 

i was still immobile.

but i was alive.

i gasped as the doctor stuck a needle into my head. He pulled up on the syringe, pulling blood from it. i was stuck. 

he left shortly after, and all i could do was watch the white wall, immobile, not average, different, just like me.

he came back a day later. he said it was a miracle. he said i was cured.

but if i was cured, why can't i move?

but if i was cured, why do i still feel this way? 

I woke up with a start. I gazed around in the room that I was in. Brown desk, blue walls, brown bookshelf. I was home. But something felt off. I suddenly felt the itch to do things I wasn't supposed to. Things that nobody was allowed to do until you were 25. 

What was wrong with me? I can't be any different now. I've worked so hard to be average. 

Realizing I had school in just a few hours, I pulled myself up out of my bed and got dressed.

This was going to be a long day.

"What's the answer, Miss.Pierce?" my math teacher asked.

A feeling of ecstasy filled me as I answered.

"23532"

The class laughed at me.

Was I wrong??

"Miss.Pierce, I was asking for number three." he tapped his foot impatiently.

"Sir, I think you calculated wrong." I said unconsciously.

As I gasped at my own words, murmurs filled the room with judgement and fear.

Fear that I wasn't average anymore. 

"Miss.Pierce, detention."

I immediately fired back, "Sorry, just thought that you would've wanted the correct answer." 

What was wrong with me?

As the teacher got even more red, I flushed. I picked up my things and ran out of the room. 

Still I could feel the aroma of judgement around me. People staring, looking, watching for my differences. A thousand eyes surrounding me, driving me to the brink of insanity. 

I.

Heat. It seems such a primitive thing, the sun, it has always shone, always burned and concluded the shining of the stars and moon temporarily. In this moment it has awakened me. Heat. I try to soak it in but thirst reminds me of this thing called mortality. I don't have time to use observing the affects of this solar phenomenon.

I suppose trying to figure out how or why I woke up here this way, would be the first inclination of most but my need for water exceeds my desire to look back on the path behind.

I need something, but which way is the most likely to lead me to that need. Toward the sun is dry and cracked ground, mud, breaking up under the relentless day. The direction forward has grass leading to trees. Trees mean life, roots and Earth. This is the way.

Water, I see it's clarity before the word itself has had time to conceptualize in my mind. Cool, moving. Rushing? It's moving in one direction. It came from somewhere and it is going somewhere. Which somewhere is the somewhere I should go? I cup water I my hands and drink it steadily.

Since waking up decisions have burdened me! Why can I not meander? Why must I think of the consequence of every choice I make.

Is this freewill? Freedom? I must make these choices?

I don't feel free. I look down at my body, nothing restricting me or my movements, but then no protection for the vulnerability of my skin either. Perhaps this is the tribute to be paid for freedom. Our choices may be required but they, all things equal, should protect us the way clothes do.

So are choices a burden? I come to the conclusion that just was fabric has weight so do decisions; just as cloth can protect so it can block, so it can take away from our human experience.

Choices have weight, but they can protect, even sometimes block, and even so, sometimes take away from our human experience. Water makes it descent into my body satisfying not only the damage of the heat but something else too, something primal and strong. I hug myself as my stomach cramps - I remember this all too well, this also woke me - hunger. Since the water is satisfying I take more in and gulp it down. I lose myself in trying to satisfy that I don't feel it all coming back up until it is too late. An unpleasantly bitter taste fills my mouth, desperation causes me to wretch again. My eyes grow wide watching the yellow substance plop onto the ground in front of me. Too much. First I was thirsty and needed it, now I've had too much and my body has rejected it.

Yellow, hard, spiky, round blooms catch my eye. I look closer at this latest distraction. I look down at the ground, my mess, yellow. Perhaps this bloom is something I need. I pluck off the tree and test its hardness with my hands, I need something harder. A rock sitting just under the rushing water in the stream seems adequate. I hit the bloom with it and green juicy seeds spill out. I put the bloom to my lips and slurp it into my mouth. I spill on my chin and revel in the taste of this new experience. My stomach agrees with this decision beckoning me to eat more, more, and more. I look back at my mess by the moving water - too much.

Movement yanks me out of my consciousness. I stare at the ground and force my eyes to focus. Ants - their abdomens full of a clear, honey colored substance. I want to taste it. I pick the ant up and put in my mouth. It's legs move until I bring my jaw down to kill it. The juice tastes of life but the ant tastes of death. I pick up another - this time bring it's back end to my mouth and sucking the honey out that way. It isn't much but it is enough for when there is no water nearby. I gently put the ant back down to begin it's cycle of collecting water and nutrients again.

Something troubles me. Danger? I look above me, none that can be seen. In front, behind, both arm's sides, none to be seen. It feels different than danger but somehow just as upsetting. I hold my palms up to my eyes and follow the lines. Why do I have these lines? Doesn't another creature have such lines? Where are the me's that are like me? I must find them and know them - know what they know. We must meet and share our resources! Do they know of this honey ant? Do they know about drinking too much water? Not enough water? That trees have blooms? I can teach them these things. Oh, but what could they teach me? What if the lines on their hands are different? What else could be different? What do they look like? Action strikes and I run to the stream, I look up at the light to be sure it's there, down at the water. I see it again, movement on the water, not in it. It's moving just as I am moving and so this must be me!

Life leads to more life. The grass led to the trees which led to the water which led to Earth which could lead to animals, which could lead to more me's.

I must go - my purpose of this moment is found! I will search always for more life than I have seen to that point. In doing so, I must live more in each passing moment. Every moment is a choice to move to the next one.

This is how my life is created.

What could another me show me? How would it feel to touch? What could we learn together?

I walk along the water - every me must thirst so following the stream seems the surest way. I must be sure it doesn't change directions like the "space" around me does from time to time, when that happens the trees and the grass dance. I want to move my body, and so I do, arms everywhere. Legs jumping and kicking, skipping and leaping. My heart pounds heavily and I relish the tingles happening in my body. I feel something strong - alive. I feel alive. I collapse into the muddy bank of the stream. It feels good to fall I am not feeling so many things now.

My body feels different now, moving is good, falling and dancing are fun. Something washes over the tingles I was feeling. My pictures grows smaller and now I am falling in a different way. Nothingness.

II.

No light is peaking through the window - "5: 46 AM!" my phone is blinking with a light much too strong for my eyes at this hourly state of drowsiness.

Welp, no time to waste!

Except, is any time truly wasted? I look at my phone and the promise of tasks it brings, today just isn't a day for those tasks.Today is not that day. Rest is the first priority. Sleep.

Light! - 7:45 AM my phone shines. Time seems to become tangible.

I hug my coffee with my hands. What is my current situation now?

Hunger? Yes. Food? Plenty of eggs in the fridge.

Two sunny side up eggs later I have compiled my working list for my full day of little resolutions. Intelligence must be used wisely. I realize I could ride this wave of unimpeded mental capacity to tackling world issues, but see, this would be selfish of me. The world must change as it will and I should only affect that change in the ways that are most natural to who I am and the life I lead on this Earth.

In this particular order:

- call mom

- resign

-book flight

- withdrawal my savings

- pay the last month's rent

- drive my plants over to mom's

- pack

- GO

Many stories, quite a few "goodbye" attempts, internet usage, other phone calls, soil on the carpet of my trunk, a resignation notice, a passport photo taken 6 years ago, and a heavy backpack later, I am sitting, waiting and snoozing.

My first flight of many to be sure, ceteris paribus.

III.

Sounds weaving through my ears and over my brain awaken me. Soft, plush sheets are warming me to wake up. I stretch as the bed massages my sides, and yawn. What a lovely thing to yawn! It feels so natural, a connection to other living beings of many types. In a world this evolved I find I cling to my primal ways. The world around is completely created. I yearn to know what it must've been like to walk different terrains, to actually travel the world instead of watching it through my virtual lenses. What makes me special? We all have artificial intelligence in here, it isn't mainstream yet. I am the most intelligent person on the Earth but so is my next door neighbor. So, what then could intelligence add now? I don't know what a sunburn feels like because I am too logical to stay in the sun for that long. I don't know what it's like to study for something because I already know the answers. I don't know what it feels like to learn from my mistakes because I don't get the chance to make them. Intelligence has made my life immensely more simple but truly, what has it added? I have been trapped in this prison for too long, my creativity has been killed. Just to have this brain, I have chosen to stay. I don't want it anymore, it's a weight, and expectation.

I want to experience humanity, mortality and life.

A decision is reached.

This is the best choice I can make for myself in this moment -  the wisest choice.

I walk out of my dwelling and calmly down the hallway as if I am meant to be there because truthfully, I am meant to be there in this now. I think myself through the moments that are about to occur; I will walk out of this door, turn right, walk down the corridor and straight out the front door. The computer that has been part of my brain, body and soul will deactivate. Turn right. I don't know how much will transfer, or even what I will know. Down the corridor. I was born in this building. Front door. The only thing I have ever seen. Opens. is this desert through it's windows. Heat.