The Lie He wROTe

Tristan woke up, his wrists were killing him. He tried to lift them, they refused. They were clung to something. He looked down and saw them strapped at the rests of a chair as well as his legs. Where was he? How did he get here? He tilted to the left and saw a tinted window showing his reflection. His beard was bushy and most probably unwashed for days. His brown leather jacket also fitted the same role. It was tattered only holding on with the stitches made that were almost everywhere. All this he saw from the one bright light hanging at the ceiling. Wherever he was, it wasn't anywhere pretty.

The door opened and two people, male and female, wearing military uniform entered. The female looked like a colonel and the man a rank behind her. There was a chair on the other side of the long table, the woman took her seat and stared at Tristan intently. He saw it from the glare, there was something he had done. But what was it and why couldn't he remember.

"Tristan Blake," the woman called alarming him. "When is today?"

Today? That was the first thing she started with, not even a hello? Was this some kind of test? If it was, knowing today would be easy enough.

"Um... okay," he said, his voice was raspy. He tried clearing it. "Today is..."

Wait, when was today? How could he not know the date. He always checked his calendar... did he have one?

The woman squinted her eyes. "Okay, what did you have for breakfast?"

Breakfast! That he knew, no worries.

"I had..."

No clue, what did he actually have?

The woman sighed. "Do you have a family?"

These questions, they were too much. "What's up with all of these questions, why am I being interrogated?"

"How dare you talk back!" the man barked. The woman placed her palm in front of him, he calmed down.

"I understand you must be very confused," she said. "But you must answer them. Do you have a family?"

"I..." he thought around it. "I...I don't know. I... can't remember anything."

The woman stood and took strides towards him. She dug through her pocket and removed her phone. Sliding it to him, there was a picture of a journal laced with a white cover.

"Last question," she said, finally reaching him. "Do you know what this is?"

He stared the screen for some time, this journal... Yes! This one he definitely knew!

"That's my journal," he said turning to her. "It's for my latest novel."

The woman looked at him and took the phone from the table. Her worst fears were confirmed.

"My name is Gwendolyn. I'm a colonel," she pointed the man. "That is my lieutenant, Jerry. Tristan, you might not remember but this book, it's led to a massive calamity."

Calamity? How was that possible?

The looks she saw confirmed he wanted to ask. "You see Tristan, you are a renowned author who specializes in Dystopian novels. Your fanbase is huge, everyone loves your books. But then suddenly you went silent and you began drafting your latest idea."

"Okay," he uttered. "How is it related to the calamity."

"The events that were happening in the book, they were happening in real life."

He trembled, what did she say?

"What do you mean?"

"Do you mind explaining the idea."

He kept mum, if he couldn't remember what he had for breakfast or what day it was, would he really remember what the draft was all about. There was some tingling feeling around his head, it increased with each second. The draft, it was clear to him! He could remember all about it. He could do it.

"A meteorite crash lands the planet," he said. "The immense pressure within releases a deadly gas that spreads all over. It kills everything in its path, living organisms, the air, the water, the planet is dying. No solution is found to curb it. Chapter by chapter, I was showing how different people lived their lives around it. They were to never survive at the end of the day."

"And what chapter are you on?"

"I guess... forty five."

"How long?"

"Fifty chapters."

They sighed. Jerry was brimming with anger. Gwen gave him a look that restrained him.

"Tristan, everything you just explained, it's been happening in real life. Every time you conclude a chapter, a fraction of people are killed. And if you have indeed reached forty five, then you have done this in forty five cycles. The population of the earth has dwindled ever since."

"What?" he said, shaking. "I... I've... killed people."

"We called this calamity, the rotting. That's because the gas has been decaying everything away."

He remained silent, gazing down, contemplating. It didn't add up. Something around it was amiss.

"How come... I can't remember anything?"

The colonel breathed deeply, moving to his right side. "You were involved in an accident. A dangerous one that robbed you the chance of being a father. While you were in the hospital and they made tests on you, they said you would lose memories temporarily as the days past. After your release, they made observations without your consent, their was a daily pattern in your routine in which not one day would pass until you write something."

She heard him sniffle, she looked back and saw him immersed in misery. His eyes were bulging and the tears did not cease falling.

"I was... gonna be a dad?"

Gwen didn't answer. She allowed him the time, they didn't have its luxury but it was the only reasonable option. To not even recall a family, that was harsh.

He looked up, eyes red. "What did... they discover about me. In that routine."

She carried on with her movements. "Well, they saw that the events of whatever happened the previous day was all gone. When neighbors said hello to you, you would wonder. Appointments that were scheduled early on, you would forget about them. But never would you forget to write. And that was where they made the conclusion that you were responsible for all this."

He sniffled his last. "Is there nothing I can do to fix it?'

Gwen reached the other side of the table and shot glances at Jerry, they already planned options but whatever would come across, would he accept them? They knew that this was the life of one man equated to the lives of millions with so many gone already.

Gwen was hesitant, she imagined herself in his shoes, she didn't have the guts to say anything.

Jerry on the other hand, he was ready. He took his turn and moved closer to him.

"Here's the deal," he spoke. "There are two options. Only two and you must comply."

Gwen wanted him to take it slow but she knew he wouldn't listen. Hopefully Tristan would be aboard with them.

"Okay, tell me," Tristan said.

"One, knowing what you can do, we cannot guarantee your freedom, that's why you will remain in military confinement until the world is healed in some sort of way. The other option, if you really desire that freedom, you will hand us your manuscript and that journal but you will be under supervision at all times to ensure you never write again. Blue pill or Red pill?"

Freedom versus passion, what would he do? He valued both. But this was for the sake of humanity though how could he even predict that any of this would happen. It wasn't fair, there had to be some other option that would satisfy both the needs. Anything.

"Clock's ticking," Jerry reminded him.

"I..."

A sudden pulse ran through his mind. The chapters, one by one, they were racing through his brain. From the crash to the panic to the aftermath, everything was coming in line. He could see a clear glow.

"When the sun blocks the moon at night

And the man docks at noon for light

With cries blare from birds in flight

Do lives dare to chant with might"

Jerry looked at him in confusion. "What the hell are you saying?"

Tristan turned to him and looked directly at the pool of his eyes, he found the solution.

"You... you have to let me out," he said. "I... I know what must be done."

Gwen walked hurriedly to him and touched his shoulders making eye contact.

"What is it? We can do it for you?"

"No, no you don't understand I have to do this alone. I have to finish the book."

"That's not going to happen," Jerry bickered.

"No please, with it in my mind I have to write it," he said, fighting with the restraints on him. " I have to finish the book, It has to be done."

"Tristan, calm down. We can help you."

"No...No! I HAVE TO FINISH THE BOOK!"

The straps on his legs gave in and he stood up, as embarrassing as it was. Gwen knew she stood no chance against him in the state he was, she needed help. The door yanked open and three soldiers swarmed in.

"Keep him calm," Gwen said.

They approached him, Tristan seeing them like monsters. This was not going to heal the planet! Why would no one listen?

"Sir," one of them told him. "Just calm down."

"Don't come near me. None of you want to listen. I have to write the book."

"Hey, listen to us, it will be all fine," another said.

"NO! NO! I HAVE TO-"

He felt an itch in his chest, it grew to be much painful. The soldiers stopped coming closer and the stares they gave him, they were a warning. He felt something coming out, it made the chest feel wet. He checked and saw the shirt tucked within the jacket was drenched in crimson red. Blood? But how? He looked up, jerry held a pistol, a silencer and aimed straight to his chest.

"Jerry, you fool!" Gwen shouted and moved towards him snatching the gun.

Tristan staggered, his head was getting heavy. One last tear formed in his eye and fell. He had the chance, he could do it. Time slowed down, he felt he was not under control but the world, it was going upside down. The soldiers were rushing to take him under their arms while Gwen gazed horrified. Was this the end? THUD!

One of them touched the base of his neck. He turned her. "I'm sorry Colonel. We lost him."

Gwen exhaled and crossed her arms, she was furious. She wanted to hit Jerry but felt compelled not to. How did he get in with a weapon, they left them at the table outside.

"I've done this world a favor," he said, his voice was so cold and unforgiving.

This was the line, he went ahead and cut it. She glanced at him, for the sake of respect and the condition of the world, she let it be.

"A favor that no one asked for," she said. "Leave Jerry, you're work here is done."

He wanted to protest but he couldn't. He stood alert and saluted her then left.

"Two of you notify the morgue," she said, they left as instructed.

She stood beside the one left, his hands shuddered. as he touched the man's chest. She patted him.

***

A white linen cloth was placed over his body. They removed the straps at his wrist and carried him on a stretcher. Gwen gazed as they took the body out and left. All that, for nothing.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, Jerry made a valid point, he was gone so no more deaths, right? But then, he had a plan. One he was so enthusiastic about and was ready to correct what he did. Tristan never wanted this, nobody did and if his plan was meant to work, would it play out and the earth saved.

Tristan Blake, this lie you had written, what truth did you discover that would change the fate of all things