Tell A Tale in 500 Words
Recalled to Life By James Bollen
I was an empty shell. Sickness filled my head turning my senses into vague grasping. The edges of my vision were unclear, but I could still make out the living room where I was standing only moments before.
Are you ok?
They helped me up, taking an arm each.
My father was dead, at least I thought he was. I was organising his funeral when the men showed up. At times like this you expect the unexpected, but you don’t expect to be told the funeral is off. He was a government agent, my father, and a political prisoner. We had been working on his release for the best part of two decades but he was old and frail and hope had begun to fade. I thought I was ready for anything.
We can take you to him.
We drove north for hours on route to a military base in the Scottish highlands. I tried to get some answers, something to go on, but I got nothing except for the official line. They said they were agents of change, whatever that meant, and that my father had been recalled to life. Perhaps I was being naïve, but after two decade of fighting I had to know what they meant. We arrived at a facility in the hills and went through a series of elevators and corridors that took us deeper and deeper underground. The men walked in front, pressing their thumbs to the security doors.
It’s the first time in human history it’s ever been done successfully, the scientist said, your father is the first one to make it.
Being honest I didn’t believe him, or any of it. I had come out of a sense of confusion, or fanciful idea of what was possible. Perhaps I had just been searching for him for so long that fantasy had become probable. And I was scared, scared of where I had come and with whom. Then I saw his face, heard his familiar voice.
My lovely daughter. Look at you.
I began to cry.
How can this be?
it's revolution Lucia. We can change the world.
I was overwhelmed. Trying to make sense of this hyper-reality. And what he was saying made no sense either. It was my father but there was something different about him, something artificial, something not entirely human.
it’s what we have to give up, Lucia, for the greater good. For the good of all humanity.
I tried to resist but I couldn’t move. My feet were sealed to the ground. The men were standing behind the glass, watching, their faces still expressionless. A tube came down from above. I screamed. The edges of my vision became unclear, and sickness started.
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