PROJECT NIRVANA | ONC2020 ✔️

Chapter 10.

I opened my eyes to a peeling, brown ceiling and the annoying sensation of a fly buzzing by my ear. My mind felt foggy and the events of the last few moments swam through my mind like stealthy shadows. I only remembered a vast blue ocean and the bubblings escaping from my nose as I sunk to its sandy bottom.

The room smelled damp, the humidity causing beads of sweat to roll down my forehead. I could hear the humming of a fan as it swiveled around the room, blowing lukewarm air into my face at even intervals. I focused my gaze at the ceiling, too scared to find out where I was.

After a while, I decided to move my body; only then did I realize that I had been sitting on a thin green couch with a ragged pillow sitting in my lap. The object felt both foreign and familiar; deja vu washed over me, making me confused. Was this real? Or was it just a dream?

I desperately wished for it to be real. That would mean that we had been successful in escaping. But I still didn't remember how I had ended up here.

It was then that I noticed a thin woman with auburn hair sitting on the couch across from me. Her eyes were glazed and half-closed as she stared at me. A glass of whiskey hung from her hand, the yellow liquid sloshing from side to side as she brought it to her lips.

"You should break up with him," she said.

"Huh." I'd been caught off-guard.

"You should break up with Jason. This is the last time I'm going to tell you."

Jason? Who was that? And who was this woman?

I stood up from the chair, feeling the urge to look around the house. "I think I need to go to the bathroom for a second. I'll be right back."

The woman didn't respond but re-occupied herself with her drink.

I left the room and trudged up the stairs. I would probably find clues about what was going on by investigating one of the bedrooms. The first door I opened revealed the bathroom, but I quickly shut it and opened another one.

This room held a small twin-sized bed, an old bookshelf, and a desk. I was shocked by what I saw on the wall. It was a picture of me and the strange woman with the auburn hair.

We had similar features like the small crinkles beneath our eyes and the rounded shape of our ears, features I didn't share with my mom in Nirvana. I drew closer to the picture as realization dawned on me. The woman was my mother. I had returned to my original life before the simulation.

I glanced down at the desk and spotted another picture. It was a picture of Avron and I holding hands, laughing with each other. The words 'Jason hearts Emily' were scribbled on the surface with black sharpie. I remembered what the woman, my mother, had said about breaking up with someone named Jason. Then that meant that Avron was Jason and I must be Emily.

I had to take a seat on the bed to calm my racing mind. It would be an understatement to say that I was shocked. Avron had been a part of my real life. Nirvana had not marked our first time meeting. We had even dated each other in the real world.

But then, why would we have wanted to go through the simulation? From the picture I saw, we looked happy and very much in love. Could something have changed? Something I wasn't aware of. I wondered whether it had something to do with my mother telling me to break up with him.

This was most likely all a dream. My memories were panning out like a movie with me playing the main actress. I was reliving everything in order to understand why I had exchanged my real life for a rose-tinted simulation.

My heart thumped as I realized that I was getting closer to the truth. Finding out why I had decided to live in Nirvana suddenly felt more important than escaping from it.

I glanced around at my humble surroundings. It was not nearly as lavish as my room back in Nirvana. But it was real. It wasn't an illusion that could disappear into thin air. This was home. And it belonged to me.

I went over to the desk, searching for more clues about my life in this seemingly foreign world. The surface was filled with old school assignments, a collection of pretty looking rocks, and newspaper clippings. I must have been a pretty messy person in the past.

The clippings caught my eye. Most of them recounted the events of a murder whose victim's name was Tom Daniels.

Daniels.

I recognized that name. A quick look at the old school assignments lying on the table showed me that it was my last name. I was Emily Daniels. So that meant that Tom Daniels was a relative, most likely my father.

A cut-out picture showing his brown eyes and bright smile that mirrored my own told me that I was right. I was the daughted of a murder victim.

Hot tears rolled down my eyes and fell to my cheeks. But I didn't know why I was crying for a man I barely knew. I had no memories of him. Just a faded picture on a newspaper, his name, and some hastily written lines by a reporter.

A quick read-through of the articles told me that the killer was still on the loose.

Just then, the movement of a shadow alerted me that someone was standing by the doorway. I looked up to find my mother watching me, whiskey glass in hand. She swayed on her feet, eventually leaning on the door for support.

"I--know---who-------- killed hiiim..." she said, her words coming out broken and slurred.

"Who did it?" I asked, my interest peaked. How could my mother know something that even the police didn't? If she knew who the killer was, why weren't they in prison?

"You-----need...to-----break-----up......with Jason....first."

"Why?" I asked.

I didn't see what my relationship with Avron had to do with finding out the truth about my father's death. But soon I would know how.