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Bobjan70 The Journal

I found a new journal today. This one shall not leave my side; I don't want to lose it like I did the last. Tomorrow I shall start anew on these fresh pages and continue to chronicle my struggle in this godforsaken place. But the light is fading and for now I shall hide it away.

I again survived the night and again I'm not sure whether to be thankful. I have enough food for several weeks now after finding my way into the collapsed market and I'm sure there will be more to be found. I will go back tomorrow.

They came again yesterday, atop a crumbling multi–story, not far from where I sat, breathless from my exertions from digging. A blinding flash and there they stood, in dazzling white suits. They didn't see me or didn't care. Either way, I was insignificant to them; a feral creature scrabbling in the rubble to prolong it's futile life. They never stay long, mere minutes, then always gone in the flare of pure white leaving nothing but the smell of burnt ozone. I don't know, it may be the lack of food or tainted drinking water, but I'm pretty sure I'm going mad.

I went back to try and retrieve more food today but the hole that had taken me days to clear had gone. The roof had fallen in. It would be futile to try and clear the debris again. I cried. But I have provision for now, many days worth, it will give me a time to look for more.

The loneliness is unbearable. I haven't seen another human being for months. Whereas before I would have hid, now I'm not so sure. After the last time, I swore never to reveal myself to anyone. I don't want to have to kill again.

Tomorrow I'll head down town, there may be something I missed before.

I was sick last night. It may've been the out of date food, or something else, I don't know. I don't have the luxury of being able to throw it away, and I don't know how long it will last, so I'll try it again later and see what happens. Don't have the energy to do anything today.

I'm feeling much better and last night's food stayed down. I'll change to my second water source, just to be sure.

Another flash today. I was closer this time and could see them more clearly. They look almost human, or it may have been my mind playing tricks, I can't tell any more. I think they're wearing some sort of Hazmat suit. Maybe they know something I don't; they know Earth is contaminated with whatever hit us, or maybe whatever they hit us with.

I didn't find any food.

I have found a new pen. Much has happened since I dropped my last one in the rubble, gone between the cracks, never to be seen again. With it, I have found a huge cache of provisions and barring any sickness or injury I will be fine for some time.

But that's not all. I think I have worked out a pattern for the flashes and sure I know where they, the aliens, will arrive next. It's the first time my university education has helped me since the disaster; Quantum Physics hasn't assisted much in my survival so far.

I plan to lay in wait, to try and see what they are. It may be dangerous but I don't care any more. I just want some answers, or an end to it all. Still, it's made me feel alive again; something that's been missing for so long.

They are human. I nearly ran to them when I saw but managed restraint. I needed to find out more before revealing myself.

They appeared exactly where I predicted, being so close I witnessed their arrival. Minutes before they came the air was alive with static, my greasy hair standing on end, goosebumps spreading over my body. As I watched, a small crack formed from nowhere, a fissure of incandescent light spilling out. A ragged rip suddenly split the air and the distorted forms stepped through. They are indeed in some kind of protective suit; a light, paper thin all–in–one, faces behind clear plastic visors.

There were five, always five; three men and two women of varying ages. The oldest seemed to be in charge, although no–one spoke. He pointed to different parts of the destroyed cityscape, and they nodded solemnly. I even think I saw one shed a tear.

It wasn't long before the light returned. They hurriedly stepped back through and for an instant appeared almost panicked, desperate to leave. Once through, like lightening the tear closed.

I know where they will be tomorrow. Tomorrow I will reveal myself.

What have I done. I didn't mean for this to happen. I just wanted some answers.

She was so beautiful, so young. All I did was reach out, desperate to feel the touch of another. She shrank away, piercing blue eyes full of terror but I couldn't stop myself. The thin suit tore so easily, like delicate tissue paper, and the second I gripped her thin pale arm she was gone, consumed in a phosphorescent flame, reduced to a fine floating ash.

The others fled as soon as the rift opened. Only the old one looking back, pity and sorrow in his eyes.

I lay curled in a ball for hours, regret paralysing me. I have killed again but this time there was no justification, no self defense, only selfish want.

I need to know why, though. Maybe it's the scientist in me but I need to find out who they are and why they come. I shall go again tomorrow and see if they come. I have my doubts.

Ignorance is bliss. I know now who they are but I'm conflicted as to whether this is a good thing.

Only one came today, the old man. I stood back, not getting too close, not wanting another death on my conscience. He smiled at me, but it was not of joy, his eyes showing a deep pain. I asked him who he was, where he came from, what the light was. But he did not, or could not, answer.

Slowly he lifted his arm holding out an object to my face. In a clear container, made of the same material as his visor, was a dogeared, battered book. I stared in wonder, slipping my hand into the waistband, pulling out the book's twin. I held up the journal and he smiled; the understanding hitting immediately.

His crooked smile; his grey eyes, flecked with blue; the scar above the left eye where as a child he had fallen while stealing apples from old Bernard's orchard. He did not just hold up my journal - he also held his own.

My mind tumbled in confusion and realisation, fighting to comprehend the incomprehensible.

I stumbled forward and stood millimetres from his/my face, angry tears welling in my eyes. He did not move, he knew what happened next, he had of course, been through this before. I screamed at him, wanting answers he obviously could not give, wanting to know why if he knew the future, he did not stop the previous days tragedy. Why he had let the girl die when he already knew her fate.

He lowered his head, a tear rolling down his wizened cheek, shaking his head. He turned, head still bowed as the fissure appeared, and I knew this would be our last encounter.

He paused before his last step, looking towards the west and pointed. In the distance a fiery speck shot across the sky, a smoke trail splitting the evening sunset. The old man nodded one last time and disappeared into the light.

I sit in a Mars rescue shuttle, still numb from yesterday's encounter. They think it's the shock of being alone for so long; how can I tell them the truth. In some ways I still don't believe it myself and the doubts continue to hover in the corner of my mind; just mad thoughts from a deranged mind. But we shall see. If time travel is possible I shall make it my life's work to discover the answers, I shall not rest until I find a way to undo the hurt I have done.

I must stop my past and future.