After taking a shower, I got changed and went to the deli that was just around the corner.

  "Hey, Manolo," I greeted the gruff-looking man who was behind the counter. He was a tall black Dominican man, one who if you ignored his resting bitch face, the fact that he was built like a unit, and that he always looked pissed, was quite the friendly guy. He's also the owner of this Deli that I've been coming to since I was a college student about 7 years ago.

  "Aspen, mi hijo, how's it going, boy?" Manolo smiled and looked up from his phone.

  "Life's been lifing, man," I said as I approached the counter, my hand outstretched for a handshake.

  "The usual?" he asked, a smile still on his face as he shook my hand.

  "Yes, sir," I respond.

  "Wey, Salami, dame dos bacon egg cheese, extra bacon and cheese, ketchup and mayo con papas al estilo food shop. (not normal fries, they're much thicker and spicy)" Manolo talked to the man behind the deli, a short Guatemalan man who just loved salami so much that he had been nicknamed after it.

  "Por fin llegó Aspen?" A response came from behind the Deli section.

  "How you been, Aspen?" Manolo asked, a hint of fatherly love in his voice. "I didn't see you come around the past few days. Was getting worried about you."

  "I've been alright, you know I'm a busy man. Work, school, got a lot on my plate." I responded, running my right hand through my hair just for it to get immediately trapped in the tangled mess of curly hair I have.

  "Well, busy is good. But tell me, when do you plan on opening up some space for a girlfriend in that busy schedule of yours?" he asked while pointing a finger at me and moving it in a circular pattern.

  I smiled at his questions and got my hand out of my hair. "You know…"

  I didn't get to finish what I was about to say when Manolo interrupted, "You're a handsome dude, if I had your looks, all the girls would be over me. Their chocolate papi, hehehe," he chuckled at his self-appointed nickname.

  I stared at him, holding back my laughter, "Yeah, you're right, man. I actually got a date for tomorrow."

  "Are you serious?" his face morphed from a smile to a look of shock.

  "Yeah."

  "Well, congratulations, mi hijo!" he walked around the counter and gave me a hug that squeezed the air out of me.

  "I can't breathe," I managed to mutter out.

  "Ah, I'm sorry, I just feel like a proud father or uncle right now," Manolo said, a smile now adorned his face.

  We chatted for a bit more until my food was ready and when I reached into my pockets to pull out my wallet, Manolo stopped me.

  "No need, mijo, today it's on the house."

  "You sure?" I questioned.

  "Yeah, take it as my congratulations on the end of your single life, hehehe," he laughed at his own joke.

  "Well, thank you!" I grabbed my stuff and was about to leave when I heard Manolo talk to me again.

  "Hey, kid, do you like this girl?"

  "Well, of course. I'm infatuated by her, she's perfect!" I say.

  "Is she a good woman?" he asked.

  "From what I can tell, she's very kind and humble, a little shy, but a beautiful soul," I respond, a smile forming on my face as I talk about her.

  "Seems like you've already made up your mind to hold on to her and never let go. You've had your mind set on marrying her from the get-go."

  "That's the plan, Manolo, never date for the hell of it, only for marriage. That's why I've been single for so long, I guess. I've had chances before, but never felt anything like I did when I first saw her," I reply.

  "That's good, you were raised well. Your parents must be proud to see the man they have raised. One last thing mijo, don't break her heart and stick with her through thick and thin. If she's really as good as you describe her to be, that is. Good women are hard to come by, trust me on that."

  I ignored the part about my parents; I never knew either one of them. From what I was told by CPS a few years back, my father was a Green Beret turned mercenary who died in some foreign country before I was born, while my mother died giving birth to me. I couldn't care less about either one of them. Neither side of my biological family wanted anything to do with me, and I just spent the first 16 years of my life bouncing from adoptive home to adoptive home until I entered college well before the age I should've.

  Did my bachelor's in Aerospace engineering in 3 years, then went back to college to do the same for architecture. Thanks to the courses I had taken for engineering, I only needed to take a handful of architectural history and design courses to get my bachelor's in 2 years. Then straight to work at Max's firm. But I do guess they'd be proud.

  As for my values? I never learned any from people, I guess I just built them with how I wanted to be treated. But he didn't need to know any of that.

  "Yeah, I'm sure they are. I'll also make sure to treat her better than she deserves to be treated." I said my piece and made my way out of the Deli and back home to my apartment.

  I swipe my card at the entrance of my building and walk to the security desk.

  It's about 2:30-ish, so the security guard behind the desk should have changed, and Armand should be the one on shift. As I walk over, a short Italian man stands up from behind the desk and walks to greet me, "Armand, how are you doing, my man?"

  "Hey, Mr. Del Santo, I'm doing good, thanks for asking. How about yourself?" Armand asks as he shakes my hand.

  "Doing as great as I ever could. How's the kids and the wife?" I ask him as I take out one of my bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches and hand it to him.

  "Ah, thank you, sir. They're doing good, wife just seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the stove. Bitch's got a problem with something I did," he says as he grabs the sandwich and opens it. "But she won't tell me what the fuck it is I did," he says while taking a bite.

  "Sounds like you need to have a talk with her. Also, maybe try not calling her a bitch, should help," I say.

  "Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. It's just, she's got me by the balls, you know? One day its this, the next is that, then its me, then its something some fucker did at work, and blah blah blah." He takes another bite of his sandwich and says with his mouth full "This is some good shit. Where you buy it?"

  "I got it around the corner, at Manolo's deli," I say, pointing in the direction of the Deli. "It seems like things are stressing her out too, take her out for dinner, on me," I say as I take out my wallet and hand him 2 $100 bills.

  "No, Mr. Del Santo, I can't accept that," he says as he shakes his head.

  "Don't worry about it, man, just take it and take her out. Try to be more patient with her as well," I say as I put the money in his hand.

  "I- Thank you, Mr. Del Santo," he said with a defeated sigh.

  "Don't stress it man, and I've told you before to call me Aspen, no need for the Mr. part, you're much older than me," I say.

  "Sure thing, Mr. Del Santo - I mean, Aspen."

  I shake my head and chuckle while making my way to the elevator.

  I get up to my apartment and make myself a lemonade, before sitting down to eat my food as I browse for a show to watch.

  I stop scrolling when I come across a show called 'Dark Matter' and read its description. "Hmm, this sounds interesting, let's see." I put on the show and eat my food, spending the next 4 hours watching the first season.

  I stand up from my couch and go to my room to get dressed to go to the gym. "Well, it's almost 7, gotta get a workout in today at the very least."

  I spent the next 2 hours at the gym getting in a normal workout, jogging for about 40 minutes, then I did back, shoulders, and triceps, and then left. It was about 9:10 pm by the time I made it to my apartment. I went and got a quick shower before going to my kitchen and cooking myself a quick dinner. Made some white rice with salmon that I just tossed in the air frier after seasoning it. Once I finished cooking, I sat down and watched the news for a bit.

  "Tensions are rising as Russia threatens the United States with nuclear warfare if they keep interfering with their war with Ukraine and keep providing them with weapons."

  "World's going to shit," I say as I take a bite of my dinner.

  "Coming live from Via Carota, East Village, where an unidentified shooter opened fire into the crowd of diners, striking 12 people, leaving 7 dead and 5 injured."

  "Well shit, another shooting, so much for gun control, like criminals give a fuck about it," I say as I stuff my mouth.

  "Witnesses claim that it all started when a man approached a group of diners who were celebrating a birthday. An argument broke out and then one man threw a punch at the one who had approached the group. This prompted the man to take out a gun he had concealed and open fire into the crowd.

  Then someone who was not a part of either party took out his weapon and opened fire on the gunman. This prompted the initial gunman to change targets and open fire on him, striking and unfortunately killing the good samaritan. The good samaritan has been identified as 'Armand Ricci', a security guard and father of 3 who was out on dinner with his wife.

  He was licensed to carry and was just a bystander to this whole ordeal until he decided he needed to intervene to save innocent people from getting hurt. His heroic acts are believed to have stopped more people from dying tonight."

  I dropped my fork as I heard that name. "No fucking way," I say. I started reviewing today's events and thought of the money I had given him. "I'm the cause of this….he's dead because of me," I say, reality dawning on me.

  I turn off the TV and go wash my plate and the rest of the dishes I had dirtied. I then make my way into my room and start playing some Minecraft music with rain as its background and sit down at my desk and start looking over some of the schematics I had made, still a little absent-minded.

  "Fuck me, life really can just end out of nowhere…." I contemplated for a few minutes before finally put my focus on something else. "Let me not think about that anymore…." I say as I grab some tracing paper.

  "Man, if only technology was a little more advanced, some of these things would be viable," I say while pushing everything aside and starting to do some sketching of a mech from an anime I had seen called Iron-Blooded Orphans. I was sketching Barbatos, a pearl white GUNDAM mech that was OP as shit. It had so much potential, too bad a kid was piloting it.

  I started doing another sketch on autopilot, something random. By the time I finished, I realized I had recreated the last thing I had seen from the nightmare I had had the previous night. It was a broken display showing a rock and an unrecognizable figure with light shining through the cracks of the display. "How the hell did I end up making this?"

  I hadn't noticed that time had flown by, and it was now 1 am. 'It would be best to just go to sleep, I have to go to church tomorrow at 10 am.' I stood up from my desk, went out to the living room, and adjusted the thermostat to a cool 59 degrees Fahrenheit. I then got into my bed and knocked out.

  ***

  I woke up feeling unfamiliar with my own body, uncomfortable. Everything was pitch black, but I know my room has a giant window to the right of my bed where the sun shines through every morning. Suffice it to say, I feel very disoriented.

  "What the fuck?" I said, my voice sounding raspy as if I hadn't had a drop of water in days. It also sounded...older?

  "Must still be nighttime," I try to move and reach over with my left hand to my nightstand for my phone, but instead of doing that, a searing pain shoots through me.

  "AAARRRGHH! WHAT THE FUCK?" I screamed in pain, caught off guard by the pain, and wondering what's going on.

  "Wha….what the fuck is…. happening to me…." I ask myself, panting in the process.

  I then see sunlight breaking in through some cracks and suddenly, the scene felt all too familiar.

  "I... is this the dream…no, the nightmare I had? Whe… where am I?"

  Light seemed to finally break through the cracks at the perfect angle that it hit my eyes.

  "i….ot….t," I hear a profound and wise-sounding voice say.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Huh? Who's there?" I call out.

  "It's not time yet," I hear the voice again, clearer this time.

  *Beep Beep Beep Beep* *Beep Beep Beep Beep* *Beep Beep Beep Beep*

  I woke up panting, my alarm ringing. I took a second to look around me and noticed I'm back in my apartment, and once again drenched in sweat. I turn over to my right and reach over for my phone with my left hand, and look at the time. It was 8:30 am.

  "Jesus Christ, that was like a continuation of the nightmare. And the pain," I say as I clench my left hand, "it was, once again, so… real. What the fuck is going on with me?"

  I stood up from my bed and went straight to the bathroom, washing my face before staring at my reflection in the mirror.

  "Jesus!" I exclaimed in surprise because, for a second, I saw what appeared to be another man staring back at me. He bore many similarities to me, except for the fact that this man had a scar running vertically across his left eye, another small scar running horizontally on his upper lip, another scar running diagonally across the right side of his forehead, and the fact that he had some stubble. He still had the same curly brown hair I have running down the sides of his head, but it was all damp and stained as if it had been dropped in blood.

  I reached out to touch the mirror, and when I did, a searing pain came rushing into my mind. I felt as if my brain was being split in two, cell by cell. "AARRGHH…. ARGH… HUFF… HUFF…. ARGH!"

  I found myself losing my balance and reaching for my sink to stabilize myself, only to find my hand slipping on the wet marble vanity as my legs gave out and I fell forward, my head striking the sink.

  "Argh," I grunted, now lying on the floor of my own bathroom.

  I spent a few minutes lying on the ground, my hands clutching my head, praying to God for the pain to go away. By the time it had become manageable, I noticed that the right side of my forehead was hot. I move my hand to it and touch it, a sting spreading from it as I make contact with it. I pulled my hand away from it, and through my blurred eyesight, I noticed the blood on my hand.

  "Fuck…." I mutter as I manage to sit myself up with a cacophony of pained grunts. I felt dizzy and a little disoriented; the morning sunlight shining into my bathroom from my room felt almost too bright. "What… the fuck… is going on with me..."

  I remained sitting for what I guessed to be about 5 minutes before I finally got my bearings. My head still felt like a midget was stabbing it, but it's gone down to just one of those headaches you get where all you feel is the blood pumping through your head. Once I stood up, I looked at myself in the mirror to gauge the damage done to my head. I noticed that the cut on my forehead was in the exact same spot as the man I had seen in the mirror.

  "Well shit, that's definitely going to need stitches…" I said to myself while inspecting the cut.

  I then started thinking about the fact that today was Sunday and I had a date to go to… I mean church to attend. So I hopped into the shower and turnned the knob to make the water warm. I found it uncomfortable and gradually turned the knob to make the water colder until it was almost freezing. I found it rather comforting, but strange considering I always showered in warm water. But my headache was gradually decreasing, so I paid it no mind.

  I was about to step out of the shower when I remembered I hadn't untangled my hair, so I did that quickly… only took me 30 minutes, that's quick in my book. Once I got out, I threw on boxers and a wifebeater, headed to the kitchen, and poured myself a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. I then reach into my fridge and bring out a red top Lactaid milk and pour enough of it into my bowl. I'm not lactose intolerant, I just love the taste of this milk. I finished up and went to brush my teeth before putting on a light blue dress shirt over my beige slacks.

  I grabbed all my needs and looked at myself in the mirror, noticing my cut had coagulated. I got downstairs, went to the parking garage, and by the time I left in my blacked-out Durango, it was 10:07 am.

  "Well, seems like I'm going to be late, might as well just stop by at the ER to see what they tell me about the cut."

  I made my way to the nearest hospital and pulled up to the ER entrance. It was about 10:28 am when I walked in and bumped into a doctor right away.

  "I'm sorry about that," we both say at the same time.

  He then took a look at me and asked, "Do you need any medical attention?" While pointing at my forehead as he continued, "That seems like a nasty cut."

  "Yeah, I uh, I slipped in my bathroom earlier this morning and whacked my head pretty good against my sink," I respond while pointing at my forehead.

  "Well, I'm not doing anything right now, so let me take a look at it real quick." He says as he motions for me to follow him.

  We walk to one of the "rooms", and I sit down. He pulled the curtain around us and started asking me some questions while looking at my wound.

  "Alright, bud, what's your name?" He asked me as he inspected my forehead.

  "Aspen, sir, Aspen Del Santo,"

  "Aspen, huh, neat name, never met an Aspen before. So, you say you got this in your bathroom?"

  "Yeah, I think I was brushing my teeth at the time," I respond.

  "How did it happen?" he asks.

  "I don't really know, I just got like a sudden headache and lost my balance," I say, omitting the other factors such as the vision I had. Don't want to be diagnosed with schizophrenia now.

  "Hmm, well, good news is that this is already coagulated, so no stitches for you, my friend," He says chirpily as he puts his little flashlight in his coat.

  "And the bad news?" I ask.

  "Well, bad news is, it'll leave a nice scar. Start thinking of a story to tell the ladies, other than 'I slipped in my bathroom' hehehehe," he chuckled a bit.

  "Yeah, thanks," I thanked the man and stood up to leave.

  "Wait a second, let me put a gauze on that at least, so it doesn't get infected. Also, I think you might have a concussion. Do you have a headache, feel disoriented, dizzy?" The doctor said as he stopped me from leaving.

  "I, uh, yeah, but only for a little while after hitting my head. It's gone away now." I reply to his questions.

  "Alright, give me a second, I'll be right back with you." The doctor said as he stood up and walked out of the "room" we were in. He returned about a minute later with a pill bottle in his hand, 2 little packs of pills, and a gauze pad.

  "This," he said as he shook the pill bottle, "is Ibuprofen, pretty much Advil. And these," he then handed me one of the little packets, "are Tylenol. Drink the Tylenol right now, and then drink the other packet in about 12 hours, give or take an hour. After that, take the Ibuprofen, 2 pills at a time, every 8 hours. You should be alright in about a week. Make sure you rest too, crucial to healing concussions." He then started to open the gauze pad and said to me, "Now let me put this on your forehead real quick and you can be on your way."

  "Alright, thanks, doctor…" I started, but trailed off as the man never introduced himself to me.

  "Ah, I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Dr. Cabrera, Ivan Cabrera, at your service. Well, I won't keep you much longer. Also, no need for you to show your medical insurance, all the things I used are worth about $15 in total, they're not even going to notice it's gone." Dr. Cabrera responded after introducing himself.

  "Alright, well then, thanks, Dr. Cabrera, have a good day," I reached out to shake the man's hand.

  "You too," he replies while shaking my hand.

  I then left the ER and got in my Durango. Turning it on, I look at the clock, which now reads 10:42. "That didn't take as long as I thought it would."

  I then took off, but not too fast so my tires don't squeal and leave burnt rubber on the cement.

  While I was weaving through traffic, I got a phone call from Ernesto.

  "Hey man, didn't see you today at the Bible study, you're still coming to the service, right?"

  "Hey Ernesto, yeah, I'm on my way right now, I just had a little incident," I said while I weaved through the highway traffic of NYC at 80 miles per hour, quite fast compared to the limit of 50.

  "Ok, I was just making sure, because Autumn is here and she was asking if you were coming." He paused for a second, "By the way, you said you had a little incident. What happened?"

  "Ah, I just slipped in my bathroom," I said, keeping my response brief.

  "*chuckles* I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh. You alright?"

  "Laugh all you want, man. Yeah, I'm alright, pretty banged up though, you'll see when I get to church," I said to him with a smile on my face.

  "Alright, bro, just glad you're ok. I'll see you here then," he said.

  "See you there-- wait, man, can you get me a pure black coffee or something?"

  "Pure black coffee? Since when do you drink pure black coffee?" Ernesto replied with a hint of shock in his voice.

  "I don't know, man, I just have a certain craving for it right now," I said, not too sure myself on why I want pure black coffee with no sugar, I'm more of a coffee with milk or creamer type of guy.

  "Alright, man, I got you. I'll see you here,"

  "See you in a few," I said as I hung up the phone.

  I then take the exit of the highway and I'm only about 5 minutes from the church when all of a sudden, "Whoop Whoop."

  "Fucking great, what a wonderful morning I'm having today," I said while looking through my rearview mirror where the flashes of blue and red lights on top of a 2022 white Ford Explorer with blue and green stripes on its side with "NYPD" in bold letters reflected.

  I pulled over into a gas station and lowered all my windows. The cop sat in his SUV for about 2 minutes doing what I can only guess to be running my plates and seeing if my Durango had been reported stolen or if the owner of the vehicle had any outstanding warrants, or whatever it is that cops do in their patrol units before stepping out and walking towards you.

  "Good morning, officer," I said as he approached me, his left hand resting on his pistol and his right hand holding a clipboard.

  "Good morning, Mr. Del Santo," He replies, his tensions seemingly vanishing. "Do you have any idea why I'm pulling you over?" He asked.

  "Not a clue," I respond.

  "Well, I've been behind you for a while now as you weaved in between cars at a high rate of speed, definitely exceeding the lawful limit." He stated the obvious reason for the stop and then continued with another question: "Do you have any weapons in the vehicle? Guns? Knives? Bats?"

  "No, sir, no weapons of any kind, except for a plastic butter knife I keep in my center console," I replied in a joking manner, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't.

  "Alright, go ahead and hand me your license, registration, and proof of insurance," he orders.

  I obliged and searched for all the requested information. As I'm about to hand it to him, gunshots ring out from the red light ahead of me, and a white SUV squeals its tires as its windows start rolling up. This was obviously a drive-by shooting, a common occurrence between gangs in a city where getting a gun is supposed to be harder than getting a loan for a million dollars with a 350 credit score. The cop immediately looked at me and said, "Today is your lucky day, Mr. Del Santo, it would've been one hell of a ticket." He then sprints towards his patrol unit while speaking on his radio. "10-71, drive-by, suspect vehicle is a white SUV heading Eastbound on…."

  He got in his patrol unit and squealed his tires as his sirens blared, causing cars to get out of the way. "Well, the only time I'm glad a shooting has happened."

  I then put my Durango into drive and made my way to the church, arriving at 11:05, just 5 minutes late, but knowing the congregation, nothing had started yet. I park in the Church's designated parking area and walked towards the building, only to see my friend Ernesto coming from the street with a cup of coffee in his hand.

  We make eye contact and start walking towards each other. As I get closer to him he looks up at my forehead and the gauze wrapped around it and deadpans at me. "An incident, you say?"

  "Yup, an incident indeed, thanks for the coffee," I reply as I take the coffee from his hands and give him a hug with my free hand. "It's been one hell of a crazy morning, man."

  "Well, you have a lot of explaining to do after service," he says to me as we walk towards the entrance.

  "Don't worry, man, I'll tell you all about it after…" I start only to trail off as I see Autumn, who is coincidentally wearing a beige dress with a light blue hair ribbon adorning her beautiful curly hair.