Niko’s Eye

Chapter 72.

Aisha.

She felt weird...

Did she want a fresh start?

A fresh start is the weirdest thing, as if everything that happened to this point in time, was a prequel to what comes next. It feels as if that book closed and a new one opened, appearing one word after the other, yet slowly, as if they have a calmness the first volume never possessed. And they come as a natural music, as drops of rain upon a spreading leaf, chaotic and rhythmic all at once. And as these words form, in deepest blue dancing over a white page, they are as dance steps, my own motions, deliberate and intuitive, yet also guided by the ever present music. And this is the way of everything, the chaos, the synchrony, the guidance... and everything with a sprinkle of destiny. So long as I try my best, I am always where I am supposed to be, and there’s a serenity in that, to always be a part of the best story I am able to write, to be a child of this universe, weaved into the fabric of creation.

She glanced around her and thought of how difficult the coming years would be.

The prison cell was barely six feet by four. The walls were the same thick grey stone as the dwellings of the region, but instead of a wide window with a flower box there was a mean barred opening with thick metal bars and no glass. In the summer the fresher air was a relief, helping to alleviate the stench of festering sewage but in the cold seasons it let in a wicked draft and reduced the temperature to near freezing. It was no brighter inside than the gathering gloom of dusk, even at midday. The bed was a plank of wood on legs, there was no mattress, no cushioning and only one thin blanket. It was either suffocatingly quiet or pierced with the screams of tortured inmates.

These walls cannot hold a prayer, nor a spirit. And so I call to the universe, I promise all the good things I will do when I am released, and at first it appears that nothing happens. Yet when she does, it’ll be some random occurrence of happenstance, something I could never predict. So, though this wait is tough and I long for the sunshine and the grass, the passing is a little easier for knowing I have my invisible friend.

"Baby, come as close as you can to the prison walls and whisper words of affection into the tiny cracks. I can forgo the golden beams of light, I can suffer nothing but bleak walls for company, but love I cannot live without. Tell me of the days to come, the ones where we walk in meadows, a feast of colour for eyes that have seen nothing but grey for so long. Tell me of how we walk hand in hand to the river and wash our weary feet. Tell me of how we will feel the warm light of the sun on our skin and hug like our love is eternal. Tell me of how we’ll watch the fish make their way through cool waters before heading home to rest in each other’s arms, always knowing a fresh dawn will come."

Isis looked at Aisha with a dismantled grunt, before getting up and leaving.

The time I’ve spent in here must be making me go crazy.

Prison cells had become simple beds with cranium caps and electrodes. Once under the influence of the simulator the prisoner was sent to relive their crimes from the perspective of the victim, over and over. Everything was simulated perfectly, right down to the correct levels of pain. The prisoner could change gender and age in the simulation, not know who they were before... Sometimes waking them up killed them outright, the shock of who they really were, the killer rather than the killed, the rapist rather than the raped. But if they survived they were changed...

Sergio.

If Aisha blabs about everything to Alejandro and Isis, I’m f****d. I could lose my wife, my family, and even Zainab, indefinitely.

Masking fear can be good or bad. It’s all situational, right? If you defend yourself or others it’s good, if you cut yourself off from yourself or others, deny your vulnerable self the chance to breathe and cry, then it’s bad. That’s self wisdom, that’s emotional intelligence. Masking fear was a survival essential where I’m from. So much so that I don’t feel fear as others apparently do. I process it differently, route it through my prefrontal cortex instead of letting the more primitive brain do the choice-making. Some things we are born with, others are epigenetic alterations, adjustments I guess. So I can be damaged by fear. It can cause me harm to my brain and body the same as others. The difference is, it shuts them down, it makes me more alert, more adept and creative problem solving.

Sergio was never one to panic. As he paced the room of his Croatian hotel, braving the storm outside of the streets of Dubrovnik. He pulled up the zipper of his Pullbear jacket after taking out a small container of whiskey and taking a healthy chug out of it.

Rãmirez. How could I forget? We had a deal right?

Alejandro.

They had been on the road back to their hotel for hours, and Isis had been staring out of the window for the whole ride.

Alejandro pressed a button for the partition of the limousine that they were riding in. After he was satisfies that it was shut, he turned his attention back to Isis.

"Wanna talk about it?"

All he got in return was silence.

They sat knee deep in silence. The faucet of the limousine’s alcohol dispenser was dripping into the a glass, each one reverberating around the vehicle like a cymbal, yet no-one blinked or moved to stop or close it. Outside there was no traffic or bird song, by then it must have been midnight- the time in which today becomes tomorrow.

He looked at her boob tube top and ignored the bulge inbetween his pants.

It’s normal, it doesn’t mean you’re evil. He reminded himself.

His eyes moved to her jewellery.

Isis knew herself well, if she had a hundred items of jewelry she’d probably wear her favourite three every day and never the rest. So she chose one nice pair of earrings, one necklace with a locket and one pretty bracelet in platinum. They were classy, Celtic inspired and fine craftsmanship.

When you are the kind of human that Isis is, jewellery makes little difference. How can you put a bow on perfection? Her presence was one of elevating sprit and empathy, the kind of person who glows as a warm hearth in winter. I guess that’s why folks gathered round her. The most I ever saw her wear was antique earrings and a locket, perhaps a bangle or three if she was getting dressed up. She looked good too, I’m not saying other wise, only that it was her soul that I was in love with.

He decided to look at the beautiful scenery outside of the window because the more he concentrated on Isis, the more he wanted her.

The kelp forests are every child’s Atlantis dream, the soft green wands that wave in the blue, the silk of the ocean, the lungs of creation.

Amid the chorus of the trees that sing notes of brightest green, is a pebbled mountain path. As they drove up to their resting place, he heard Isis sigh.

Nestled in the woodland, as humble as any rock face in these parts, was a mansion. It’s windows were as shy eyes, large to welcome any ray of sun. The rock walls belonged right where it was, as if perchance it had grown up right from that hallowed ground. It was as if it had been called into existence to protect those who came to dwell within, to quell the elements and allow a heat to build from hearths into the inhaled woodland air. The mansion stood there as if the surrounding nature had embraced it, that the flora flowed within it as much as around it. For the architect had loved the trees so much that there was a mighty oak in the centre, centuries old, and the great house had been built around it. The mansion was all concrete and tall glass windows that gave a view of the mountains, a chance to relax and take in the changing of the seasons from the comfort of an easy chair.

"Of course, I should have known that we weren’t going to a hotel, but rather to one of your many abodes." She said smilingly. "It makes me want to wear a midi dress."

"I say get a maxi dress for the dance, a formal dress, and tall shoes. Then if you need to you can get it hemmed. I know you love a good midi dress and there is real cuteness to that, but for this honey, I think you should go maxi."

They laughed their way into the mansion.