By Felipe Brenny
Artwork by Regan Chern
I jolt up, taking shallow breaths.
My hands clasp the leather chair's arms as I observe my surroundings. I’m still in that dingy little meeting room, still here after Mr June snapped a photo of me.
However, I can’t see any buildings outside.
The only thing out there is a white landscape of nothingness. It is a void so devoid of anything that you’d be mistaken for thinking there’s anything out there at all.
I remember what he told me, Mr June, locked inside my very mind, was it?
Leaving through the only door, I come into the exact same room I was just in. Wow, there’s an impossible door on the other side, which should lead to the outside, but instead just reveals another replica.
It doesn’t matter, especially seeing as I know I can’t get out.
At least Mr June won’t be finding the recording I have of him. If anything, he’d most likely be too distracted by the safe, and when he finds it filled with old picture books of me as a child, I bet his blood will be boiling…
Wait, what if he-
Before I can have another thought, the world around me melts away as my real eyes open. Everything’s blurry, and I can see the shape of a man looming over me. I’m so tired. So tired I can’t move my body. The ringing in my ears veils the words this man shouts at me. It’s only when he pushes me off the table I was lying on that my body jolts again.
‘Where did you hide the evidence, you scamp?’ Mr June says as he grabs me by my collar. Before I can say a word, he lifts me up, slamming me into the wall.
‘Where is it, Harry Monroe? Where did you hide that recording?’
‘And you thought the gun was the threat,’ I say, the words slurring out of my mouth.
‘What?’
‘I have nothing else to tell you, my part in this is done, you’re done.’
‘I don’t have time for your games! Where is it?’
I smile, letting him see my answer for himself. He throws me to the ground before radioing in to his accomplices.
‘Go back to the office, he has to have a hidden compartment somewhere there. We can’t let the police find out about that recording,’ Mr June says.
‘We can’t,’ a voice on the other side says. ‘The police have already surrounded it, and we also have confirmation from an insider that the police are going to this warehouse right now.’
Mr June’s face cannot hide the dam of superiority that breaks inside his mind.
His eyes are absent, his mouth is wide, even as his arms fall to his side, dropping the radio. Despite it all, he lets a wicked smile grow on his face as he reaches for an electric razor on a steel bench.
Before I can speak, he begins to haphazardly shave his head. I plant my hands on the ground and try to lift myself up, but it's hopeless.
Mr June confirms it himself, ‘Awakening from the inner machinations of your subconscious is sure to leave you dazed, Harry.’
‘What could you possibly be doing?’
‘One way or another, I will see my son. If that means I have to use a prototype of the machine, then so be it.’ He finishes shaving his head before placing a cap on his head.
‘You’re an idiot if you think that a machine can do that.’
‘It is the only way. It has been the only way since he died.’
‘Your son isn't dead! I read about it on the news!’
‘Then you know he’s dead.’
‘He’s in a coma, Mr June, he can still wake up!’
‘You’re wrong, but that’s alright, I’ll be seeing him in a moment.’
He grabs the same camera he used on me, and he turns to face me as I struggle to stare into his eyes, his empty eyes, before he looks at the flash that encompasses his face. He drops to the floor.
For the next thirty minutes, I could do nothing but stare at his unmoving body.
He was still breathing, but I was certain that there was nothing there. No… there’s been nothing there since the very start. Even asking people to name him Mr June, he’d already abandoned the man he was.
Of course, Alex is able to come to my rescue; after all, it was basically a guarantee that she’d find the recording.
As for Mr June, our friend Gerald Reed, a lawman, says he was transferred to a hospital while they see if there’s a way to get him out of his comatose state, but it doesn't seem likely.
Just a few days later, on the news, the heir to June Corp, Mason June Jr makes a miraculous recovery from his comatose state…
What irony. Just a few days, and his dreams would've been a reality.
‘What are you watching, Harry?’ Alex says. I switch off the TV as I turn to her.
‘Nothing much, heading off?’ I say.
‘Yeah. Hey, if you want, you can come with me. Jack’s made extra food for dinner so you can have some.’
‘Please, I remember the last time I had your husband’s cooking.’
‘What's that supposed to mean?’
‘It means I’m coming, like I’d miss out on his five-star cooking.’
‘That's more like it.’
Author Bio:
Hi, my name is Felipe Brenny (He/Him), and I am a third-year student at QUT studying creative writing. I have a passion for writing various kinds of fiction, and for my creative project unit, I am working on a dystopian novella, which I hope to complete after the unit. I enjoy playing a variety of video and board games, as well as reading books like “The King in Yellow” and “House of Leaves”.