The First

EPISODE ONE: REALITY SHIFT

The Prologue

“That’s what I remember: the eyes. It’s always the eyes that scar you the most, and for every soul I feel them watching me. Waiting. I’m yet to work out what they’re waiting for, though.

"When I shift, I become the person, but it still feels alien to me, as if I’m an outsider to my own body. It started with shifting at least, but now I can’t tell the difference, whether I look like myself or not. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be myself.”

He’s only sitting a few inches from me, but when our eyes meet it feels like miles. Though the wind is strong, I can’t feel it. It’s passing through me as if I’m intangible, but his unwavering focus confirms my presence.

“Do you want to be yourself?” I edge closer to him. His jaw clenches – the glow of the streetlight reveals it – but I find his hand and cup it.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

“Because I know you won’t hurt me.”

He pauses, and almost curls his lips, but he turns back to the sea. His face is vacant again, like he’s waiting for me to say something. But I’ve said all I need to.

“Take it then, if you’re so sure.”

He doesn’t move, or even glance at me from the corner of his eye, but I know what he means. A desire floods me suddenly, drowning my good sense, and I find myself gravitating towards his neck. I’m slow, but assured, and without once looking away from him I find the clasp of his locket.

My heart beats faster.

I unhook it, but pause. He still hasn’t moved, not even his hands, and he’s rigid. This close I can hear his breath, which has sped up despite the ease in his face. He’s trying to hide it, but it's too obvious.

“Why have you asked me to do this?” I re-hook the clasp, but I don’t pull back. My hands fall to his shoulders, which have relaxed.

“To see if you’ll do it." He angles his face to me. His eyes are intense, but also soft. Wounded.

“But you’re afraid.”

“That’s why you have to do it.”

Our noses are millimetres from each other, and yet I feel calm. Returning my fingers to his necklace I find the clasp, unhook it, and lower the locket to his palm. He clutches it, and looks down, staring at the black and white photograph which the locket holds inside. A child, with his parents.

“This boy had a family. That’s why I kept it.” He looks back at me, and reaches for my hand. Unblinking. “This is yours now.”

Gazing down I examine the photograph, which he places in my palm. The family are wearing very old attire, suggestive of nineteenth century. The boy in the middle is around eight, and his smile is wide. My smile is too.

“Thank you,” I mouth, as I look up. But I don’t see him anymore. Just a light, that glitters…shimmering within his clothes.