The books numerous pages were filled with dragons and princes princesses, knights and dragons. Everything made sense, there was a purpose to everything. None of it existed in the real world.
Tim stood up and slammed the books cover back onto the books. I live in the real world. There is no magic. The tooth fairy was ripped from him at the age of 4, his brother walked in and told him. Santa at 5, when he caught his Dad placing a present from Santa under the tree. The Easter bunny was the next. A rabbit was torn to shreds by the neighbors dog. When Tim brought the rabbit home and explained that the Easter bunny needed to go to the hospital, his alcoholic grandma picked the half dead rabbit up and threw it into the stew.
That night they had rabbit stew. It was only the next morning after that his grandma explained that it wasn’t the Easter bunny. That the Easter bunny didn’t exist. The final one was God.
His mother had cancer, and he prayed every day. Yet, his mother still died. Tim lived the next few years homeless because his Dad killed himself a week after his mother’s death. Tim was in effect all alone as his Grandma drank herself to death a year prior.
He worked at a restaurant and became a manager. It was all on his own back. This cruel world couldn’t take that from him. Yet, it was a world without magic. It was a dull world. He no longer wished to live in it.
Tim eyed the sleeping pills on the edge of the table and picked them up. He slowly walked over to the TV and his permanently dented chair and sunk down into it. His remote was on his right. He grabbed it with his free hand and the TV turned on. The news matriculated on the screen. Murder, rape, and scams. As he was about to turn off the TV, something flashed on. “Jimmy Jones, was abducted by his father. A ransom note was left to his mother claiming if the corvette wasn’t signed to his name, the boy would die.”
“I’ve had it with this world, it’s all gone to shit!!!” Tim yelled and opened the bottle of pills. A pill slid down his throat and then another. He dropped the bottle and it shattered at his feet. Glass exploded in every direction.
“Fuck!!!”
Tim reached down to pick up the pills when his foot slammed into the table. The table hit the bookshelf and a large book dropped square on his head.
He was out like a light.
“Tim,” a deep voice said.
His eyes struggled to open.
“Tim,” the voice said again.
He was in his lazy boy chair and a bible was in his lap.
He looked up to see a glowing figure.
“Do you want to fix the world?”
Tim stood up, he was still exhausted, definitely not dreaming.
He looked up again, the being wore a white tuxedo. His face wasn’t visible. He wore a white masquerade mask over his eyes and nose. His skin was pale white.
“Are you an angel or the devil?” Tim asked.
“Neither,” the being replied.
“I am you after you die. You made a pact. Don’t you remember?” the being said.
“A pact?” Tim asked.
The being laughed three deep stomach filled bellows.
“Remember,” he commanded.
Tim’s mind shot to the moment when he prayed, “I will do your bidding for all of eternity Lord, just please save my mom,” he’d said.
“So what?” Tim asked.
“Your mom lived a few extra months because of the aneurism you helped her avoid,” the future Tim said.
“She still died,” The present Tim retorted.
The older Tim sighed, “Every man and woman dies, only our spirits are forever.”
Tim sunk down into his chair again.
“Why are you here?” Tim asked.
“To get you started,” old Tim replied.
“On what?” Tim sneered as he said it.
“Saving that kid on the news,” Tim replied to his younger self.
“How am I supposed to do that?” Tim asked.
“Pray for guidance,” he responded to himself.
Tim closed his eyes and did as he had told himself.
“Done!” Tim said.
“Good,” the older Tim said and he jumped out the window.
“What the hell?” Tim said as he lurched his head out the window to peer down.
There was no shattered body on the streets below, instead his future self was holding onto the window sill with one hand.
Tim grabbed the hand of his older self and then gasped. His older self pulled him out of the window. He fell a good ten feet onto a decorative panel. As he landed on the stone panel at the corner of the building he noticed his older self was gone.
Tim smirked, I did want to die anyway. I just envisioned a peaceful death as the way to go.
He stood up and brushed off the bits of dirt that had accumulated on his shoulders. His ribs felt like one of them was broken. He walked up to a window and knocked.
“Hello, could you let me in? I think I broke a rib from the fall,” Tim said.
No one seemed to be there to answer his call for help.
Tim closed his eyes again, “Lord please guide me out of this mess,” he said and the window opened.
“Hello,” a young boy said.
“Hi, can you let me in?” Tim asked.
The boy smiled, “Of course, want to come to Disney world with my Dad and I?”
The boy looked familiar. Then it hit him.
“Are you Jimmy Jones?” Tim asked.
The boy put his arm to his chest and bowed, “The one and only,” he said.
“We have to get you out of here right now,” Tim said grabbing Jimmies arm and headed to the entrance of his bedroom.
“Dad!” Jimmy cried and the sound of a door slamming into the wall could be heard from the other side of the door Tim was about to enter into.
Tim backed behind the door and the door burst open hitting him and bouncing off. The father’s back was to him.
“I told you to be quiet!” The father yelled.
“But Dad!” Jimmy said.
“But nothing, where is George?” asked his father.
“Nowhere!” Jimmy said.
His father raised his hand in the air to threaten his son.
“Where is your fucking stuffed toy!” Mr. Jones yelled as Tim’s thumbs buried themselves into his eyes.
“GAHHHHHHHHHH!” yelled Mr. Jones as he clawed at his face and Tim tackled him against the window. Mr. Jones fell forward out of the window and out of sight. The screeching of car wheels, a scream and a lot of honking could be heard from below. Tim didn’t want to look.
His hands raced down into his pocket to his cell phone. The shocked Jimmy had no idea what his father had intended to do to him. He sat there with his eyes wide open motionless, his life would never be the same. He would live though.
The cellphone was out and his fingers hit the buttons, “911, What’s your emergency?” asked the dispatcher.
“I am here with Jimmy Jones, his father just fell out the window,” Tim said as he dropped the phone to the ground and dropped to his knees in prayer.
“Thank you,” he said aloud as a helicopter he recognized as a dragon IV shone its spot light into the window and onto him.
Tim thought, Dragons do exist after all.