12:34 PM
Akondo sat in a chair at one side of a two sided desk, his back against it, facing two police officers seated across from him.
His expression was that of slight depression and emotional detachment as he rubbed one hand's fingers on the skin of the other, where a bandage was wrapped around the palm.
"We're sorry to call you at this moment," said the bearded male officer; his voice was firm but gentle. "We've reviewed the post-mortem results, and it appears your mother died of a heart attack. But we do need to ask you some questions. Is that alright?"
Akondo slowly nodded, his voice shaking with the response: "Yas… No… I mean, no problem."
"Alright," the officer went on, professional but empathetic. "We need to know exactly what happened and how your mother died. The 611 call records were unusual. Can you tell us what happened or what you saw?"
The female officer beside him was scribbling in a small notebook, her pen racing across the paper.
"Um… water, please," Akondo muttered, his voice barely audible.
"Of course," the female officer said, thrusting a glass of water into his hands.
His hands were shaking as he took the glass, bringing it closer to his lips.
"How did the cut on your hand happen? We found broken glass in your house with blood," the male officer asked, his eyes intent.
Akondo stopped, the glass at his lips. "Oh… this," he muttered, the glass shaking in his hand."What can I say now? If I say I was inside my mom's body, nobody is going to believe me." He drank again and tried to think clearly. "From a third-person point of view, this would seem impossible. I still don't fully understand myself. How am I supposed to make them understand?"
Putting down the glass on the table, he took a deep breath before continuing, "It was about 9 PM. I was in my room studying at that time. I had eaten too much before that. Maybe because of that, I suddenly felt a great pain in my chest."
"Pain in your chest from eating too much?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe… but that's what I thought. I'm not aware of how it happened , so I don't know," Akondo replied, annoyance now edging his words.
"Hold on, how did you know the time exactly?" the woman officer interjected, her eyes perking up with interest.
"Just before the pain, I received a call from my girlfriend…I looked at the time then. It was somewhere around nine. I cannot be precise, but that is around the time frame," he said, glancing back and forth between the two officers.
"Continue," prompted the male officer, waving his hand for him to proceed.
"I wanted some water, so I went downstairs. I slipped and fell down the stairs. Then… my mom came rushing in, asking what was wrong, but after that, I don't remember anything," said Akondo, his voice cracking slightly.
"What happened that you can't remember?" the male officer pressed gently.
"I don't know, really. The last thing I remember was my mom trying to ask me what was wrong," he said, his throat constricting as he fought not to cry.
"Okay… then what?" the female officer prodded, her voice gentler now.
"I woke up with my face wet and my hand on a glass that had fallen beside me," Akondo remembered, a quaver in his voice.
"Is that how you cut your hand?" the male officer asked, writing.
"Yes," said Akondo, looking down to the table.
"Most likely his mom was trying to get him up or something and, you know, the glass was there," said the female officer, nodding toward the other officer.
"Alright, go on," said the male officer, eyes still on Akondo.
"I heard someone talking from the room next to mine. I walked there and found my mom's body along with her phone. The call was with the 611 number," Akondo said, his face crumpling as he fought back tears.
"Hmm… understood," the male officer replied, standing up and closing the audio recorder tucked in his pocket.
The female officer made a quick call, handing her phone to her partner.
The male officer raised the phone to his ear, listening intently. "It seems like a normal cause of death. No investigation is needed," he said, his expression unreadable.
He turned to Akondo, his voice turning serious. "Do you want any investigation into your mother's death?"
Akondo met his gaze, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "I… I guess," he replied quietly.
.
.
.
.
.
Valloria (A Country)
The night was almost spent, the first light of dawn creeping over the horizon. Inside a huge palace, whose old stones told tales of centuries gone by, lay a large open ground around the estate that covered a square kilometer of manicured gardens—all under the watchful eyes of guards at the gate.
In one of the palace's lavish rooms, young man (18yr old) stood before a mirror, scrutinizing his reflection. His golden eyes glimmered with determination, his lean physique shirtless and defined, showcasing abs that glinted in the soft light filtering through the window.
His mid-length blonde hair cascaded over his shoulders, catching the morning glow like a halo.
Just as he was getting dressed in a fresh white shirt, ready to put on a royal robe, his quiet was broken by a voice.
A girl was lying in the bed, not older than him, with long brown hair falling over her shoulders and around her blue eyes, heavily accented with makeup, a huge contrast against her otherwise vulnerable state as she sat under a white blanket.
"Why did you wake up all of a sudden?" she said with confusion.
"I haven't told you yet, I guess… Well.. I'm leaving Valloria," he said, his voice firm but with a slight undertone of finality in it.
"What? What do you mean you're going to leave?" Her voice rose in incredulity, eyes widening.
"Not for good. I'll spend my last months of high school and university in Antherion," he clarified, trying to sound casual.
"Wait… what about me? That's a long time! Aren't you taking me with you?" she cried, her voice rising from shock into desperation.
"Hey, so? Who are you that I have to take you with me?" he retorted, a roguish grin spreading on his face.
"What? I am your girlfriend!" she said, confusion written over her face.
"And what makes you my girlfriend?" he responded, the grin growing even wider.
"It's… it's because I love you, you dumbass!" she retorted, the vulnerability in her voice belying the frustration and urgency.
In that instant, his golden eyes blazed with an otherworldly light that enabled him to see deeper into the recesses of her soul. It flickered red, a telltale sign of deceit.
"That is not so. You never loved me. Your priority was my money, not my heart. You wanted to be the queen of this land, not my queen," he said, his smile fading into a cold expression.
"What? That's not true! I… I love you, nothing else!" she protested, her voice trembling in the rage she could see bursting out of him.
"Please. If we are to talk of love, then I once loved you. But then came to know your real intentions. I feigned love for you, just like you have been feigning all this while." He paused, awaiting her reaction.
She did not wait for him to continue and was about to open her mouth when he flung her dress onto her face. "Wear it," he said, and his voice was mock-bright.
"Oh… this was a fun game, right?" she said, her bravado faltering.
"No, it's not a game. Remember every time we did what we did today? I always handed you money afterward, thinking it was a gift. But it was payment, plain and simple. You've acted like a prostitute for the last few months, ever since I discovered who you really are," he said, the words dripping with disdain.
A knock at the door broke their tense exchange.
"Come in," he called, with composure.
A maid came in, her face professional. "Prince, your flight is in an hour. The king and queen are asking to see you."
"Yeah, tell them to wait a few minutes," he said indifferently.
"Pardon me," the maid said, leaving quickly.
"You see that made? My mother was a maid, too, when my father was a prince. But she proved to be queen material, perfectly suited for the part. My father chose wisely, and I won't make the same mistake in planning to have you as my queen," he said, his voice devoid of warmth.
"You used me… you used me all this time," she accused, fury leaping in her eyes.
"No, just as your priority was my wealth, mine was your body. Not from the very beginning perhaps, but most certainly after I learned the truth about you," he hurled back.
"No… I'll expose you! The world shall know the true face of the prince!" she threatened, a desperation creeping into her voice now.
"It's 2024. The world is modern, and the king's family has survived all this time by showing that dictatorship can be beneficial. We've created one of the most peaceful countries. No one can label us as tyrants," he explained, his tone steady. "You think you can ruin that image with a single post?"
"I can destroy your reputation in an instant!" she shot back defiantly.
"Not a chance. I have more damaging evidence against you to proof of how many men you've been with since we started dating. And I have recordings where you openly said you wanted my money and wanted to be queen," he said, turning to the door, spinning around to face her once more.
"Don't worry; I've wired ten million dollars to your account. I don't play dirty or.. stupid unfair games," he added, his expression unyielding.
"Ren! Please, stop. I'm sorry!" she begged, her voice breaking as she called out to him.
"We're not lovers anymore, nor are we in a relationship. Address me properly as Prince Ren," he said coldly. "You have twenty minutes to leave the palace. There's a car waiting outside to take you home. If you don't leave, then I'll expose you first. But if you do leave, then you're free to go."
With that, he slammed the door and left her alone inside the room, with the weight of their broken relationship hanging in the air.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
March 3, 2024
2:38 PM
Akondo stood silently before his mother's grave. The partly snowcovered ground stretched out beneath his feet, the chill biting into his skin. The sun pierced through the wintry haze, casting long shadows and illuminating his face, which was flushed from the cold.
His loose clothing fluttered gently in the wind, which seemed to carry a lingering ache. His eyes, raw and dry from crying, lingered on the headstone.
He wasn't wearing a winter coat. Time around him felt accelerated, as if the world was spinning while he remained still…numb to all but the weight of grief pressing down upon his chest.
Seren, who'd been standing beside him, slipped her sweater off and dropped it over his shoulders. She laid a hand on his back sharing a silent offering of warmth. Without a word, she turned and began walking away, leaving him some time alone.
Akondo remained fixed in place, his eyes set on the writing on the grave. Now he did not even know where to direct his sorrow. He was still unable to swallow the fact that his mother's death had something to do with him, and neither was he able to find the courage to face what he should do now.
Deep down inside him, gnawing and heavy, guilt was devouring his being.
He sank to his knees, his breaths coming in quick ragged bursts as he started to cough violently. Seren, seeing this, rushed back to his side. Her concern was palpable, and she reached out, grasping his trembling shoulders, but Akondo did not fight her. Instead, he leaned into her touch, unable to hold back the tears he had been fighting.
"I don't know how it happened," he choked, his voice barely above a whisper. "But… I'm sorry, Mom… please forgive me."
A distant roar of an airplane rent the silence. Akondo lifted his head, his eyes scouring the grey clouds above as a memory stirred to the front of his mind.
He was a ten-year-old boy, standing on the roof of his house, looking up at the sky in wonder through his innocent eyes. When an airplane flew by, his excitement became overwhelming.
"Mum, look! The plane, the plane!" he shouted, jumping up and down.
His mom was up on the rooftop tending to a small flower garden she had nurtured through the years.
But in his excitement, Akondo's foot slipped. He fell backward toward the sharp antenna on the roof. In a heartbeat, his mother reached out to catch him, just in time. But the jagged metal edge of the antenna dug deep into her arm, drawing blood.
"Mom! Are you okay?" Akondo cried out, his eyes wide with fear.
"It's fine," she said hastily, dismissing the pain with a forced smile. "Are you okay?"
Her words stuck in Akondo's mind like a ghost, and he is still haunted by them.
He hardly felt the soft fluttering of wings before a white pigeon settled gently on the cross over his mother's grave, its feathers ruffled by the cold breeze.
.
.
.
That Afternoon
Children were playing football in a field, their laughter ringing out in the fresh winter air. The field was flanked by a narrow road, and with a mighty kick, one of the young boys sent the ball rolling toward the street. Seren, realizing this, quickly came to its rescue and caught the ball before it reached the asphalt surface.
She kicked the ball back to the children with a practiced kick and they cheered in thanks. She smiled faintly and pulled her jacket tighter against the cold.
She turned and saw that Akondo lay some distance away on the grass , his one hand behind his head and his eyes closed. He looked as if he sought to shut out the world. Seren walked across and sat down beside him, gazing up toward the sky. The sun was slowly going down, casting a warm, failing light across the horizon.
A plane soared overhead, its distant rumble drawing the attention of the children, who jumped and pointed excitedly at the sky, shouting at the plane as though it could hear them.
"Remember when we were kids like them?" Seren said softly, not taking her eyes off the sky. "It used to be that seeing a plane was the most exciting thing. But as we get older, it all starts to feel so… petty. We change, either because of the years gone by, or the things that have happened to us."
She settled down beside Akondo, a wistful smile in her voice. "We cope, and that's what makes us human, I guess."
Akondo opened his eyes and followed the vanishing silhouette of the plane until it was lost beyond the clouds.
Seren's face turned solemn, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "I may not truly be able to understand your pain, but I can feel it… a little. But you're a man; you have to be strong."
"I am strong," Akondo snapped back, his voice barely steady, betraying the cracks in his resolve.
"Sorry… I didn't mean it that way," Seren said hastily. "I just….forget I said that." She slid closer to him, the chill of the earth pressing against her side. "So, what's the plan now?"
"I don't know," Akondo muttered, staring blind at the darkening sky. "I'm not going to school for a while."
"Yeah… take your time," Seren said, voice soft. "If you need me, just call. I'll be here."
"Hmm," Akondo hummed in response.
Seren reached up and brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead. "You should shower and warm up. You can't stay out here like this."
"I'm fine," Akondo said flatly.
She sighed and sat up, trying to pull him up with her. "Come on, you'll catch a cold," she insisted.
In a half hearted attempt at resistance, Akondo grabbed her wrist and accidentally pulled her down. Seren stumbled, and in an instant, she found herself inches away from Akondo's face.
Their breaths mingled in the cold air, and for a moment, time did stretch between them. Seren's lips were poised near his, and she hesitated, torn between impulse and restraint. Abruptly, she pulled back, her face flushed.
"Alright," she stammered, trying to salvage her dignity. "Take your time. I'll be going."
"Okay," Akondo said, shutting his eyes once again. "Take care."
Seren hesitated for a moment before he turned and walked away.
More time passed and the field slowly emptied, and Akondo drifted off to sleep. Night fell, and no snow came that evening.
When Akondo woke up , the world was dark. He sat up and looked around; his only illumination was from the scattered streetlights. He drew out his phone and saw it was 9:15 PM.
"Nine already? When did I fall asleep?" he muttered, rising to his feet and dusting off his clothes.
He started off down the sidewalk, continuing in the direction of home.
He continued walking, but the gnawing hunger got the better of him, and he stopped by a food stall selling on the street.
It was a middle aged man selling hot dogs, and the smell of grilled meat filled the air.
Akondo approached, but before he could get a word out, a sharp pain stabbed through his chest.
"This pain… just like last night," he gasped, clutching his chest as his vision began to blur.
The ground seemed to spin beneath him, and he collapsed.
The hot dog vendor was the first to notice and rushed over, kneeling beside him. "Sir, are you okay?" he asked, alarmed.
Akondo's head was reeling, his thoughts were disjointed. "Why… Why does it feel like knives are stabbing my chest? Again?.it feels like last night " he thought in anguish. His body felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside.
A crowd started to form, whispering in concern. Akondo could hardly make out their faces only vague shapes through his dimming vision. The vendor grabbed at his shoulder, trying to haul him into a sitting position.
Suddenly, right before Akondo's eyes, the familiar digital display with a message flashing red:
"Swap body in 10 seconds to survive."
He could not quite process what it meant, only that the words sounded like his last hope. Another message appeared almost instantly: "Swap completed."
Time seemed to grind to a halt. Akondo's and the vendor's eyes both blazed with a bright red glow, and the world around them dissolved into silence. Akondo's eyelids closed of their own accord.
When he opened them again, something felt strange; he felt disconnected. He looked down and saw his own body lying on the sidewalk. His hands were rough and weathered, definitely not his. It hit him like a ton of bricks.
He was then in the hot dog man's body.
To be continued…