Perfect Strangers (Language, Violence and Big-Kid Stuff)

[[Desolate Divine]]

Chapter 7
“Eww.” I muttered to myself as I looked at a small Hyundai hatchback on Car Sales. I scrolled past it, looking to the next few cars.

It was mid-afternoon, and so far I had spent most of my morning doing this. Looking through cars and trying to find something decent. Granted I knew nothing about cars, so I was basing my judgements on looks alone.

The day before, I finally got access to my bank accounts, seeing as I couldn’t remember my details from before the crash. Whilst my card had Paypass, that was only good for $100 or less. Good for the odd trip for groceries, however made any important purchases or cash out impossible. Mum had been covering most of my expenses since the crash, seeing as my money was locked away in the depths of my mind, but I didn’t want to be depending on her for too long. It felt good to have access to my money again. Like my life was starting to return to normal.

During the time when I couldn’t access my account, I got paid out for insurance on my crashed car, and I was starting to get sick of relying on lifts and busses. It had been about four days since I first caught the bus by myself, and since then I had caught it just about every day, going to the shopping centre, the bank, and even university to try and figure out how to proceed with my course. They ended up recommending that I defer for a year until I am in a more stable position before continuing my course.

As I scrolled through pages and pages of cars however, was distracted. Even though the last few days had restored my sense of independence, to a degree, this was a whole other level. I knew I should get someone to help me, but I was forcing myself to not think about it, because, truth is, the only person I can picture helping me through all this is Mason.

I hate it because I have only know him for about two weeks, and I am becoming way too attached. The other day, when we pretended to be a couple to p*** Aaron off, I liked that way too much. Deep down, though I wouldn’t admit it, I kind of wished that it was real.

I mean, I barely know the guy, outside of what he has told me. We have a history that I know nothing of. And I can’t help but think that at some point or another before the crash, I would have felt this way about him if I feel it now.

Maybe he wasn’t interested. Or maybe I never had the nerve to talk about it. Or maybe I just suppressed it all. Or maybe I never saw him this way, and I only am now because of how much I have relied on him.

I continued scrolling through pages of cars, skimming through information that I didn’t even understand most of the time.

“Stuff it.” I muttered as I grabbed my phone, and opened my contacts. I scrolled down to Mason’s name, and pressed call.

The phone rang for a few seconds, before I heard his voice.

“Hey, how’s things?”

“Alright.” I replied, “If you have a bit of free time, I need some help. I’ll shout you dinner if you come around for the afternoon and give me a hand.”

“Sounds vague.” Mason said, “Do I need to bring anything?”

I thought about it for a second. If we were looking at cars, two computers were probably better than one.

“Just bring your laptop.” I replied, “I’m looking at cars, and I have no idea what I am looking for.”

“You called the right guy.” Mason laughed, “I’ll just finish cleaning up, and come around as soon as I’m done.”

“Thanks.”

Truth is, I could have easily asked Tom to help me, or just gone for the same car I had before the crash, and not worried about it. But from what I have seen, Mason wants to help me, and as for a different car, well I pretty much have a new life now. I feel like there is no point me trying to relive my old life, ‘cause it’s gone. Maybe forever.

About forty minutes later, I heard a knock on the door.

Mason was dressed in his usual attire (from what I had seen), of a pair of jeans, a casual button up shirt, with a dark hoodie and a jacket over the top. At his side was a messenger bag with what I presumed was his laptop.

“So what’s with the sudden fascination with cars?” Mason asked, as he took a seat on the couch. I made my way over and sat next to him.

“Well my old car is wrecked from the accident, and I just got access to my bank account, which now has the insurance payout in it.” I replied, “That and the gimmick of the bus is getting old quickly.”

“Fair enough.” Mason said, as he opened his laptop, “I’ve done some thinking, based on your history of cars, and have some ideas. Granted, I don’t know what your budget is. I just guessed based on what your old car was probably worth.”


He loaded Car Sales, and quickly opened up a listing for a Hyundai i30.

“Apparently these things are pretty reliable.” Mason said, putting the laptop in front of me, “And it is similar to your last car. Mid sized hatchback.”

“Maybe.” I said, “Either way, I’d want to take it for a test drive to be sure.”

“About that…” Mason said cautiously, “I’m not meaning to be rude or anything, but with your whole memory thing-”

“Do I still remember how to drive?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know to be honest.” I explained, “Some stuff I have absolutely no idea how to do, like catching the bus. Then there is some that I have to do once or twice, and eventually I pick it up pretty quickly, I assume as well as I used to, like doing my washing. Stuff I’ve done a million times before that I just needed to be refreshed on. Then some stuff, I still do without even realizing it. Stuff like showering, or brushing my teeth. I didn’t need to be taught how to do that again.”

“It could be any of these. I could get into a car and be able to drive it no problems. I might need a few practise laps then I’ll be good.” I said, “Or I may need to start again from scratch.”

Mason was silent for a second.

“Well, before you test drive something for sale, maybe you should drive something else first to find out.” Mason said, sounding as if he was hinting at something.

“What are you suggesting? I borrow a car?” I asked. Before I even finished the sentence, he had pulled his keys out of his pocket.

“No way! You love that car, and it is too nice to risk!” I replied, “You can’t let me take it onto the roads!”

“Calm down.” Mason said, “We will take it to an empty car park and see how you go. If it’s just like riding a bike, I’ll let you take it for a spin down some roads. And besides, it only got as nice as it did after I got all the damage I did to it fixed.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

Mason didn’t respond, however put his laptop aside and made his way to the door.

“Come on. While we still have daylight.”

Half an hour later we were on one of the multilevel car parks at Greensborough Plaza. The plaza itself had a massive carpark, however one of its department stores had one as well, which was nearly always empty according to Mason. And this is where I’d find out if I knew how to drive.

I sat in the driver’s seat, anxious about damaging Mason’s car, and even more anxious at how calm he was.

“Run me through that one more time.” I asked, as I hadn’t heard everything he said over my own thoughts.

“The engine spins, and connects to the gearbox, and from there, the wheels. If there isn’t enough movement in the engine to move the whole car, the engine stops and the car stalls.” Mason explained, “The clutch, that pedal on your left, disconnects the engine from the gearbox, and lets it spin freely.”

I looked at him still confused.

“Basically, if you press the clutch, the car won’t move when you rev, but you can’t stall it either. You wanna use the clutch when you take off, slow down or change gears.” Mason explained, “When in doubt, dump the clutch. But you’ve done this a million times before. You were the only girl in our class who learnt manual.”

“That’s reassuring… I think.” I said, “Okay, so I’m in neutral. Hold in the clutch?”

“Yep, then put it into first.” Mason replied, pointing at the gear shifter on my left. I moved it to the left and pressed it up. The motion felt strangely natural, even though I had no memory of ever doing it before.

“Now give the car some revs, then let off the clutch. And once the clutch is up, give it a little more.” Mason explained, “When it starts making revving high, push down the clutch, release the accelerator, then shift and take off again.”

“One step at a time…” I replied.

I pressed lightly on the accelerator, and saw the red needle on the tachometer rise a little.

“Now let off the clutch and as you do, give it some more.”

I let of the clutch, and pressed the accelerator down a little further. The rear wheels of the car span from the sloppy launch, but I had done it.

“Now shift!” Mason said. I pressed down on the clutch, and released the accelerator, pulling down the gear shift into second. Whilst I was still nervous driving his car, I could feel a sense of familiarity in it.

“And again!”

We drove forward for a few more seconds, until we started to run out of carpark.

“Now slow down, and down-” Mason said, as I pressed down the clutch, and hit the brakes. I turned right, and shifted the car into second, taking off again. Pretty soon I had made a lap of the carpark.

“Just like riding a bike-” Mason said before a look of horror hit his face.

“STOP!”

I quickly slammed down the clutch and hit the brakes.

“What?” I asked. Mason smiled.

“I wanted to see if you could stop the car in the heat of the moment.” Mason explained, “If you hit the clutch first, then I’d know that everything is still in there, it's just a matter of getting to the habit of doing it again.”

“A**hole!” I shouted, “You scared the s*** out of me!”

Mason laughed, as I pretty quickly calmed down and actually admired his ability to figure this stuff out.

“You ready to take it on the road?” Mason asked.

“Do you trust me to take it on the road?” I replied.

“What does a green light mean?” Mason asked in response, “And who has right of way at a roundabout?”

“Green light means go, obviously, and as for the roundabout, whoever is there first, but if people are there at the same time, give way to the person on your right.”

“Told you.” Mason said, “It’s all in there. Come on. Take me out of here, and turn right, then left at the lights. I got some roads I want to take you on to see how you go before I let you test drive any cars.”

We left the carpark and I followed Mason’s directions, eventually finding ourselves on a windy 70 kilometre per hour road. As we drove past a small road that lead off into the bush, Mason spoke up.

“Blue Lake is down there.”

“When I get my own car, the first thing I'm doing is googling all these places you mention and going there.” I said, “Put all the pieces together.”

We continued on the windy road until a little further up, where it became 80. After a few minutes on this road, we got stuck at a red light with an idiot next to us in a red car, revving his engine. I could feel myself getting annoyed just looking at the car.

“After this intersection the speed limit becomes 100, and the road becomes pretty straight. And there are rarely cops down here.” Mason explained, “Once the light goes green, make him your b****.”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but deep down, I was glad he said it.

The second the light went green, I let my foot off the clutch, and hit the accelerator, letting the car nearly redline for a second before shifting.

Within seconds, the other car was getting smaller in my rear view mirror, as Mason burst into laughter.

“You always hated commodores, and the idiots that drove them like that.” Mason explained, “You’d always try and drag them but none of your cars had what it took to keep up.”

Whilst I knew he wasn’t intending to hurt me, I couldn't help but sigh.

“You must really miss her…” I whispered.

Mason gave me a puzzled look.

“The old me. The one that died in that crash, and left me here to carry on.”

There was a silence for a second before he spoke.

“You don't believe you’ll ever get your memory back?” Mason asked solemnly, “Just then, you proved to me that the old you is in there somewhere.”

“I don’t know what I believe to be honest.” I replied, “Deep down, part of me would like to believe that this isn't forever. But I know that chances are, if I get my hopes up, and in ten years I am still the way I am, it will be horrible. I’d rather force myself to start again than constantly wonder if things will go back to normal.”

Mason was quiet, just thinking about the whole thing. I could tell he had a lot on his mind. A lot he wasn't telling me.

“Truth is it’s weird hearing this from you. You were the most optimistic person I knew. Which I needed, being the [i]ray of sunshine[\i] that I am.”

“That’s the thing. Everything you tell me about myself is weird.” I explained, “My life at the moment feels like the person who lived it before me has died, and I’ve been thrown in to cover for her, but only been read half the instruction manual. It’s like, the rest of the world expects me to know what I am doing, whilst I am running around blind.”

“Would you prefer if I didn't talk about before the crash?” Mason asked.

“No, please do!” I replied, “I enjoy learning more about myself. I guess that the flip side of that is coming to terms with the fact that I don't really know a thing about myself.”

“Well just let me say this.” Mason said, “Just know that whatever you do, I’ll have your back. Be it starting a new life, and kicking that off by learning to drive again and getting a new car, or going on a massive journey across Antarctica in hopes of finding yourself. I’ll have your back.”

I couldn't help but feel a little better about the whole situation. The other part of this whole thing that was confusing me was Mason himself. Half the time I find myself falling for him and the other half I am suspicious of him. But hearing that put my mind at ease. Mason is the best friend I have right now, and I need to be thankful for that.

“Thanks Mason.” I said, as I turned left at the intersection.

“Do you have any idea where you are or where you’re going?” Mason asked.

“No, why?”

“Because the last four turns you have taken, are the ones you'd have to take to get home, and I haven't told you where to go.” Mason said with a grin, “It’s all there. I know it. And maybe one day you will find it.”

We arrived at my house about half an hour later, significantly more confident that I hadn’t lost my ability to drive. And I was relieved that I hadn't damaged Mason’s car.

“So should we call up the person selling that Hyundai and organise a test drive?” Mason asked. I thought about it for a second.

“No, don’t.”

“How come?”

“You said my old car couldn’t beat a Commodore…” I explained, “Well it felt good thrashing that guy at the lights…”

Mason burst into laughter.

“What have I created…” he muttered to himself as he tried to get a grip, “Okay so you want a faster car than your Mazda 3?”

“Yeah.” I replied, “Even though it is pretty old, your car felt nice to drive. I’d put my foot down and actually feel it. What is yours again?”

“A Toyota MR2.” Mason replied, “But I don't think that's the right car for you. Besides, I don't know what your budget is, but for people our age, it would cost a little more than what we’d have available.”

“How come?” I asked, somewhat confused, “I didn't lose control or anything. And besides, I had savings before insurance paid me out, and now I have more. I'm looking to spend twenty thousand.”

“Jesus, I wish I had twenty thousand to spend on a car. And to be honest, you’re lucky you didn't lose control.” Mason replied, “The MR2 is mid engine, rear wheel drive, except you were driving the way you’d drive a front engine, front wheel drive car like your old Mazda. They handle much differently and if you aren't careful, an MR2 can be a lot more temperamental around corners. Let’s stick with a front engine car for now.”

“Fine…” I groaned half heartedly, feeling a slight bruise to my ego from today’s drive.

“Don’t be like that.” Mason laughed as he opened his laptop, “There are plenty of good front engine cars.”

He opened a folder called photography, clicking to one called cars, then another called favourites, clicking on the first image.

The first image was a small, two seater convertible with pop up headlights.



“Too small,” I said, “I don't think I could take myself seriously driving one of those.”

“Fair enough.” Mason said clicking onto the next image.



“That’s… alright…” I said, trying to think of some way to explain what I thought, “It looks too much like someone got the sort of car my mum would drive, and tried to make it look tough.”

Mason burst into laughter before clicking onto the next photo.



“I like that one.” I explained as I looked through the photo, “It has that classic sorta look, but still looks a little modern and different.”

“I like your taste, but I better stop you there.” Mason replied, “That has a rotary engine. Great engine if they’re well maintained and looked after. Nightmare if they aren't. If you wanted one of those you'd be better off buying all the pieces and rebuilding the whole thing from scratch to make sure it works. And I'm not much help there.”

“Fair enough.” I replied, still slightly disheartened, as Mason clicked onto the next image.



As I saw the car pop up onto the screen, I knew it was the one.

“I don’t car what you say, that’s it.” I said, pulling the laptop closer to get a better look, “That’s the car.”

Mason laughed, before opening his photography folder, and typing S15 into the search bar.

“That is a Nissan Silvia S15.” Mason explained, before clicking on one of the photos. It was the same car but from another angle, showing the back. I instantly fell in love with the taillights and the badge.

“It has a two-litre, turbocharged engine, same size as mine, with a little more power, but still plenty quick enough.” Mason said as he flicked through photos.

“And how much would one cost?” I asked, as that was one of the deciding factors for me. Mason opened up carsales and punched in the car, quickly selecting manual, roadworthy certificate and turbo, with a maximum price of twenty thousand.

Within seconds there were dozens of results.

“Take your pick.” Mason said, handing me the laptop. I scrolled through eventually stopping at a dark, metallic blue S15.

“What about that one?” I asked, handing the computer back to Mason. He quickly browsed through the photos.

“Looks clean.” Mason muttered as he scrolled through the comments, “Apparently owned by a middle aged bloke who imported it, so you know it hasn’t been thrashed.”

“So it’s good?” I asked, trying not to get too excited.

“Except one thing.” Mason explained, “It’s in Albury.”

“Where’s that?” I asked, feeling the excitement disappear in a heartbeat.

“About four hours north of here. In New South Wales, right near the border.” Mason said, “Basically it means that it is a slight gamble. Short of making multiple trips, the best we could do is drive up there for the day, take it for a test drive, and pay a mechanic to come and take a look at it, then decide if you want to buy it or not after that.”

I remained silent as I looked through the photos. It looked like a really nice car.

“So when are you free this week?” Mason asked, “If we leave here at 8, we can be there by midday, get lunch, test drive it, get it looked at and make a decision, then drive back by 3pm and be home by eight.”

“Wait, you’d drive me up there?” I asked, somewhat shocked.

“Sure.” Mason said, “If you really want this car, and it is as good as he says it is, what’s a day worth in comparison?”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“I am free whenever. I still haven’t really got anything to do until I figure out what I am going to do.” I replied.

“Well if that’s the case, what about the day after tomorrow?” Mason asked, “I have a shoot to do tomorrow, but the next day I have nothing.”

“That would be amazing!” I exclaimed, as I hugged him, nearly knocking him off the couch, “Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome.” Mason said, “Just let me take a drive of it as well. Half because I wanna make sure you aren’t getting ripped off, and half because I’ve never driven an S15.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, as I got up and made my way to the kitchen, and opened one of the drawers. I had discovered this recently. A drawer full of take away menus.

“I said I’d shout you dinner, and I plan on keeping my word.” I said, looking through some of the menus, “Do you like Thai food?”

“Haven’t had enough to know.” Mason replied.

“Neither.” I laughed, as I tossed him the menu, “Pick what looks good, and I’ll order it.”

Mason didn’t stay around a great deal longer after dinner. He mentioned a shoot the next day, and that he needed to make sure all his gear was ready. Memory Cards empty, batteries charged, lenses cleaned. It was interesting to see how a serious photographer treats their work as opposed to a teenager with a camera phone. Granted, he’d be stupid not to. This is his livelihood.

Still, I can’t help but wonder why he loves taking photos as much as he does...

[[Desolate Divine]]

Chapter 7 is up. It's far from my best work, however I did most of it, before taking a break then coming back and just wanting to finish it. I'll do chapter eight soon enough.

[Kentucky Fried Torchic]

Even now, hours after I finished your latest update, I am still processing the sublime beauty and subtle magnificence of what you have written. This story may be the most beautiful thing that I have ever read online, and that is not hyperbole. You have done such a marvelous job at not only bringing these characters to life, but infusing the entire tale with a deeply unique emotion and character. Your choice of subject matter is brilliant, and your handling of it, to be frank, is inspired. There is so much going on emotionally, morally inside of a deceptively simple initial concept. How many times have people wished for a second chance, to undo a wrong or to take a chance that they failed to? How wonderful would it be to have the opportunity to wipe away the mistakes of the past and begin building the idealized relationship with someone, unhindered by the mistakes of the past? But this Nietzschean fantasy has another side to it: that of the person who is rendered a stranger in his own life by the loss of memory, of his very essence of self. How terrifying would it be to not know who to trust, who to talk to, and to have little guidance when attempting to rebuild your shattered identity?

The former idea has been handled before, often in the context of quirky romantic comedies, and the latter by more dramatic affairs such as “Faces in the Crowd” or “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”, but the melding of the two concepts, as you have done, gives the story a wonder Janus-like feel to it. Mason’s freedom to rekindle his friendship with Emily is haunted by the deception-by-omission that he has to keep up in order to maintain their revived camaraderie and fear that he is taking advantage of her tragedy, whereas Emily’s terrifying ordeal is cushioned by the appearance of a real and supportive friend who is there for her, (quite the rarity in this day and age, I might add) easing her path to recovering who she was. In this way, your story defies the easy dichotomy of happy and sad, instead blending the two together into a form much more befitting the inseparable concoction we call life.

That seems to be one of your greatest strengths here: providing a very good depiction of real life. You provide us with details, but not overly so, rather in a more natural style akin to the way our human powers of observation actually operate. The same economical detail is paid to the internal life of Mason and Emily, with both of their viewpoints coming across clearly and concisely simply by narrative choices made in their respective chapters. Overall, this story is a beautiful portrait of the human condition and I eagerly anticipate seeing how it further develops.

[[Desolate Divine]]

Even now, hours after I finished your latest update, I am still processing the sublime beauty and subtle magnificence of what you have written. This story may be the most beautiful thing that I have ever read online, and that is not hyperbole. You have done such a marvelous job at not only bringing these characters to life, but infusing the entire tale with a deeply unique emotion and character. Your choice of subject matter is brilliant, and your handling of it, to be frank, is inspired. There is so much going on emotionally, morally inside of a deceptively simple initial concept. How many times have people wished for a second chance, to undo a wrong or to take a chance that they failed to? How wonderful would it be to have the opportunity to wipe away the mistakes of the past and begin building the idealized relationship with someone, unhindered by the mistakes of the past? But this Nietzschean fantasy has another side to it: that of the person who is rendered a stranger in his own life by the loss of memory, of his very essence of self. How terrifying would it be to not know who to trust, who to talk to, and to have little guidance when attempting to rebuild your shattered identity?

The former idea has been handled before, often in the context of quirky romantic comedies, and the latter by more dramatic affairs such as “Faces in the Crowd” or “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”, but the melding of the two concepts, as you have done, gives the story a wonder Janus-like feel to it. Mason’s freedom to rekindle his friendship with Emily is haunted by the deception-by-omission that he has to keep up in order to maintain their revived camaraderie and fear that he is taking advantage of her tragedy, whereas Emily’s terrifying ordeal is cushioned by the appearance of a real and supportive friend who is there for her, (quite the rarity in this day and age, I might add) easing her path to recovering who she was. In this way, your story defies the easy dichotomy of happy and sad, instead blending the two together into a form much more befitting the inseparable concoction we call life.

That seems to be one of your greatest strengths here: providing a very good depiction of real life. You provide us with details, but not overly so, rather in a more natural style akin to the way our human powers of observation actually operate. The same economical detail is paid to the internal life of Mason and Emily, with both of their viewpoints coming across clearly and concisely simply by narrative choices made in their respective chapters. Overall, this story is a beautiful portrait of the human condition and I eagerly anticipate seeing how it further develops.

Mate, you have no idea how much it made my day to read that. Truth is I have been struggling to find the motivation to write, as I felt like it wasn't getting noticed. I don't have the nerve to really show this to anyone in real life unless they specifically ask to see it, but at the same time want people to read it, hence why I am stuck in this limbo right now.

Thanks again for your comments. It has given me that little kick in the a*** I need to see this through! It means a lot.

[Pokemon Trainer Sarah]

Been meaning to read this for ages, about half way through now. I agree with KFT, you're really good with the little details that make everything seem realistic. Probably doesn't hurt that I know all the places you're talking about either haha.

The memory forgetting thing is interesting. I feel like it'd be kind of hard figuring out where to draw the line about what Emily remembers and has forgotten. Like she remembers you have to pay to use a bus but not that you need a card. It's kind of interesting to think about what a person would remember. I dunno what the deal is when this sort of thing happens in real life but I think you did a great job of making it believable. I do find it kind of hard to believe that her mum would let her keep living alone while she remembers nothing though haha.

There were quite a few lines I liked a lot but it's too hard to quote on phone so I'll save them for my next comment. Seriously good job on this though! You have a real talent. :)

[[Desolate Divine]]

Been meaning to read this for ages, about half way through now. I agree with KFT, you're really good with the little details that make everything seem realistic. Probably doesn't hurt that I know all the places you're talking about either haha.

The memory forgetting thing is interesting. I feel like it'd be kind of hard figuring out where to draw the line about what Emily remembers and has forgotten. Like she remembers you have to pay to use a bus but not that you need a card. It's kind of interesting to think about what a person would remember. I dunno what the deal is when this sort of thing happens in real life but I think you did a great job of making it believable. I do find it kind of hard to believe that her mum would let her keep living alone while she remembers nothing though haha.

There were quite a few lines I liked a lot but it's too hard to quote on phone so I'll save them for my next comment. Seriously good job on this though! You have a real talent. :)

Haha I feel like I draw the line with what she remembers based on what I kind of just knew and what I had to learn. The bus for example, I don't recall a time where I particularly learnt that you need to get a ticket for the bus, whilst I remember learning how the ticketing system works.

Yeah, that's a good point. My justification is that she is extremely independent and eager to prove that she isn't going to let this accident stop her haha

All good. Now I am curious as to what lines they are haha

I also thought you'd enjoy seeing all these places you know hahahahaha

[[Desolate Divine]]

Chapter 8
“This is going to be fun.” I muttered to myself. Last time I saw my brother, it turned very quickly into a lecture about Mason. And now I was having dinner at his place.

I got off the bus at the stop around the corner from his house, as the sun was starting to set. Tom had offered to drive me, but after last time, I figured that might not be a good idea. I tapped my ticket against the reader, as I walked off, and followed the directions on my phone to the address Tom texted me a few days earlier. Not long after, I found myself at a small house in a suburban street. The house looked like it was built about thirty years ago, but was well maintained and looked clean. I wished that part of me thought it was familiar, but there was no spark of recognition.

I made my way to the door and was soon after greeted by a pretty looking girl, a couple of years older than myself who opened the door.

“Hey Emily!” she said, as she hugged me, whilst I took a second to remember the name that Tom had mentioned. Bethany? She must have noticed my confusion.

“I’m sorry! Force of habit. I’m too used to doing that when I see you” the girl said, “I’m Brooke. Tom’s fiance.”

“It’s fine.” I replied, smiling at her, “Tom mentioned your name, but everything is all new, so some stuff slips.”

“Take as long as you need.” Broke said, “Not many people have been through what you have. Come in!”

I walked into the house, and followed Brooke into the kitchen area.

“Would you like a drink?” Brooke asked as she made her way to the kitchen, and I took a seat on one of the stools by the bench, “We have some soft drink, a shiraz, a few pinot noir’s. Tom might have some beer around for when his mates come around.”

“If you’re offering, I’ll take the beer.” I said with a grin, “So how long have you and Tom been together?”

“Eight years now.” Brooke replied as she looked through the fridge, finally emerging with a dark colored bottle, “Do you like Asahi?”

“I wouldn’t know. All I’ve had since the crash is Corona, but I’ll give it a go.” I said, as I took the bottle and removed the cap, “So how did you guys meet?”

“We met in our first year of uni.” Brooke explained, as she poured herself a glass of wine, “He was studying video production, and had to be filmed for his partners project. Basically they each wrote a script for the partner to follow, and then filmed it. The script he ended up having to follow was about a guy who had been spotted on campus walking around hugging a teddy bear.”

I nearly choked on my beer hearing this about my older brother who so far had done not much outside of fitting the generic, over-protective, big brother.

“I’d pay to see that…” I laughed, before taking another sip.

“The video is around somewhere. The beauty of studying video production.” Brooke replied, “He walked past me with this teddy-bear, looking humiliated, and I could see nearby some people laughing at him, so I gave them something to laugh at, and wrote down my number on a bit of paper and give it to him.”

“Really?” I asked, “You gave him your number just to stir up some a**holes?”

Brooke laughed at my question.

“When you put it that way it sounds a lot weirder than it actually is.” Brooke explained, “Truth be told, I intended to just get coffee or something, and that be it. But I actually had a good time. I’d just gotten out of a bad relationship, and that was the best night I had in awhile, so when he called, asking to go out again, I decided to give him a chance.”

“Lucky for him.” I said, unintentionally sounding a little colder than I intended, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Brooke said, “Tom told me what happened when he visited you. I love the guy, but hell, sometimes he has the emotional capacity of a bottlecap…”

Before I could reply, I heard the front door open.

“Speak of the devil…” Brooke joked before walking over towards the front door. A few moments later, she returned with Tom following right behind her.

“Hey Emily.” Tom said, before taking a seat on the stool next to me. He had come straight from work, and looked exhausted, “How’re you going?”

“Yeah I’m good.” I replied, before gesturing to the beer, “What about you? You look like you need one of these more than I do.”

Tom chuckled to himself, as Brooke handed him a beer.

“Work was nuts.” Tom explained, “I haven’t had a day as busy as this in years.”

“What do you do again?” I asked.

“I manage the video equipment at Deakin.” Tom replied, “All of the video cameras and other gear. I look after it.”

“Okay, so what does a busy day entail?” I asked, somewhat curious. He and Mason would probably get along well.

“Firstly, some idiot in the shop forgot to charge the batteries on the cameras that were returned, so we rented them to students with half flat batteries. Then someone forgot to get their footage off of the memory card before they returned it, and the next person to borrow it wiped it.” Tom explained, “And it is the start of the trimester, so all of the first years are clueless. Honestly, you’d think for people studying film, they’d have some sort of idea on how to use a camera.”

Whilst I knew I was being a smarta**, I couldn’t help myself.

“God, that sucks.” I replied, trying to remember everything Mason taught me the other day, “Honestly, if they’re doing this at uni, they should know that the aperture can affect the depth of field, and that the shutter speed can make the photo too dark!”

Tom choked as he heard that, and spluttered trying to catch his breath again.

“Where did you learn that?” Tom asked, wiping the tears from his eyes that came as a result from choking.

“My best friend is a photographer, remember?” I laughed, “He mentioned that I liked numbers and mentioned photography uses a lot of numbers and ratios, so I got him to explain it to me.”

“Right.” Tom muttered, taking another sip of his beer.

“Anyway, I was supposed to cook dinner today…” Brooke began, trying to diffuse the situation, before giving him a dirty look, “But then I saw the new season of Riverdale was up on Netflix and ended up bingeing that. So we’ll get something delivered. Anything you feel like in particular, Emily?”

“I’m not too fussed.” I said, “What would you like?”

“Pizza is easy.” Brooke replied, “Don’t even have to leave the room.”

“Pizza it is.”

The pizza arrived half an hour later, after a period of slight tension between myself and Tom, and Brooke trying to keep things calm. It was hard, seeing as in all honesty, I don’t have much more to talk about now outside of my time spent with Mason, which always seemed to put Tom on edge.


As we sat on the couch, eating our pizza, Tom made an attempt at conversation.

“So what are you doing this week?” Tom asked casually.

“Well, tomorrow I’m going up to Albury to look at a car.” I explained, before taking another bite of pizza.

“Already?” Tom asked, “Are you sure it isn’t too soon?”

“Well I’m getting sick of taking the bus and getting lifts everywhere.” I explained, “And I might as well try and move on with my life. I’m sick of this awkward, clean-up phase I am stuck in.”

“Fair enough.” Tom replied, “How do you know you can drive though?”

“Because I drove yesterday.” I said.

“Wait, what?”

“I was looking at cars yesterday, and asked Mason for some help.” I explained, “When we weren’t sure if I could drive, we went to the Greensborough Plaza carpark and did a few test laps.”

“How did it go?” Brooke asked, leaning forward a little.

“It was tricky getting the hang of it. Using the clutch and everything.” I explained, “But once I got started, it was all second nature. Mason even said that after a little while, without realizing I was driving home. He said everything is still in there.”

“So what car are you looking at.” Tom asked, “A Mazda 3 like your old one?”

“Nah, after driving Mason’s car, I don’t think I could.” I explained with a grin, “An S15.”

Tom looked at me confused, so I pulled out my phone and showed them a photo.

“Looks fast.” Brooke said, “I like it.”

Tom however was silent.

“Come on.” I asked, slightly annoyed, “You have a problem with Mason helping me find a car now?”

“Not that.” Tom replied, “Just don’t make any rash decisions. Just say you woke up tomorrow with your memory back, and wonder why the hell you went and bought a rice-burner?”

“And just say I don’t.” I said to him, slightly loudly, “Just say I go to sleep every night for the rest of my life thinking I might remember something, putting everything on hold until then, and wake up every morning disappointed?”

“I’m not saying-” Tom began, however I cut him off.

“This is something I have had to come to terms with. My old life is gone.” I explained to him, “I am having to figure out who I am, but maybe who I am isn’t who I was. I’m a different person now, and if you’re expecting me to eventually become who I was, you’re probably going to be in for a shock.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t try.” Tom retorted.

“How? How the hell do I try?” I asked, “I have had Mason tell me about our teenage years, and it is nice, but I still feel like I am being told about someone else. And I know that deep down, he misses the old me, and I end up feeling like s*** that I can’t be that person any more. I’m sorry Tom, but your sister died in that crash, and I’m what’s left!”

I stopped for a second, realizing what I was saying. I looked down and saw my hands shaking.

Before I could say anything more, Tom got up and stormed off into the bedroom. A second later I heard his fist pound against the door.

“For f***’s sake.” I muttered to myself, before looking over at Brooke who looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“I’m sorry.” I said, hanging my head.

“Don’t be.” Brooke said, “You’re right you know.”

“I’m not just being stubborn?” I asked.

“No, you are.” Brooke explained, “But so is he.”

I chuckled to myself.

“Honestly, it feels like I have no idea how to keep him happy.” I explained, “I mean, a normal person would have their own experience with a person to know what sets them off, but I have nothing.”

“Truth is, what you said is right.” Brooke said, “He thinks he has lost his sister, but now that you’re being so independent, and starting again, he probably thinks that even more. I guess that you’re just as much of a stranger to him as he is to you.”

I was silent for a second.

“Were things like this between us before?” I asked.

“Sometimes. You are both pretty headstrong, and once you set your mind to it, there is no stopping you. If you agreed about something, that was great. However when you didn’t, it was like this. You guys just had a mutual understanding to talk about stuff that you would disagree on.” Brooke explained, “He does love you though. When you were in hospital, he spent more time there than anywhere else. And he always said he’d make sure to be around when you got out to help however he could, and was looking forward to it.”

“And now all I talk about is Mason this and Mason that.” I muttered.

“It’s great that he is there for you.” Brooke said, “But I think Tom thought you’d need him a little more than you do.”

“Well now I feel like a b****.” I said.

Our conversation was cut short by Tom walking back into the room, and taking a seat next to Brooke.

“I’m sorry.” Tom murmured, “I was out of line.”

“I can count the amount of times I’ve heard him say that on one hand.” Brooke said jokingly.

“I just worry about you, especially now that you’re doing life practically blindfolded.” Tom said, “And if Mason is helping you out as much as he is, then we owe him one. What you do with him is none of my business.”

I was slightly shocked hearing this. I could see Tom was struggling to say it. Not because he didn’t mean it, but more admitting he was at fault when he knew it was true.

“Thanks Tom.” I replied, before trying to lighten the mood, “And once I get the car, I’ll let you take it for a drive, just so you can say you’ve driven something fast.”

Tom chuckled to himself.

“No little turbocharged rice-burner is quicker than my commodore.”

“Jesus Christ, don’t tell me you drive one of those things?!” I exclaimed, “I thrashed one in Mason’s MR2 yesterday!”

“Isn’t that one of those little mid engine, 2 door Toyota’s?” Tom asked, “Either he wasn’t trying or you’re full of s***.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the comment, as I grabbed another slice of pizza.

The rest of the night was fairly uneventful. Tom had a few stories from our childhood which I enjoyed hearing. Most of what I knew of my life was from when I was at least fifteen. This is the first I’d heard of anything before that.

Later on, Brooke went to sleep, and Tom gave me a lift home.

“Thanks for dinner.” I said, “And be nice to Brooke. You’re batting way out of your league there.”

“No s***.” Tom laughed, as I undid my seatbelt, “Before you go, I remembered something tonight you probably want to know.”

“What’s that?”

“So when you were thirteen or so, you got bullied a lot at school to the point where you ended up seeing a counsellor for a little while.” Tom said, “And something you had to do as part of that was once a month make a video diary.”

“My laptop had to be wiped so I could use it.” I explained, “It’s probably deleted.”

“Not necessarily.” Tom explained, “Video recording is my job remember?”

“Okay, enlighten me.” I asked, curious as to all of this, “How could it have survived?”

“Until you bought your own computer, you had one of my old ones, which only had a 120gb hard drive. And you showed me a couple of your videos, and they were all around ten minutes each.” Tom explained, “Basically, I don’t think you stored them on your computer.”

“Each of those videos were about ten minutes, and in that format, that’d make them about 2gb each. Between that, your operating system, and everything else, you wouldn’t have space for them all.” Tom said, “I reckon you put them on a portable hard drive.”

I was silent for a second. This was perfect. Even if I am not the same person, at least, I can see who I was.

“I know you did that for at least five years after, until I moved out. You might have even done it longer.” Tom explained, “Long story short, you might have five to ten years of your life, hidden on a hard drive somewhere.”

“Thanks Tom.” I replied, “I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

I gave him a hug, before making my way to my apartment. Whilst I knew I should probably sleep, I stayed up for a few hours, tearing my apartment to pieces, trying to find this hard drive.

[[Desolate Divine]]

Hey guys. Sorry I haven't posted much recently. Managed to get myself addicted to a game and binge watch anime which has taken most of my time. I'll be writing a chapter tomorrow night once I finically figure out how to introduce something to the story.

[[Desolate Divine]]

Chapter 9
I awoke to the sound of my alarm beeping at 7:15am. As was becoming normal, I felt my head throb. I drank again last night…

I got up and got dressed, downing glasses of water to try and hydrate myself, and stop myself from feeling like death. Before heading off, I quickly cleaned out the beer bottles from the lounge, hiding them in a box in the laundry, in case Emily came around. It wasn’t bin day yet, and I didn’t want the neighbors to see them and start getting ideas.

Within fifteen minutes, the house was tidier, and the evidence of my problem was out of sight. I grabbed my keys, wallet and camera, before walking out the door and taking the elevator to the garage.

I arrived at Emily’s apartment fairly soon. Whilst the traffic was starting to build up when I got there, it wasn’t due to get really bad for another hour or so. By that point, we’d hopefully be on the freeway heading north for a fairly nice drive up to Albury.

I had confirmed yesterday with the person who listed the S15 on Car Sales that it was still available and let him know we were coming to take a look and go for a test drive. I had also gotten in touch with a mechanic nearby, and offered to pay him to come with us to take a look, as well as made some calls with the registration numbers to make sure it wasn’t stolen. All the gears were in motion. If we liked what we saw, and the mechanic said it was all good, we might just be taking two cars back from Albury.

When Emily walked out of her front door, I tossed her the keys to the MR2.

“You’re not serious…” Emily said, “You said that last time I nearly lost control.”

“Once or twice.” I replied, “I exaggerated it a little so you’d get a more sensible car. But you need to get some practise in, especially if you’re gonna take the S15 for a spin this afternoon.”

“Fine.” Emily sighed, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you…”

Emily climbed into the driver’s seat as I took the unusual spot in the passenger seat next to her whilst she started the engine. This time, her initial take-off was much smoother, with the tyres actually gripping instead of leaving black rubber on the road.

I directed a rather nervous Emily towards the freeway that would make up most of our trip to Albury. Once we got on the freeway, and she realized how simple and boring of a trip it would be, she relaxed a little.

“So I’ve been thinking about Aaron…” Emily began.

“Please tell me you aren’t getting back with that d***.” I asked jokingly.

“Never. But that’s the thing.” Emily replied, “You hate him. And from what I have seen and heard, I don’t like the guy either. So why the hell did I date him?”

“You really want to know?” I asked, “One of the benefits of your situation is that it becomes really hard to be embarrassed about stuff like who you chose to date.”

“Maybe I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.” Emily laughed, “So how did I meet this a**hole?”

“Well he went to our school. He was in the grade above us.” I explained, “You guys never really spoke until the start of year twelve. He had just graduated and you accidentally ran into him at a concert or something and started talking. And it kinda just escalated from there.”

“Did you know he was-” Emily began.

“A p****?” I replied, “Not for sure. He rubbed me the wrong way, but you seemed happy, so I let it slide and put up with him. I mean, I wasn’t going to tell you to dump his a** because I didn’t like him, for reasons I didn’t even understand.”

“Fair enough.” Emily replied, “Though in hindsight, I wish you had.”

“And in hindsight, I wish you caught the bus instead, the day you had your crash.” I retorted jokingly, “Hindsight is a funny thing isn’t it?”

“Very funny indeed.”

Emily continued to drive for the next hour, before tagging out and pulling over. I climbed into the driver’s seat, before taking off onto the freeway again. The last time I saw Emily before her accident, she wasn’t comfortable driving for too long. She didn’t do a great deal of long distance driving on her learner’s permit and wasn’t used to it, whilst I had family who lived in Adelaide and drove there and back a few times. Long drives were a walk in the park for me.

“What about you?” Emily asked.

“What about me?” I asked back.

“Do you have any unsavoury ex lovers?” Emily asked gleefully.

“Lovers? Jesus, you make it sound like I had some sort of mistress.” I replied.

“Point taken. I won’t call them that.” Emily asked, “But do you?”

“Only one.” I replied, “She herself isn’t necessarily a bad person or anything. In another life, had we not dated, we’d have been good friends. Things were just messy when we broke up.”

“How so?” Emily asked.

“I was twenty one at the time, and not in the best state of mind. In all honesty, I am surprised it lasted as long as it did, seeing as I was not in the right headspace to be in a relationship.” I explained, “She wanted to be a priority, which is fair enough mind you, and I just couldn’t make her one. Between work and all of the s*** going on in my head, I unintentionally shut her out, and it hit her hard. So after six months when the relationship did turn to s***, it was really messy.”

“Have you tried contacting her since?” Emily asked.

“No.” I replied, “I hate to admit this, but I have a bad habit of burning bridges without realizing. And that was one of them.”

“Well you didn’t burn this bridge.” Emily said with a smile, as I felt a knot form in my stomach. I needed to tell her, but after her encounter with Aaron that would be hard. And we still had two and a half hours to Albury, all day there, then four hours drive home if this car doesn’t work out. Too long to sit in awkward silence.

Before the conversation could continue, my attention was drawn to my rear view mirror, and the red and blue lights flashing in it, and the sound of a siren. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

“Were you speeding?” Emily asked nervously.

“No it’s not that.” I replied, “It’s a random intercept. They probably want to try and defect my car.”

“Can they?” Emily asked.

“Good luck to them if they try.” I muttered, as I pulled over, “It happens fairly often. Profiling me because of the car. If we get this S15, that’s something you will get used to quickly.”

I slowed down to a stop and rolled down my window, as the police officer walked out of the car towards me.

“License please?” the cop asked bluntly.

“Any reason you pulled me over?” I asked as I handed him the card, “I wasn’t speeding.”

“Just a random intercept.” the cop replied, as he took the card back to his car to run the number through their computer.

“Random, my a**.” I muttered to myself.

As the cop walked back to his car, I watched him in the side mirror, glancing down at the tyres to check if they were legal. They weren’t even four months old, so I knew they were safe.


A few minutes later the cop returned with my license.

“The license checks out.” He said, as he handed me the card.

“So I can go?” I asked.

“Not just yet. I just want to take a quick look over your car.” he replied, before tapping the front of the car.

“Can you please open the bonnet?” he asked, as internally I groaned. Another cop who thought he was a mechanic. I obliged to the letter, pulling the lever on my door, before stepping out of the car to lift up the bonnet. I saw a look of confusion hit the cop’s face as it lifted, and revealed a spare tyre and a small amount of cargo space.

“What the hell?” he said.

“If you’re looking for the engine, it’s in the back…” I muttered, “You know what the engine is, right?”

“Watch it.” the cop replied attempting to sound threatening, “You’d hate to get this defected. It’d probably cost more to get roadworthied than the car is worth.”

“Good luck with that.” I replied, as I lifted the ventilated cover off of the engine bay.

The engine bay had been arranged by a professional to allow for the best use of space, and to give a little extra space for a bigger turbocharger, should I decide to add one. All of the piping was chrome, with the rocker cover custom painted. Truth is, when I got this car, I spent way too much money putting it into collectors condition.

After about twenty minutes of the cop looking for anything to use as an excuse to defect me, even resorting to checking how low the car was at every point, and how loud the exhaust was, he finally seemed to have given up.

“So can I go?” I asked irritably, “Because I kind of have plans, and my passenger is waiting.”

“Fine.” the cop muttered, before going back to his car. I made my way back into the driver’s seat of the MR2.

“Sorry about that.” I muttered, “The guy was a d***.”

“What happened?” Emily asked, “Did he defect you?”

“God knows he tried.” I replied as I took off, “The reason it took so long was because he was looking for anything unroadworthy, and there is nothing. I paid a crap-tonne getting it into this condition. Not like he’d know anything anyway. The idiot didn’t even know where to look for the engine.”

Emily laughed, as we continued to drive.

Whilst he was being subtle, I could see the cop a few car lengths behind me. I was sitting underneath the speed limit, however he wasn’t taking the opportunity to overtake me like everyone else on the road, but instead kept me in his sights, waiting for me to do something wrong. Eventually an idiot in a late nineties commodore flew past us, and caught his attention, causing him to overtake me and chase the new guy down. Pretty soon after we drove past both of them pulled over on the side of the road, as I returned to my normal speed of a few k’s over the limit.

“By the way, I found out something interesting last night.” Emily said cheerfully.

“What’s that?” I asked, thinking nothing of it.

“I went to Tom’s place for dinner, and he said that I was bullied a fair bit when I was a kid, and ended up in therapy because of it.”

“I’d call that more scarring than interesting, but each to their own.” I retorted half jokingly.

“No, not that.” Emily explained, “Apparently they made me record a video diary once a month. Tom said I did that for at least five years, maybe longer, and that I probably put them on a portable hard-drive.”

“Wait, what?” I replied, slightly shocked.

“Basically, five to ten years of my life is stored on a hard-drive somewhere in my apartment.” Emily explained, “If I can find this, I can start putting the pieces of my life back together.”

“That’s awesome.” I lied, as a fear gripped me. If she found this hard drive, it could jeopardize everything. I wanted to tell her eventually, but in my own time, and if she finds out from this first, then everything I have worked towards could be gone in the blink of an eye.

“I just need to think of where I put it.” Emily explained, “If it is a video diary, then chances are I would hide it somewhere. I just can’t think of where I’d hide stuff.”

Suddenly I had a sense of deja vu, and a flashback to six years ago. Emily’s eighteenth birthday party.


This time I was the first to arrive at the party. After the year before, where I ruined the whole night, I was eager to show Emily that I wasn’t taking her second chance for granted.

I sat by the fire outside, as Emily came to the back door, and looked around, before quickly and silently gesturing at me to follow her. I got up and followed her up the stairs in silence, into her room as she shut the door.

“What’s going on?” I asked curiously.

“I wanted to show you something before everyone else arrived.” Emily replied with a grin.

“But it’s only your family here?” I asked, “Why are you being so secretive?”

“Dad doesn’t let me have guys in my room, and I can imagine Aaron wouldn’t be impressed if he knew you were in here. And if Tom found out about this, it’d be gone in a day.”

Emily walked over to a tall. vertical set of shelves. It was a large white rectangle that stood upright, with shelves crossing it. She quickly moved the contents off of the base, and pushed down on it with a little bit of force. Suddenly there was a click, as she removed a panel, revealing a small cavity, from which she produced a bottle of red liquid.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s an awesome hiding place.” Emily explained, “A few years back when Mum let me redecorate, she gave me her card and let me buy stuff online. So I got this set of shelves just in case.”

“That’s cool,” I replied, “But I was talking about the bottle.”

“Jack Daniel’s whiskey.” Emily replied, “But packed full of cinnamon so it burns a little more going down.”

Seemingly out of nowhere, she produced two shot glasses, filling them both, before returning the bottle to its hiding place, and replacing the panel that now sat flush and seemed to be part of the shelf.

Emily handed me a shot glass.

“To an awesome night.” she exclaimed, holding her glass up, and gesturing at me to do the same, “And many more.”

At the same time we both drank the shots, and both cringed at the burning in our mouths and throats, before making our way downstairs as to avoid anyone noticing we weren’t there.


Emily kept talking, but I was only half listening.

“Emily isn’t one to break a habit.” I thought to myself, “If she still has those shelves, chance are the hard drive is in there.”

I was trying to calm myself down, but it wasn’t working. Whilst I knew that Emily probably wouldn’t find it on her own, I wasn’t sure if anyone else knew that hiding place existed. If someone did, and mentions it to her, then she would, and I couldn’t take that chance. I’d have to find it first.

I felt a sense of guilt wash over me at the thought of taking this hard drive, knowing how important it was to her. However, the contents of it could be dangerous.

I could take it, check it, then return it. However I didn’t have time to look over nearly ten years worth of entries, and I didn’t have the right to watch that.

In the end, I settled for a compromise. I’d find it, and remove everything dated after that night when things between us went to s***. I’d keep it so that she could see it one day, after I had a chance to explain everything to her.

At least, that’s what I told myself, when deep down, a big part of me just wanted to remove those files from existence, and pretend things between us never changed.

[[Desolate Divine]]

Chapter 9 is up. This is where it will start to get interesting.

Hands up if Mason's plan is going to blow up completely in his face??