There I was, sitting on a bench, in the Ezequiel Zamora Park, which many will remember as El Calvario, a small natural lung, that survives within a noisy and polluted city and serves as a resting place full of green landscapes. This hill evokes freshness and relief, with a pleasant climate, a world apart, where many come to de-stress by meditating, walking, running, jogging, and even walking their pets.
The sun caressed my skin. A sudden breeze brought me back to reality; I didn't know how long I had been sitting, time was no longer relevant. I had lost count of how many alternate realities of my own were swarming around me trying to find a solution. One would think that having a time machine, the most important thing would be to profit from it, become a millionaire; perhaps, meet great historical figures, or avoid vast tragedies that had occurred.
But I became obsessed with helping John, the best friend I'd had since school. He had lost his sanity when his relationship of over 5 years had ended drastically and for no apparent reason. After that he fell into a downward spiral that led to his worst moments of psychosis, ending up in a psychiatric facility with no chance of improvement. I don't know whether to call what John felt for Martha, love, but I was sure of one thing, some relationships can destroy a life without a logical explanation.
And there I was, watching the precise moment when his heart was broken. I was aware that in love relationships, both parties are to blame, feelings deteriorate over time, and like plants, if they are not watered daily, they soon wither and die irremediably.
I grew tired of resolving every moment that their relationship decayed. Hundreds of times I turned back the clock to rectify their deterioration, but for some reason, the relationship always became toxic. So I decided to change the paradigm, instead of solving the problem, it would be best to prevent their relationship from being born. So, like an unscrupulous god, I took my time travel device and risked erasing 5 years of emotional instability from existence. I went back to exactly the moment when the two met for the first time.
John was in an old bookstore, looking for a rare edition of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's 100 Years of Solitude. Coincidentally, Martha was also a lover of reading and was in search of another masterpiece. I slipped out before she reached the bookstore and without anyone seeing me, I flipped the open sign hanging on the glass door; she bumped into the door distractedly and looked me in the eye, with a smile I motioned for her to see the sign hanging and pointed to my bare wrist indicating that I would open after a while. She understood instantly and with a forced smile, she said goodbye, gesturing that she would be back later. I was grateful not to have to explain myself.
"Ana, is that you?" John commented in surprise. Nearly knocking me off my feet, I hurriedly turned around.
"Is something wrong with you? You look nervous and terrible, your eyes denote extreme tiredness, are they giving you a hard time at IVIC?", he said while his soft hands caressed my face.
I closed my eyes for a moment, I had forgotten the long nights spent working on my thesis at the scientific research center.
"Come, I'll buy you a coffee," he proposed kindly.
There was something I could not avoid when using the time machine, the passage of my own time. I had aged without realizing it.
Fortunately, it was the perfect excuse to get John away from the place and prevent, once and for all, his meeting with Martha.
We spent a pleasant time in a small coffee shop. It was comforting to enjoy his charismatic character again, to forget his erratic and illogical behavior, an era that would never happen.
But my hopes were short-lived. For some reason, both their encounters and the outcome of their relationship were inevitable. No matter how hard I tried to keep them apart, circumstances kept pulling them together, like a pair of magnets, their lives kept drawing them together to fulfill a tragic destiny. Eventually, I gave up. It was obvious that some events could not be erased from existence. I decided to call them turning points. I remembered the story by H.G. Wells, where the character could never save the love of his life, no matter how hard he tried.
In desperation, I fast-forwarded time as far as I could. I came across a starving, somewhat emaciated body huddled in the darkest corner of a small room with barely a tiny bed and a barred window that let in a little light.
"Are you a ghost?" he asked
It was then that he said something I didn't know
"You come to judge me for what I did?"
I had no idea what he was referring to.
"I must confess that it was the most life-giving experience of my life. I had never felt so much excitement, a rush of adrenaline unmatched by any other. To feel her life slipping through my fingers was empowering. Life is more fragile than it seems. Then, you get swept up in the sense of guilt, and regret, and like an addict, you fall back into craving that feeling. I still miss those last years in college."
I picked up the time travel device and looked up the era he was referencing. My eyes were horrified as I corroborated what I did not wish to believe. Indeed, my best friend, John, was a murderer. A random girl was losing her chance to move on with her life. Unfortunately, no one ever found the killer and John was never discovered.
Thankfully, Martha appeared in his life and changed everything, so I thought.
I turned my back on John and disappeared.
I decided to observe Martha's fate. After the breakup, she focused on her studies and became an eminent doctor. Her influence and knowledge in her area of expertise would go on to save thousands of lives.
My scientific nature had blinded me to the possibility of the law of cause and effect, Karma. It was hard to fight my skepticism, but it was obvious that a bad deed led to a cosmic retribution of the same kind.
However, the question remained in the air: Should I save the girl who had perished at the hands of my best friend?
Thanks for coming by
