Prelude to Shattered Memories

You know, there’s this one quote that’s kind of always been stuck in my head. It’s a pretty famous quote. You know it, it’s from one of the physicists who worked on the Manhattan project. I think the guys name was… What was it… Robert Oppenheimer. The quote goes something like this.
“… We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried. Most were silent. I… Remembered the line from the Hinduscripture, the Baghavad gita… Visnu is trying to tell the Prince to do his duty. To convince him, he takes on his many-armed form. And he says ‘Now I am become Death, destroyer of worlds.'”

I think Oppenheimer nailed it. The blinding light had faded, leaving a growing cloud of dust. It was like a demon, a malicious being, consuming the world. A growing mushroom shaped plume of superheated dust. I knew that the warhead was considered low yield, but looking at it… You would’ve never guessed…

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start from the beginning… Well, as far back to the beginning as I can go, in my short, meaningless lifetime. I know I’m missing some important details, because sitting in this cell, I can tell I don’t know some seriously significant things. The ripples of my actions in the pond of reality bounced on uncharted shores, ricocheting, amplifying and cancelling unpredictably. But maybe I can try and use this introspection to take a look and see if I can fill in the gaps…

So rewind… A few years… What was it… Eight years ago? Hard to believe. It seems like yesterday. My name is Oscar Hill. Bit of a generic name for a generic guy. I lived with my (awesome) parents till I was twenty. I was studying a bachelor of information technology for two years. My parents were pressuring me to move out. Don’t get me wrong, my parents are great and very loving, but their point revolved around giving me a reason to be independent. Somehow parents, parents everywhere, seem to be under the impression that moving out automatically makes their children responsible. This may be true for most kids, but I was hardly a kid and I like to think I made a very responsible young adult. I wasn’t a basement dweller, I was a pretty out and about person. I worked late nights in technology support, I went to gym regularly, I had positive influences in the form of a good group of somewhat rowdy friends and, most of all, my life was on track. Nonetheless, the pressure to move out was applied and, eventually, I caved to their wishes.

Moving out wasn’t hard. My decision coincided with the end of semester and a lot of student houses were looking for tenants to share the rent with. I found a nice place with good proximity to both work and uni, so I was pretty much set. What I didn’t count on was the figurative bombshell that was about to enter my life. Aaaand, once again, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Have I mentioned I hate the cold? Well, I fucking hate the cold. Where I live, it starts getting very cold around November. Towards the end (coincidentally, close to my birthday) the snow is almost always knee deep. Walking home, two absolutely packed bags of groceries in my hands, it has ALWAYS been a struggle to not slide on the salt strewn footpath. Slippery is an understatement. I was trotting along, minding my own business, enjoying the physical exercise. Breathing in the cold is hard, even for me and my badass cardiovascular health (yep, I’m a cocky motherfucker. Deal with it). I reached the gate to my building and debated whether to drop my bags in the dirty snow or to try and jump the gate. And that’s when I heard her.
“Need some help with that?”
I will never forget the first time I heard that voice. Sweet, but not sugary. An undertone of elegance; the consonants well enunciated. I could hear her smile. I turned around. Bundled up in a very comfortable looking furry coat was a rosy cheeked young lady. She looked.. Well, she looked my age. She had accented cheekbones, a softly tanned complexion. A few tiny freckles on her nose, well accented with deep Auburn hair. Her eyes were the. Palest blue… They reminded me of frozen ice (and if she ever reads this, she knows exactly who she is). I couldn’t tell much about her physique under the coat, but from what I could see.. Well, instant crush. Naturally, all this was parsed in a few milliseconds, but the delay in my reply was noticeable.
“Ah, no, I’m good. Thanks.”
Okay. I know. You’re judging me. I judged me. It sounds awkward in text, trust me, it was at least four times more awkward in person.
“Okie doke.”
She pushed past me, reaching for the gate. After a little fiddling, with me standing their awkwardly, she got the gate open and walked in.

Well, fuck. This chick was, apparently, living with me. Normally, that wouldn’t bother me. I’m not socially inept, but if you’re a young guy, and a pretty girl doesn’t make you nervous and a little jittery, you should probably get your blood pressure checked. So I braced myself for a very awkward first week and pushed in behind her.

Okay, really quickly, I want to go over the layout of the house. There was basically an exterior staircase connecting the three floors. Each floor had its own living area and two separate rooms plus study. I was on the second floor with pretty girl with Auburn hair, the floor above me was an Asian couple with a young child and the floor below was two kinda nerdy dudes and their blonde (bachelor of arts, yes, let’s be judgemental) bimbo of a room mate. I knew the names of the guys, Greg and Timothy, because they were the ones who posted the ad for the place.

Pretty girl with gorgeous eyes was a few steps ahead of me and I couldn’t help but be slightly mesmerised by the swaying of her hips as she traversed the stairs. She reached our floor and took out her keys, which is when she noticed me. I’m somewhat attentive, so I filed ‘has good peripheral vision’ as part of her traits.
“Oh, you’re still here? You’re either my new room-mate or some crazy guy who’s following me.”
The smile was still in her voice.
“How about a bit of both?” I replied.
That drew a small laugh out of her.
“Oh good, roommate and stalker. Greaaaat. So, what do I call you, roomie-stalker?”
Now, I want to say I said something suave and sophisticated. Bond. James Bond. Sadly, reality is a thing, so I opted for, you know, the normal thing to say.
“Hill. Oscar Hill.”
Have I mentioned my personality is retarded? Well, it is. Deal with it. Fortunately, it drew another singsong laugh from her.
“Well, Mr. Hill, I’m Cassie. Cassie Laine.”

Kay, I’m going to stop here for the next few hours. Don’t worry, I’ll be back really, really soon. I just want to know what you guys think of the pace, the style, the constant transition from past to present tense. The foreboding undertone. All that good shit (which may or may not be actually good).

Also, the girl’s name won’t be Cassie Laine in the actual first chapter. I just put it in there as an Easter egg. Cassie’s a pornstar (who you can view on xnxx) and she looks freakishly similar to the person the character is based on.

Well, feedback plx. The chapter will be up by tomorrow.

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