Timeline

The reflection in the mirror is testament of the dedication I poured into my work. The laborious nights of calibrating and calculating. The endless hours of planning and developing. All in an effort to get to this day of completion. The reflection however also bears witness of the misery I endured. The horror I lived with each day over the past years. I could still see their faces; stained with blood and sheer agony, haunting me like moving pictures in my head forever stuck on replay. I was young then, overzealous, naïve and foolish! 

A handful of water is splashed against my face. The water trickles through the scruffy facial hair now occupying my skin. I have not taken note to the extent of my unkempt appearance. There are bags beneath my reddened bloodshot eyes. My hairline has receded yet somewhat lengthy though excessively gray and knotted. As I reach for the morphine filled syringe I notice the discoloration of my fingernails and how wrinkled my hands have become.

Today is the day I set everything right; today is the day I pay penance for my mistake. There is 0% knowledge that this undertaking will be successful yet, as unknown and uncharted it may be, this journey is necessary. Necessary. I struggled to justify why this was my frame of mind but no one understood. No one understands a burden as heavy as guilt. The needle penetrates my skin and I can feel the anesthetic seeping through my vein. My eyes flutter momentarily…

“I must hurry” I think to myself as I make my way down the ramp.

There is a loud screeching sound from the hinge of the metallic door as I pry it open. Much heavier than I remembered being the case a week ago. The smell of rust and burnt rubber being masked with ammonia overwhelms my senses upon entry. I hate ammonia. Ever since I was a child I remember begging mother not to use it around the house on her "Chore Sundays". Nonetheless it is presently a discomfort that I must bear. Through the cockpit’s window, Isabel stands off in the distance. Her eyes are filled with water as she sobs silently. Amongst the ruins of falling cities - we found each other and just when hope seemed but a dimmed light drifting too the distance she saved me. She saved me from the insanity of being responsible for everything that happened. She was aware of who I was, the man who caused her entire family to be murdered yet she somehow found it in herself to forgive me. She begged me not to go, not to sacrifice my life for something that may not work but she must understand that this is how I'll repay her – this is what needs to be done.

I built this device - this machine - an elaborate capsule to help me escape this future to change, no, adjust the past. Scavenged remains of the technology that almost eradicated us all ironically has become our only means of continued existence. This technology was never meant to be ours – we were never ready for the power it possessed. Many died and those who were able to survive suffer to this day. I was not aware what would have happened but SynX knew. They knew all this time. There was no way we could have been blamed for the decisions they made…

 Who am I kidding, it was entirely my fault. We were the cause of our own destruction. The technological advances we made since their arrival would have taken us centuries to accomplish on our own. In essence we should have been thanking them.

I strap myself into the cold leather chair. The lights from the hub before me flash intermittently and I begin to feel the morphine taking effect on my sensory and motor abilities. I know what I need to do - I must stop myself no matter what the consequence. I am already aware this is a one way journey therefore what must be done will be done. “A life for a life” sort of speaking but if I am successful many will be spared.  I cannot let history repeat itself. From the dashboard I notice the date has already been entered – September 1^st 2012. Just enough time. Slowly my eyes begin to close; there is a tingling in my fingers with a numbing sensation already at the tips. I attempt to shake off the effects of the drug in effort to complete one final task. I reach out to the switchboard and with the single flick of a switch; the turbines are enabled, gradually increasing with power. The vibration can be felt as my capsule begins to convulse. With the single flick of a switch the fittings outside rapidly begin to sway surrounding the shell. With the single flick of a switch the remaining electricity is drained from the patched up generator, total darkness, then, a sudden deafening blast explodes from the machine. There is a blinding light and I strain to focus on what may be next to transpire. The cosmos has come to greet me; there are trillions of stars in my reach. Trillions of possibilities that could occur, that I could never predict. Yet here I go and with the single flick of a switch it is obvious I no longer exist... Within this timeline.