Time, She Will Be Your Living End (David Bowie Fanfiction)

Nineteen Seventy

I had four hours left of 1969. I was hoping, in a way, that the world would explode and maybe I could just wake up from this dream. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't wake up. This is real.

I didn't change the clothes I was wearing but I sat at the table in the corner of my bedroom and put on some eyeshadow. In the mirror I saw a reflection of the record player that was just collecting dust. 'I must put on a record' I thought. I got out David Bowie's self titled album, which in the present (or future) is just called Space Oddity, slid the paper sleeve out from the gorgeous outer artwork, then gently placed the vinyl disc on the turntable. A warm feeling rushed through me as I did the ritual of placing the needle and hearing that little pop. The disc was perfect, well in theory it was brand new.

I sat on my bed listening to the heavenly music, waiting for the arms on the clock to roll round to ten instead of eight, so this night could finally be over.

After making my way through as many albums as I could the time was finally ten to ten, which signaled that it was probably about time to leave for the pub.

I turned off all the lights and locked the door behind me, not forgetting to pick up some money. The stars lit up the dark sky and hoards of people walked the streets looking for a place to go for New Year's. Not a single car was driving by. The pavements were packed so I walked in the road instead. I reached the end of the street and it was suddenly quiet, everyone had clearly made it to wherever they were going. The cold air blew through my hair and I crossed my arms to keep myself as warm as I could.

The streets were deadly silent, I was probably the only one walking the streets of Beckenham at this time. But that silence and emptiness disappeared when I saw a figure stumbling about in the distance. The streetlights at the figure's end were out and on my end they were shining above me. I stopped in the middle of the street, watching the dark silhouette come closer to me. I gathered together that the person was a man, I could only tell by his shape and the fact that he was... singing, or just mumbling some strange noises.

The man staggered towards me and began to emerge into the artificial light. I worked up from his feet. He wore some smart boots, black straight-leg trousers, a loose shirt, and a loose fitted jacket. He was a slim man, very slim. But what he was wearing and the build of his body was nothing. It was when I saw his face that I was beginning to think I was going insane. My lips parted with shock as I walked towards him. A young man with the face of an angel, who I recognised instantly with absolutely no struggle, was standing no more than four metres in front of me.

"This is ground control to ma- err Tom... errr... oohh God-" He stumbled and fell to the ground and laid out flat, looking as if he was stargazing.

"Oh dear."

I ran to the young man who was lying in the road, attempting to sing. I knelt down beside him and looked over him. My eyes gazed into his perfect blue ones, one pupil more dilated than the other.

"David Bowie?" I said with deep curiosity in my voice.

"Hello love." He looked like he was one with the stars, barely able to keep it together. He was drunk, or high. Possibly both.

"Oh dear, here let me help you up. Give me your hand, please." Or not.

I placed my hand under his head, my hand almost running through his thick, curled hair. I pulled him up off of the ground and held him up. All of his body weight was leaning onto me, he was very light so that wasn't much of a bother. But what was a bother was when he turned away from me and was sick in the road.

"Oh I am sorry, love." Before he fell over again I managed to run over and catch him.

"It's absolutely no bother at all. Come with me back to my apartment and you can sort yourself out there."