[fic] recidivism // scrapped

[elydesia]

Title: recidivism (scrapped ver)
Chapter: One - Golden Fish
Author: kiwachou elydesia
Word count: 3268
Rating: Teen
Summery: Lucy goes to her Uncle's house in the countryside, where she enters the world of the past.
Note: Scrapped version. Tense edits remain unfinished (a lot of past/present tense switching), and there's even some narrative errors (first person/third person). It's really ugly, but I'm posting it for archiving reasons.

Upon the first ray of sunlight hitting the giant apartment complex up on our tall hill, I sit up from my bed. My eyes were feeling swollen and red. I rub them before I yawn. I blink a few times at my window, the sunlight streaming thorugh like sunrays under the water, each and every one both visible and beautiful.

Silence falls into the stuffy room from the sunrise as fast as its warmth. The grandfather clock in the living room made muffled tick-tock sounds. Sleep clung to me like a sloth to its branch. I feel like I'm still sleeping, the silence almost frightening.

Oh yeah, but my dream was about clocks, wasn't it..?

“Never mind that,” I mumble and tilt my head to look at the digital clock next to my bed: 05:37. I grumble at the time before standing up on my bed and stretching. I leap ontot he floor and dash intot he washroom.

After the hot shower I quickly towel off. Thinking about the sticky summer heat, I dress in a cool outfit. From outside my bedroom I could hear Dad shout, “Lucy! It's time to wake up! Cam's gonna pick you up soon!”

Did he just wake up? I laugh a ltitle. “A little late, isn't it, Dad? … What time is he picking me up?” I glance at the grandfather clock before heading back onto my room 06:03.

“At six-thirty.”

“When are you leaving?” I pull my trunk out from under the bed and open it. Combing through my room, I toss clothes either into the trunk or the hamper.

Although hesitent, he casually replies, “Right now. The main branch needs some programs to be double checked and the files are too large to send over. Sorry.” His apology sounds genuine enough, but I still think he enjoys spending time at the main branch too much.

Dad is a freelance computer programmer, that's what he's registered as with the government. In reality, he handles a wide range of fields in the world of technology. Over the past four years, he's been most frequently hired by an infamous business company specializing virtual reality programs. He tells me there's a lot of money in virtual reality, but he fails to mention how much work it actually is. He makes so much money, but he barely has time to spend it.

“Yeah, sure. See you next week, Dad,” I say and lock up my luggage. I swing open the bedroom door and stare at him for a moment before I push past him and head for the front door.

Daylight had steadily weighed itself down on me by the time Uncle drove up to the complex in his red convertible. He had the top down, a cigarette in his mouth, and large sunglasses over his eyes. I thought he looked really cool.

“Hey, sweets. Hot morning, isn't it?” He has on this huge grin, all of his clean white teeth sparkling like diamonds. His blonde hair was gelled back and his dark shades made his expression unclear. I tossed the trunk into the backseat and jumped into shotgun.

“Watch the leather.”

“You're late.” I buckle myself in and smile at Uncle, who lifts his shades and gives me a wink. I notice he has huge bags under his eyes and I can't help but feel like laughing a little.

“Yeah, I know, kid. Sorry, 'bout that.” He pulls away from the sidewalk and zooms down the street, practically flying down the steep hill and then rocketing it toward the family's country house.

“Are you alright? You have these huge bags under your eyes. It almost looks like you broke your nose or something.” I let out a laugh. “Did you get into a fight? Was it with Dad? Mom?”

He sighs and rubs his neck. “I haven't seen Sis for three years. Do you think I'd get into a fight with her? … She's too sentimental about that shit.”

“Oh, is that so...” I glance at his hands on the steering wheel and then look down at mine in my lap. They look so small compared to his. I shake my head and look up at the countryside. The wind blowing angrily through my straight black hair felt nice and refreshing.

“So when does school start back up?” he asks and spares a glance from the road at me. I feel like he's fishing around in the dark for words to say, questions to spit up to make smalltalk. It's only been two weeks since I was last over, but it seems like every time I visit we have to rebuild our uncle-niece relationship. Did that mean we don't get along? I think we get along fine.

“In two weeks,” I reply and lean back in my seat. “I can't believe I'll have to go to school in this disgusting heat.” Uncle began laughing, spilling some cigarette ashes on his jeans. He coughs and then spits outside the car.

I look over at him, a thin smile on my lips. “What's so funny? Aren't you supposed to feel sorry for me?”

“Ha ha ha! You're such a kid! I forget about that sometimes. I've just been reminded of it.” I frown. I turned seventeen last month, how can he still call me a kid? Just because he's thirty-one doesn't mean he can treat me however he pleases.

“I'm not a kid anymore, Uncle Cameron. I can white essays, count to infinity, recall what all my history classes taught me about history, and I've had a boyfriend.” I'm actually pretty proud of myself. I know I can do a lot more, which I consider to be a pretty good damn stepping stone to becoming a woman, but, really, I have no idea what makes a woman. To date, I've never met a person who could be called a woman, same with men: I've yet to meet an actual man. What makes someone grown up? When do we actually grow up?

“Ha ha! So you think. There are a lot of things that make people act and seem like adults, Lucy, but at heart we're all children. I believe someone grows up when they truly decide to, but until they take all the responsabilities which come along with that title they're not adults.” I look out the passenger side, where the window would have been if the top were up, and gaze let my eyes flutter over the passing scenery.

While my father and I live in a fancy apartment in a city full of highrises, my uncle lives alone in the family's old country house. Whenever Dad has to leave the city for work I get dumped with Mom's younger brother until he comes back; however long that takes.

Mom divorced Dad five years ago and then, three years ago, left the country to persue her passion for cooking. She is now a travelling chef and works all over the world in the most popular restaraunts. Occassionally she sends me letters with recipies to try, but I don't think I'm very good at cooking.

I look back at Uncle. “You didn't answer my question. Your eye, Uncle.”

Once again, he laughs. “Yes! I'm fine! Actually, I feel great. I worked until late last night on my latest invention. Well, I can't say it's mine. Our ancestor designed the orignal blueprints. A shame such an amazing invention was tucked away like that! I think he made one, too.”

“What? What is it?”

“A time machine!”

“What?” Last time he talked about a time machine, he caused an explosion in the science bureau headquarters. I close my eyes and shake my head. “No, no. Not again, please.”

“Don't be so quick, girly!” He was haisty with his denial. “I believe that gran'pa Alexander, who was also a physisist and botanist, already built it in the past. I think it worked, everything checks out in my head. I plan on testing it tonight.”

When exactly did he go crazy? “Yeah, your common sense checks out of Hotel Brain. If something goes wrong, I don't want our historic house to be burnt down. How are you so sure this works? Something like that is kind of impossible.”

“There's no such thing as impossible, sweetums,” Uncle cheered and sped the car faster.

After dinner was eaten and its dishes cleaned, Uncle and I crept down into the basement he uses as his laboratory.

The old wooden stairs squeaked like mice. I went down first and when my eyes met with the old-looking machine I fell in love with it instantly. It looked like a refurbished antique wardrobe with old 1920s wallpaper patterns glued onto it, as if Uncle wanted to make it look a little more old looking.

“It looks amazing, Uncle!” I shout and jump down the final two steps. “How is it powered? Electricity?”

Uncle explained to me as he followed my advancement to the machine. “Originally by an oil-powered electricity generator, but I modified it to be powered by my specially modified electricial outlets. It uses two plugs. See here?” He walks behind the machine and pulls up the power chords, already tangled up in other wires and chords.

“Already tangled, I see.”

“Sorry for not caring about messes,” he said sarcastically and joined me to stand in front of the machine.

“So, I know this is a time machine, but what exactly does it do? Teleports us to any time we want to go to?”

“Excellent question,” he replies and starts typing into a keyboard on the side with keys looking like they once belonged to a typewriter. “This is, according to our gran'pa Alexander, the Dionysus Time and Space Traveler. From his notes and my guesses, it takes you not only to a different time, but to a different parallel universe by divvying up your atoms and broadcasting it to another machine. It works similarily to a radio or television.”

“It does space travel, too?” I looked up at him with a tilted head.

“It's supposed to, but I never fully implimented that capability. I thought it was too risky, but Alexander sure didn't. If we travel to his machine in the past, it should have that capability fully installed.”

I take a step back and tug on Uncle's arm. “Doesn't that mean this isn't really complete? It's still too dangerous to try!”

Suddenly a new gleam appears in Uncle's eyes. His eyes stray away from the machine and onto me. “Lucy, do you want a new life?”

A new life?

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to start a new life on the other side of this machine?”

A new life on the other side. A new life in the past is what he's referring to, right? A place where I don't exist. A time where no one knows about my parents, or Uncle's explosion. He must want a new life as bad as me. No, he wants one more than me. Ever since the science bureau explosion, critics and noteworthy people in the world of scientific study have made fun of him. No one has forgotten, even years later.

With one leap,

All my history could be forgotten with just a simple – or, rather complicated – method of travel, of escape. Why couldn't running from one's problems always be this easy? But running from problems isn't exactly the best way to deal with them. But, to imagine it: a life without the hitch of a past. Out of everyone I would meet, no one would have to know about my parents, my filtered past of recidivism.

Slowly, I nod my head. This seemed to be very sign Uncle was looking forward to. At once he presses 'enter' on the keyboard, grabs my hand, and then opens the door. “We're goin' in!” he shouts as he first pushes me into the machine and then climbs in himself, closing the door behind him.

A million different sounds blew past my ears. A billion different images flew past my eyes, soaking in what seemed to be the culture and lifestyle Uncle and I were travelling to. Everything was confusing, nothing made sense. What was I seeing exactly? What is this? Nothing made sense!

And then all of a sudden the world stopped and I was in the machine again. Everything was quiet, my head felt like rolling off my head and onto my feet. I didn't bother to ask whether it worked or not: I know it did. With heavy, sore feet I drag myself to the machine's only door and push it open. I glance behind me to see Uncle Cameron unconscious and in a heap on the floor, but I don't really care, I just want out. I turn my eyes to outside the strange machine and see a brown haired young man on the floor, his eyes wide and freightened. Who is he? Could he be Alexander?

“I'm... Lucy...” was all I had the energy to say and I take a step forward only to fall to the ground, exhausted.

I can barely keep myself awake to see what was around me, so with the command of, “Sleep,” I gladly did so.

Painfully I wake up to an unfamiliar bedroom, in unfamiliar clothes, and in an unfamiliar, not to mention uncomfortable, bed. My body feels stiff and my head throbs like when I tripped and smacked my head into the sidewalk two years ago. “Where am I?” I mumbled and get out of bed. It takes a few seconds to keep my balance.

All five windows have drapes hung on them. I shuffle slowly to one of the windows, pulling aside the drape everso slightly, revealing an amazing sight:

From the bedroom window I have a clear cliffside view of a city and its port and then most of the infinate sea. Cars below in the city drove fast and in many; they made the streets look as if they were flooded with streams of golden water that refused to leak into the blue and dirty sea, its own golden ripples flooding the city in bliss and beauty. Every now and then a set of red lights appears like little red fish dipping their heads above the golden waves as if inspecting the buildings above them.

During my amazement and intense gazing there was a gentle knock at the bedroom door. I hear a male say, “Miss Lucy, are you awake yet?”

Reluctantly I peel myself away from the golden view and answer the door, saying, “Yes, yes.” On the other side is a pretty blonde youth with a tray of food in his hands. “Ah, hello,” I greet. He wore a crisp dress shirt, dark brown slacks, a vest and tie, and suspenders. What year was it? Where am I, again? Although the fashion foreign to me it suited his features and made him look somewhat handsome.

“Good evening,” he says and makes his way in. He sets the tray on the desk beside the door and looks down at me with curious eyes. “You,” he says and I felt my body go stiff. I suddenly remember how exactly I got here: thorugh a machine in someone's basement. Where's Uncle Cameron?

“Yes?” I ask quietly, my voice half stuck in my throat like some large gumball. The young man sighs and droops his shoulders.

“I'm just glad you're in good condition. When Nicholas came and got me he was quite scared. It was very hard to calm him down, and when I went down there myself... well, it was hard to calm myself, too.” The youth's eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed, his arms crossed in a thinking position.

“Excuse me, but where is my uncle? Uh, the other man?”

“Oh, yes. He's fully awake now. He's the one who helped to change your clothes. I was going to do it but he insisted, claiming he was family. Is this true?” I nod my head and thank Uncle for changing me instead of this handsome stranger.

“Um,” I start, feeling a little awkward. I suddenly want us to sit down but he showed no signs of wanting to sit. “My name's Lucy. What's yours?” The young man raises his hand to the back of his neck and scratches it before looking down at the cooling food.

“My name's Edgar Rose. I work at Restaurant Dionysus with my guardian Nicholas Burrows.” He looks nervous. What could possiblly make him nervous? I can take a shot in the dark and say it's the early 1900s, and from that I should know how strong men were to women. What, does he have no backbone?

“I see.” I stand in the middle of the small room, my eyes oogling all over the room, especially Edgar.

He suddenly turns around and says, “You should get some rest. Mister Cameron is exhausted but he's still working on the machine you two came out of. You should eat this and then go back to sleep. I'll wake you up in the morning. It'll be Sunday so the cafe's closed. We can all sit down and have a talk.” When he's done he opens the door and leaves in a rush.

Feeling like I've just been rejected, I slowly sit down at the desk and eat the food. It's vegetable and beef stew with two slices of warm toasted bread.

In the morning the early morning light pierces through the drapes, the image of such somewhat reminding me of yesterday's early morning scene. I wish all my mornings were as easy. I sit up and look at the room, noticing my suitcase stashed at the foot of the bed. When did that get there?

There's a knock at the door. It's not as gentle as last night so it's safe to assume it' snot Edgar. I climb out of bed and meander to the door. Before I open it I ask, “Who is it?”

“It's Uncle Cameron, is this Sleepy-Head Lucy speaking?”

“Uncle Cameron!” I fling open the door and jump on him, both of us crashing to the hardwood floor. “It works! It works, Uncle! Wherever we are, we're here! We're somewhere! Where are we?”

He explodes in one of his notorious laughs and gets up, picking me up, too. “We're in Chroma City, 1925.” I raise my eyebrows.

“Still in Chroma?” I ask. We didn't travel too far, did we?

But Uncle shook his head. “No, no. We don't know for sure, yet. Treat this world with weariness. Let Nicholas and Edgar guide you.”

“Me? Why me? Won't you be going out, too?” I lean over and look at the two men behind him. There's Edgar, the blonde one, so the other must be Nicholas. I look back up at Uncle. “What am I supposed to do?” Uncle didn't say anything, instead he pulls me over to the sofas and pushes be down into the single reading chair.

“Now that you're here,” Nicholas starts, “Edgar can go to college on a regular basis. While he's gone, you fill in for him as the waiter – in this case, waitress. When he comes home he will help you until closing. Your uncle will work in the basement...” He sounds strange, as if he were being forced to repeat lines he's previously memorized.

I sigh and nod my head. Uncle will work further on the machine? Why? If he messes up not only will this beautiful restaurant on a cliff be destroyed, so will our way back home.