One
As fast as his head was smashed into the concrete wall, his eyes opened, and he was relieved to be back in his bed at the hospital.
This would be his final dream of being in prison.
He assumed the reason for this had likely been a result of that blow to
the head in the dream, which must have killed his incarcerated counterpart.
Months began to seem as if they were passing like they were weeks, and soon Nate had been in this hell for almost three years, wasting away in a haze of misery. His spirit became withered, empty, and defeated over the years he spent hospitalized and the weight of the side effects, as the involuntary movements of tardive dyskinesia became a constant reminder of the anguish he had endured, more like a physical representation of his words, leading him to be forced into doing something he couldn't control.
▼▼▼
It was a cold and bitter day when an attorney delivered the news of his third and final worst fear coming true.
The mother of his children had the family courts in their home state find him unfit to be a parent, which resulted in all his parental rights being permanently stripped away. He also read in the large packet he was served with that his son and daughter were going to be adopted by their new stepfather, and their last names were going to be changed.
His heart and soul were ripped away from him; he was left with nothing but pain where there used to be love.
In the depths of his sorrow, he had realized that there wasn't much else of him to take and wondered, What will I have left when the hurt is gone? What will I become then?
He cursed the spite-filled woman for what was clearly her victory lap around the grave where she buried his heart.
Nate was dragged into the depths of his despair, finding himself caught in a devastating downward spiral. He looked at his wrist to the tattoo of the names of his children and decided he had cried the last tear he ever would allow himself to shed for being stripped of his parental rights.
CHAPTER 4
Finally, the day arrived when Nate was deemed fit for release.
Though physically free from the confines of the psychiatric hospital, the scars of his journey remained etched upon his psyche. He emerged into a world he barely recognized, a changed man. Haunted by the indelible mark left by his harrowing experience.
After leaving the hospital, he was unsure if he was experiencing the residual effects of his near-death experience or a continuation of the mind-bending hallucinations. Colors became more vibrant, lights got brighter around him, and he occasionally had instances when whatever technology was in his vicinity would malfunction or stop working.
The most bizarre occurrence he experienced was what he knew prior to his accident as linear time became distorted and didn't seem to work the way it used to. He would lose or gain hours unexpectedly.
Regardless of being burdened by physical disability and tormented by the haunting memories of his past, he had no place to go and no one to turn to, so he sought refuge in the numbing embrace of methamphetamine. It was a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating weight of this reality, to dull the pain that threatened to consume him entirely.
After the hospital, every time he would go to sleep, he would dream of his children; then, as his mind pulled him out of his slumber, it was almost like they were being taken away from him over and over, again and again in some twisted never-ending loop that he could no longer endure.
"I wish there were a way to program a dream," he would say.
Instead, what he found was the longer he stayed awake. Eventually, his body would shut down, and he would black out. When this happened...there would be no dreaming, only the darkness of the abyss that swallowed his mind.
But he realized that all he did was trade one form of torment for another, the lesser of two evils he felt.
As Nate delved deeper into the realm of drug abuse, his world became an increasingly distorted and twisted reflection of his inner turmoil. The methamphetamine wrought havoc on his perception, warping his senses and fragmenting his already fragile reality.
The boundaries between the real and the imagined blurred into a haze of confusion.
It was during this time that he started noticing number 111 everywhere he went. He found out this phenomenon was known as 'Angel numbers' and became curious about their meaning in his life. He began researching and came across gematria, also known as Hebrew numerology.
He found a gematria calculator where he could enter words or names and find out what their numerical value was.
He would enter his name, which equaled 65, which was further calculated by breaking that single number in two and adding them together for the additional sum of 11.
Then he entered his children's names; his daughter equaled 56, and
he noticed that his number reversed and his son's name equaled 55.
Filled with intrigue by the close sequence of their names, he found that adding his daughter's 56 to his son's 55 came to 111.
This discovery became even more astonishing after he realized that his daughter, who was born on August 19th, 2006, was exactly one year, one month, and one day older than her brother, who was born on September 20th, the following year.
This was no coincidence, considering they were born years before his accident. He even went as far as to subtract their birthdays from each other, and to his amazement, the difference equaled 10101.
What does this mean? Has my life been planned from the start? Is this all a simulation? Are my children even real?
He had to talk to someone about this. He decided to call his friend,
Scott, who would always lend an ear to Nate when he needed it.
"Dude, I need to show you this gematria thing. It verifies our lives are predetermined. If that is true, then we are not responsible for anything we have ever done!" Nate exclaimed.
"That's an interesting take. You should come over. I have some videos you may be interested in." Scott replied.
Obsessing over the significance of this only accelerated his descent into madness. There was, however, a major development that had gone unnoticed amongst his fixation on gematria. Something he longed for but would go unnoticed until he made the trip to Scott's house.
Upon arriving, Nate told Scott about his newfound interest in the spiritual and meta-physical aspects of life he was discovering.
Scott, who had an otherworldly aura to him, offered to educate Nate about spirituality and how it could help change his fatalist mindset and unhealthy lifestyle into something healthier and more positive.
Nate would watch the videos Scott would show him about the law of attraction and self-affirmations and even gave him a book to help guide him on his journey, by author Joe Dispenza titled Becoming Supernatural, to show him that he was capable of healing himself without doctors or drugs.
Nate disregarded much of the spiritual media and became more interested in Scott's collection of videos on ancient and forbidden knowledge.
"I've seen enough of that happy-hippy nonsense. You can't heal your body with positive thoughts. You need the right drugs, and that is a fact." Nate snapped in anger as he brushed off his friends' suggestions.
Scott then played a video that instantly got Nate's attention. It was about ancient knowledge that had a clip from an educational film that was made in the 1950s about energy and electricity and used to be played in schools.
The instructor in the film introduced something called a cold-hot plate, which was a square piece of wood with a copper wire wrapped around it. He put a cast iron pan onto the plate, then revealed that he could cook an egg in seconds and added a bit of motor oil instead of traditional cooking oil for its thickness to emphasize how quickly the egg would cook. The man proceeded to crack the egg and poured it into the pan, and it instantly began to sizzle and fry. What came next was something that gave Nate the most radical idea that had ever entered his mind. The instructor lifted the pan with the still cooking egg in it to reveal that the frying pan, as well as the wooden plate that it was cooking on a fraction of a second ago, were both cool to the touch. The man in the video, then placed a newspaper on the cold hot plate and placed the frying pan on top of it and the egg began to cook again. The instructor in the video declares, 'With this device, you can sit on top of it, place the pan in your lap, and safely cook your eggs while reading the morning paper.
This is when Nate came up with a theory based off of the books he had read about the revolutionary electrical engineering of Nikola Tesla and how he was able to provide power wirelessly from a single tower, and what he had read about the free energy of the universe, which is all around us; that energy has an intent, and there is a way to harness that intent and direct it somehow without the need for dangerous power lines controlled by tyrant power companies.
This wasn't the only discovery he stumbled upon; the ailment affecting his quality of life seemed to be no longer be affecting him.
Scott brought to his attention that he didn't appear to be suffering from very noticeable and uncontrolled muscle movements.
Nate took a moment and sat with a stillness he hadn't experienced in
what felt like an eternity and smiled after realizing that Scott was right.
"What medication are you taking currently?" Scott asked.
"Uhm…meth." Nate responded sounding embarrassed.
"No prescription medication?" Scott questioned with a hint of disbelief.
"It's a bit more complex. I was tired of having to hideout and smoke from a pipe all the time. This was around the time I quit smoking cigarettes and began vaping. I wondered if there was a way to vape meth, so I started adding it to my vape fluid."
"Wow, if that is true, you could have just stumbled on to something," Scott said.
In a strange twist of fate, he noticed that the very drug that had be- come his refuge al-so seemed to alleviate the symptoms of tardive dyskinesia, the debilitating neurological condition that had plagued him.
The involuntary muscle movements that had ruled his body for so long were now under his control, subdued by the potent effects of the stimulant.
"It would only be proof of what I was saying earlier about your happy- hippy healing nonsense. All it takes is the right drug." Nate said with confidence.
"I was trying to help your attitude and outlook more than your physical issue. I will admit to strongly believing that all negative man-made creations are currently being misused and will be revealed to have a positive purpose one day." Scott replied.
To Nate, this revelation seemed like a cruel paradox, a negative turned into a twisted positive. This was the first time he discovered the ability of transmuting negatives into positives.
For now, Methamphetamine became a bittersweet solace, a double- edged sword that granted him respite from his physical suffering while ensnaring him further in the treacherous grip of addiction. Though fleeting and illusory, the sense of control he regained over his body became a seductive lure that masked the detrimental consequences ahead.
▼▼▼
As his dependency on methamphetamine deepened, Nate's perception of the world became increasingly fragmented and detached. Shadows danced menacingly in the periphery of his vision, whispers and murmurs echoed through his mind like haunting echoes of his time in the hospital.
The strange hallucinations that once frightened him now took on a twisted allure, drawing him further into a web of delusion and self- destruction.
Yet, even in this distorted reality, a glimmer of Nate's former self re- mained. The same determination that had once propelled him to fight against his afflictions now flickered dimly, buried beneath layers of addic- tion and despair. Deep down, he yearned for a way out, re-demption, and a chance to rebuild the shattered pieces of his fractured life.
But as the days turned into months and the months into years, Nate's struggle with methamphetamine addiction exacted a heavy toll. The nega- tive consequences multiplied, eroding his physical and mental well-being, severing ties to the world he once knew.
The fleeting relief he experienced was eclipsed by the havoc wreaked upon his rela-tionships, health, and sense of self.
In the face of this destructive path, Nate stood at a crossroads.
With the strength that remained within him, he had a choice to make— a choice be-tween continuing down a road that promised only more profound anguish or summoning the courage to seek help and embark on a path to re- covery.
In that vulnerable state, a seemingly random memory from his acci- dent pleasantly took away all the conflicts in his mind.
The bearded man who cradled his broken body and the comforting presence he emit-ted, lingered like a flickering flame in the abyss. It offered a glimmer of optimism amidst the uncertainty, a testament to being resilient and continuing to fight.
Though the allure of control over his physical affliction had initially enticed him, Nate realized that true freedom and healing could not be found in the clutches of addiction. With the weight of his choices pressing upon him, he resolved to confront his demons and reclaim his life from the clutches of methamphetamine.
In the depths of that profound stillness, Nate held onto the belief that he stood a fighting chance against the formidable odds that lay ahead.
CHAPTER 5
Nate found sobriety easy, especially after realizing he no longer need- ed drugs to counteract the effects of tardive dyskinesia. His daily routine was beginning to feel some-what normal at a time when he had given up all hope of ever attaining that feeling.
In a sudden realization, Nate's gaze fell upon the digital wall clock, it was 4:44 pm on Monday, July 4th, and he had a barbecue that his friend Aubert invited him to attend. As he pulled out his phone to look at the text message with the address, he was amused that the time he received was al- so 4:44 pm; the synchronicity struck him with a profound sense of significance.
Leaving the confines of his own house, Nate summoned an Uber to whisk him away to Aubert's residence. Their friendship had been close since they met in their teens; almost brotherly would better represent their bond.
As Nate arrived at Aubert's, there were many people he was unfamiliar with drinking, chatting, and hanging around the grill; his presence proved a surprise to his friend, who thought he wouldn't show up. Weaving past the large congregation of friends on the front porch, Aubert, who was no stranger to navigating through a crowd as he bore an uncanny re-semblance to the NBA player, Chris Paul and was notorious for signing fake auto- graphs for the occasional youth, was a little more intoxicated than usual to- day.
"Aye-o, brutha!" Aubert shouted loud enough to draw every eye in the vicinity to wit-ness the bearhug he embraced Nate with, then pulling him in- side.
Once in the house, Nate couldn't help but notice the air was tinged with a sweet smell of barbecue chicken fresh off the grill. Nate followed Aubert through the house and into the backyard, he saw a beautiful woman who had to do a double take because he didn't believe his eyes. For a moment, it looked like the mother of his children, but he was soon corrected and for- mally introduced.
"Nate, I'd like you to meet my fiancé, Alana."
They greeted each other and Nate offered his congratulations, there was something more than just a slightly similar appearance Alana shared with his ex. This was something dif-ferent—a familiar feeling of unknown causes. The sentiment, mood, and the touch of their skin as they shook hands was familiar. He couldn't explain it but had to let it go.
The evening went on and every time Nate glimpsed Alana, a new strange, yet familiar visualization flashed in his mind. Like they knew each other by some means. After realizing that it must have been his mind wanting to associate her with someone he used to know, was when he decided that it wasn't good for him to feel this way about his friend's future wife and that he needed to make his exit.
Summoning courage, Nate took Aubert aside, his words laced with culpability.
"Aubert, bro, I don't know how I can explain it, but trust me when I say I gotta go. Alana reminds me of Kat, and I'm uncomfortable being here. I need to get away from you and everything I'm realizing I have some unresolved stuff that's been bottled up from the past starting to surface and wounds I didn't know needed healing. It feels like I am still in a coma, and this is some sort of bizarro world. I need some time to get lost and find myself." Nate's words, enigmatic and veiled in uncertainty, left Aubert perplexed, struggling to grasp the importance of the situation.
Uncertainty was engraved upon his features as Nate walked out of Aubert's door and vanished into the night.
The mass of Nate's words remained in the room; their gravity pulled a mixture of confusion, concern, and a flicker of hope for the future of a man he called Brother.
▼▼▼
Returning home, Nate found himself consumed in a heavy cloak of de- pression. The encounter with Aubert had stirred up a deep longing for his fiancé Alana, a woman he had never met. The ache for her weighed heavily upon him and bit his heart.
Seeing sparkles of what could only be defined as shared memories, Nate immersed himself in old photographs, desperately searching for a face familiar to hers that could explain all these moments of joy, love, and bitter- sweet pain that loitered within him. But the search proved a waste of time. He just knew that while she vaguely resembled his former partner, the visions he was experiencing were of nothing he had ever felt with his ex. The love and desire for Alana was more potent than anything he had ever been subject to before in his life.
Maybe this is what love at first sight is supposed to be like. My mind is daydreaming about a potential future with her.
He tried reasoning with himself before the feelings could become un- bearable. Fueled by a desire to escape the anguish, he made a difficult decision—to get away from his actual painful reminders and not just the potential ones he couldn't explain. With a heavy heart, Nate loaded a few select belongings in his SUV and left for a destination unknown.
Within his emotional turmoil, a vivid recollection resurfaced—an echo of a beach. It was a place where he had never been but felt he needed to be. The purpose to find this place emerged as he embarked on a journey to Florida, the land of beautiful coastlines.
Resolved to unravel the enigma that had consumed his life since his motorcycle accident, Nate set out on a solitary quest for answers—with every strange twist of fate, serving as fuel for his insatiable thirst for answers and growing hunger for meaning.
He was seeking out even the quietest whispers for truth and any hint that he's on the right path in his quest to save him from a once blurry villain, who has since come into sight…himself.
CHAPTER 6
Many months had come and went while Nate explored more profoundly into the labyrinth of his existence. Along the way, he encountered a unique variety of characters, each offering a piece of the elusive puzzle. The sequences of his journey intertwined, leading him down a path lined with secrets, cryptic agendas, and clandestine revelations.
Undervaluing that his relentless pursuit would soon thrust him into a realm of even more considerable uncertainty and jeopardy searching for answers about his existence and the fragments of an afterlife he saw before his soul was ripped back to a now unfamiliar world.
The web of intrigue intensified around him, menacing to ensnare his every move. Hundreds of miles of roads had taken a toll on his body and mind, but his spirit and its all-consuming fire that was fueled by the hope of liberation from the never-ending trail of breadcrumbs that have left him feeling like his life is lost and will be found in Hell.
The decision to get off the road was made easy when he realized that he just put his last forty dollars in the gas tank of the no-so-fuel conservative Dodge SUV. Realizing his gas gauge was creeping steadily towards the 'E' on the gas gauge, he saw a sign that read straight for Tampa and left exit for Space Coast; driving southbound on interstate 75, he took the left exit, which 'just resonated with him' when really he made the decision because Space Coast reminded him of a cartoon he used to watch called Space Ghost: Coast to Coast.
Nate was devoid of material wealth and a place to call his own. He arrived in Melbourne just as his gas light came on to indicate he had 30 miles until the tank was dry.
With little means at his disposal, he ventured out onto the sandy shores, the vast expanse of the beach stretching before him. He walked the long, majestic coastline until the sunset and a stunning full moon took its place.
In a moment of vulnerability and surrender, he sank to his knees, raising his gaze towards the heavens above.
A plea, laden with earnestness, escaped his lips—an admission of his desire to do good and become a better person and his need for guidance and support.
Dropping to his knees and looking towards the vastness of space, he pleaded to anyone who'd listen to him,
"You know I want to do good. Please, I need your help."
Immediately conspicuous and seemingly in response to Nate's genuine request, the night sky offered him an attention-grabbing display. Two stars grew to be more dazzling and radiated with an intensity that one would expect to see from the cockpit or a spacecraft while exploring the galaxy. It seemed as if they were shining down upon him, casting their ethereal light upon the darkened beach. Around this time, he had made the conscious decision to put his ego in check, and he started to chip away at his armor of arrogance every time he noticed it becoming more restricting. His first
act was not to let himself believe that something that remarkable happened just for him, even though he was the only one who seemed to notice. But on this night, his ego may have been validated if given the chance.
Nate's weary soul, though perplexed, felt a glimmer of hope and reassurance in that celestial embrace. Though he may not fully realize the implication of those stars, he accepted the moment as a sign—a reminder that even in his moments of despair, the universe held the potential for direction and transformation.
Nate walked back to his SUV that was parked close to the beach to sleep in his vehicle that night; he noticed the in-dash digital clock displayed 1:11 am right before he dosed off.
▼▼▼
The morning sun edged into the parking lot; Nate stirred from his restless slumber within the confines of his vehicle. A sense of weariness clung to him; the trials of his journey were written upon his face. In search of a break and some food, he made his way to the Daily Bread, a shelter for those in need.
Amongst the sea of faces seeking solace within the shelter's walls, a sudden arrival captured Nate's attention—a white cargo van, its presence set against the backdrop of the austere surroundings.
From the vehicle emerged a barefoot man who was beyond question, untethered from the constraints of societal structures. As if pointed by a divine compass of unseen energy, the man marched with purpose through the swarming parking lot, not so much as casting a look at any of the other dozens of homeless people with his laser-like gaze penetrating through the masses to meet Nate's eyes directly.
The driver of the white van approached Nate, and with an aura of curiosity and seriousness, the man posed a question that vibrated intensely within Nate's soul.
"Do you need a job?" The man asked.
A spark of hope danced in Nate's eyes as he heard the van driver, who had an unmistakable accent originating from someplace in the northeast, answer his prayers. He readily accepted the surprising offer.
There was an implicit intuition linking them—a cognizance of awareness of the unified war that brought them together in that undreamt moment.
The man had dark shoulder-length curly hair and appeared in his late forties. Introducing himself as Michael, the man extended a warm hand of familiarity and made known a more casual name, "You can call me Mikey; I'm from New York."
In the protection of Mikey, Nate felt a magnetic pull, a mysterious link that defied the margins of their sentience. A radiance was instantly recognizable to Nate, who looked en-tranced by the brilliant flow of light surrounding Mikey, encompassing him in an ethereal glow that made Nate's senses clear.
Observing Nate squinting in the luminous glare, Mikey chuckled, his voice a soothing melody amidst the morning bustle.
"Bro, you need some sunglasses, or the sun's going to burn your eyes
out," he remarked with a knowing smile.
Concern for Nate's well-being permeated his words, warning against the relentless glare threatening to sear his sensitive eyes. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes of the care and attentiveness that Mikey extended toward a stranger.
A flicker of memory danced through Nate's mind, an image seared into his consciousness. It was a snapshot captured during a moment of innocent self-expression, a selfie that had yielded a mysterious revelation. On his phone, an inexplicable image had materialized; a winged being crafted from pure, radiant light seemed like the light had emerged from Mikey. The memory now resurfaced, entwined with the enigmatic encounter with Mikey as if the universe conspired to lead Nate on a path shrouded in divine intervention.
This was just one of the many peculiar and unexplained things appearing on his phone since the accident. In one instance, he received a notification from his cloud storage account telling him there was a data breach with his password 421 years ago. Still, he became accustomed to simply brushing these occurrences off as meaningless technological glitches.
Mikey had to pick up his friend who would be working with them today. The coworker introduced himself as Gabriel, who was also from the northeast.
Nate found it fascinating, considering that one of the spiritual texts he read after his near-death experience was The Book of Enoch, a part of The Apocryphal texts that the Catholic church deemed to be 'too extreme' to be contained in the bible.
"This is awesome. I am working with the archangels, Michael and Gabriel," Nate said with a chuckle.
Gabriel looked at Nate profoundly and said, "Most people wouldn't have realized that."
This doesn't feel real, Nate thought.
What followed was an awkward moment where Nate became visibly uncomfortable. That was until Mikey cut the silence with a comment that turned Nate's innocent joke about working with angels into a probable reality,
"Lighten up, bro. What, do you think you're in a coma?"
And that was precisely what Nate had been thinking since his near-death experience.
▼▼▼
They pulled up at an office building in Merritt Island, where they met Mikey's boss, Al, who gave them all the material and supplies to seal coat his roof.
As they labored under the scorching sun, Mikey would tell Nate things like,
"You better do a good job because this is God's roof you're working on,"
And "You shouldn't be so worried. Your ticket to Heaven is punched." With a chuckle afterward, which to Nate was even more fuel added to the speculative fire about his 'Angel theory.'
During the time they spent together, Nate had felt this familiar level of comfort he couldn't remember if he had experienced before like they had always known each other, even though they had officially met five hours ago. Nevertheless, the trio formed a unique bond; Mikey would crack jokes about people from certain religious sects, thinking they were better than others,
"My Jesus is better than your Jesus," Mikey said, mocking them with a smile.
Nate, ever the observer, couldn't help but make connections while weaving conversations amidst the rhythm of their work and drawing attention to the synchronicities that threaded their lives together.
With a sly remark about Mikey's name and his boss Al, reminiscent of the word Allah, Nate unveiled his perception of the intricate tapestry of their existence.
Gabriel, astutely perceptive, acknowledged Nate's insight, recognizing
the keenness within him that surpassed the ordinary realm.
During their lunch break, Gabriel turned his attention to Nate, his gaze filled with intrigue. Curiosity hung in the air as Gabriel inquired about Nate's aspirations. Without hesitation, Nate expressed his deep-seated desire to assist those who found themselves in dire straits, individuals who had no one else to turn to in times of trouble.
A profound longing resonated with Gabriel, who wholeheartedly encouraged Nate to begin his mission within the marginalized communities, where hope often flickered in the face of adversity.
"If you really want to help, start in the ghettos," Gabriel advised.
As the day ended and the sun began its descent, Nate mustered the courage to approach Michael, his heart brimming with gratitude and a new-found understanding of his true identity. With sincerity in his voice, he expressed his profound appreciation for Michael's guidance and support, acknowledging their encounter's profound impact on his life. The air hung heavy with anticipation as Nate awaited Michael's response, his heart yearning for affirmation and recognition.
Amid a pause, Michael's expression remained inscrutable. It was as if the world's weight resided within his silence, carrying untold wisdom and mysteries yet to be unveiled. In that fleeting moment, Nate's soul understood that some truths transcended words, requiring the passage of time and the unwavering commitment to their shared purpose.
Michael finally broke the silence with a meaningful smile, his words carrying the weight of an understood promise. "You're on the right path," he whispered, his voice a gentle breeze as if echoing the sentiments of the universe itself.
It was a reassurance that spoke volumes—a validation that Nate's aspirations and his newfound alliance with Mikey and Gabriel were not mere chance encounters but the intricate threads woven by a more extraordinary design.
"If you plan to stick around and be a beach boy, I suggest checking Clearwater out over on the Gulf Coast. When you get there, you leave all the single ladies sixty-five years old and over alone. Those are mine." Mikey said with a grin.
CHAPTER 7
Nate slept on the same beach in Melbourne he had gone to the night before he met Mikey and Gabe, and he had the most vivid dream.
The next day, Nate groggily opened his eyes. He went back to his SUV to get a coffee, only to find himself getting lightheaded, with his mind seemingly enveloped in unsettling darkness as if a cloud of black smoke had swallowed him. During this eerie moment, he remembered his dream. It was of a solitary door that stood illuminated, drawing his attention. Curiosity overpowering caution, Nate approached the door and pushed it open, stepping into an entirely different realm altogether. It was as if he had been transported to a vibrant bar adorned with a sign that boldly proclaimed KA- VA above the counter.
Nate set out looking for any open place that served coffee and came across a sign that read KAVA BAR. and knew this was where he needed to go.
Nate's senses were immediately assaulted by chatter and clinking glasses. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, as he sat at an open table, a man who seemed to have been engrossed in a lively conversation, which he promptly walked away from, suddenly turned his attention to Nate and asked if he could join him.
Nate welcomed the company, and the man introduced himself as Bastian.
"Ah, you must be the fourth," Bastian remarked, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"The fourth?" Nate echoed, bewildered, immediately following with, "What do you mean?"
Bastian smirked knowingly.
"Well, I've been traveling through parallel universes, meeting different versions of myself. In this particular universe, I am number Three, and you are number Four."
Nate's jaw dropped, struggling to comprehend the gravity of Bastian's statement. "Wait, you mean I'm... Traveling to different dimensions? Make this make sense."
Bastian smirked as he took a sip from his drink.
"You experienced a near-death experience that started your consciousness on a journey through parallel universes. It's quite a wild ride, isn't it?"
Nate's mind raced, attempting to process this mind-bending revelation. "But why? Why is this happening to me?"
Bastian's expression turned serious. "I believe it has something to do with opening doors, my friend. We've opened too many doors, beginning with an entire society of cat people."
Nate's confusion deepened. "Cat people? What does that have to do with anything?"
Bastian sighed. "That's a story for another time, my friend. Let's say I made some mistakes and am now paying the price."
Suddenly changing the subject, Bastian leaned in closer, his voice lowered.
"You know what the numbers mean? They represent the seven deadly sins. And guess what, Nate? You are wrath, also known as Satan."
Nate's breath caught in his throat, his mind reeling with disbelief. Satan and being the embodiment of wrath all seemed too far-fetched, yet the pieces began to fit together, reminding him of his unsettling conversation with his friend Scott, where his hidden anger had been exposed.
Overwhelmed by this newfound knowledge, Nate's heart pounded in his chest. The entire universe seemed to be playing tricks on him. Unable to bear the weight of his revelations any longer, he decided to leave.
Melbourne isn't the place for me right now, Nate decided, determination etching across his face. I need to clear my head and find some answers.
With that, he set his sights on hoping to find solace and understanding among the puzzling idea of being told he was in some parallel universe. Hoping it would explain this twisted reality.
▼▼▼
Nate, wondering where to drive next, remembered hearing about how beautiful Clearwater, Florida, is from Michael.
He used the money that he made working with Mikey and Gabriel to fill his gas tank and embarked on his four-hour journey toward the coastal city.
He found himself lost within the unfamiliar streets of Clearwater for a couple of weeks. The days blended together, each filled with disorientation and aimlessness.
One evening, while seeking relief at a local homeless shelter, Nate struck up a conversation with a man named Andrew and his girlfriend. They shared stories of their struggles, dreams, and desires for a better tomorrow. In a surprising gesture of kindness, Andrew offered Nate the chance to join them on their uncertain journey.
As the night wore on and drinks were shared, Andrew's demeanor took on an eerie intensity. Looking at Nate directly, he said,
"I need you to remember, Nate. Remember what I'm about to tell you.
We knew each other four hundred years ago."
Nate's brows furrowed, uncertainty clouding his features. "Four hundred years ago? What do you mean, Andrew? How is that possible?"
A sly smile curved Andrew's lip. "I know it sounds unbelievable, but it's true. We shared a connection in a time long past. Trust your instincts, Nate. You'll find the truth within you."
Unease settled deep within Nate's bones as he remembered the password data breach notification he had received that said it was from 421 years ago.
This newfound revelation felt far too fantastic, even for his extraordinary experiences. Sensing the potential danger of further entangling himself with Andrew, Nate swiftly decided to distance himself from the enigmatic pair.
Gathering his belongings, Nate bid them a polite farewell, leaving Andrew's mysterious claims behind.
▼▼▼
One evening, Nate sought clarity and went in search of the place where his instinct told him he was most comfortable: the ocean.
Finding himself standing alone on a secluded beach. The sound of rolling waves filled the air, blending with the whispers of his restless thoughts.
At this moment, a stunning woman who had long hair that appeared to be colored aquamarine, gracefully approached him. Her name was Tifflynn, and her presence radiated an air of enchantment.
As their conversation unfolded, Nate poured out his heart, expressing his overwhelming feelings of defeat and disorientation when he told her, "I've never been to Florida, but I feel like I have."
Tifflynn listened intently, her eyes filled with empathy and understanding. With a gentle smile, she offered him a bit of simple yet profound advice - to embrace the present moment and live fully in the here and now.
Feeling a spark of curiosity and trust, Nate allowed himself to be drawn into Tifflynn's world. Without hesitation, she led him into the cool embrace of the ocean waves.
Laughter filled the night as they frolicked in the water, Tifflynn gliding gracefully through the warm gulf coast water, encouraging Nate to hear his heart's desire to stay near the sea.
He realized she was right. He was drawn here by some unknown force. It didn't matter that he didn't have a place to live or even any relatives here; in all his years, this is the place he felt most at home.
Casting away his inhibitions, intuition was now the primary navigator from now on.
In their carefree play, the boundaries of physical connection dissolved, and their lips met in a passionate kiss.
Intoxicated by the raw intensity of the moment, Nate and Tifflynn found themselves entwined in each other's arms. The sea became their playground. The full moon's luminosity enhanced their nocturnal connection, rising up beyond the sky and witnessing the culmination of their desire as they made love within the enchanted flow of tender ocean waves.
Tonight, I am alive.