Category : Stories

Sub Category : YoungAdult

10 Years Ago


    “Edgard Bettancourt, please step forward.”
    Edgard’s long, silver hair covered his back to his rear end. His black irises sent an uneasy chill at the elderly man who called his name. The man, however, did not show fear toward the teenage boy and he shook off the uneasy feeling.

    “What room,  old man?”

    “Room four.” The elder waited for Edgard to touch the doorknob, speaking as kindly as he could. “I would suggest you go in with a positive attitude. Otherwise, you will be sorry.”
    “Is that a threat?”
    “Not at all. I-”
    “Do you know who my mother is?”
    The man closed his book softly and set it on a nearby table. He walked over to Edgard and nodded. “I know very well who your mother is. I also know who your father is and what he has done. I know he is the reason you are here. Having the unfortunate burden of having a sorry excuse as a father is tough. Though not an excuse.”

    “Excuse me?” Edgard turned and faced the man. His fists clenched tight enough that his knuckles were pale.

    “An excuse. Your father is a bad man and you know this. It is no reason to walk around feeling angry at the world. It is no reason you cannot defend your name and change how people view you Bettancourts.”

    “Oh yeah? How do they view us? We’re already royalty.”
    “True, but that is not all you have to offer. I know first hand that your mother is a fair woman. A woman of chance. Due to your father’s inconsistency in truths and his blatant disregard for anyone but himself, your mother’s image is skewed.”

    Edgard stayed silent for a moment as he thought about his mother. He hadn’t seen her in a year since being locked in a draft. Today was the day he was to be freed and gather revenge for his father. How? Even he wasn’t sure.

    Snapping back into the present and looking at the old man, his fists loosened up.

    “Your mother deserves to be viewed in light, not be held by the shadow of a man she once sought after.”

    Keeping quiet, the teenager walked into the dimly lit room. Twelve candle fires danced around the boy and his eyes lit up in both fear and amazement. “Holy…”

    “Do not place thy Lord’s name in vain, young man. He has done you a great favor today.”

    “It doesn’t feel like your Lord gives a crap about anyone but me. How did you get those candles to float? Some sort of witch’s spell?” He joked, but the three people in front of him didn’t seem to find him funny. He rolled his eyes and looked at them. “I’m supposed to get my discharge papers. I’m ready to leave.”

    A young woman stood straight up and gave a quarter of a bow. Her hair was short, brunette and unlike the others she wore much revealing clothing. Her skirt was a solid black knee-high, box pleated skirt. This matched her navy blue tube top and black belt around her waist.

    It was an unusual attire for a woman and Edgard started to feel uncomfortable. Embarrassed, even.
    “For the record, please state your full name, your age, and the name of your parents.”

    “I… uh…” He looked away. “My name is Edgardton Galileo Bettancourt. I am nineteen years old. My mother is Hilda Zinnia Bettancourt and my father is Arnold Vincent Bettancourt.”

    “Thank you.” The strange young woman sat back down and a man with a deep but raspy voice took a stand.

    “Mr. Bettancourt, why have you been called here? Do you know?”
    “Sure. My father abandoned his duties in the draft and I was forced to take his place. He’s an idiot, but I don’t find this fa-”

    “Only answer the questions asked, Mr. Bettancourt.” The man cleared his throat and adjusted his black poncho-like robe. “Do you know what your father’s duties are?”

“As I just said, he was drafted into war. Something honorable that he couldn’t do.” Edgard’s face grew a slight red.

    “Unfortunately, that is not the truth.”

    “Bullshit. His war buddies tell me all the time how they would kill him for doing so.”

    “Are you unaware of who you truly are? Has your mother kept you in the dark about it all?”

    “What?” The look of frustration could be seen in his face. “My mother has done nothing but protect me this entire time. She’s the reason I didn’t follow in my father’s footsteps.”

    “Is she?” The man looked to his right and to the only other robed person that hadn’t spoken. He took a seat and that person stood up.
    “Tell me, what is it you know about your mother? Your father? What do they look like?”

    Edgard laughed. “Are you serious? You think I don’t know my own parents? They…” His smile faded. Only faint memories were in his mind but they were unclear. He looked around for a moment, another small laugh escaping his nervous lips. “I know who my parents are. I just…”

    “You don’t remember.” The soft, familiar voice spoke to him. “You were never in a draft.”

    He laughed again, attempting to prove that he was, his mind kept drawing blank memories. He’d remember only words, not the actual events that took place.

    “I…”

    “Edgar, have you ever heard of the Animital Effect?”
    “What?”

    “In 1476, a man, about your age, was trapped in a time loop of three years. As he realized he could leave his future self notes, he began working on a machine to stop the loop. For him, it felt like a lifetime of work while the world outside kept moving forward and changing.”

    “I’m confused. How is this relevant to my situation? I’ve got amnesia or something!” The raising of his voice caused a candle to fall from its floating position. He shook his head, believing the candles were held by strings.

    “You do not have amnesia. You are in a time loop. Every time you try to do something, you only create memories for yourself. Every time you use that machine. Except this time, you can’t recreate your machine.”
[Continued in next passage]