Journal Entry 001

Journal Entry 001

My father was a scientist, he would work on an island south of our town. Every time he came home he smelled of smoke and disinfectant. He told me he was doing work for all of us, said he was making waves in the bioengineering community. I was 6 at the time so I never really understood what he meant until I got older. As the days went on he seemed to get…paranoid and fatigued. He kept growing distant from me and mom. That's when the phone calls started…every night, at least when he was home, at precisely 7:00 someone would call…thinking back it might have been my uncle. He did always seem to talk in riddles. When Dad would answer he spoke quietly but frantically as if he was hiding something. My father had written everything in journals, every day he took them to and from work. I wonder if they're still around the labs? When Dad would talk to me before bed he started asking me very strange questions like "Son, have you ever wondered what it feels like to be God?" or "Will you promise me that you'll take care of your mom when I'm not here?" At the time I just thought he meant while he was at work, but he knew something more.

I'm sorry, I should explain…

My uncle wasn't really my uncle but a fellow scientist, and my father's best friend. He was a frequenter at the house, so I just called him my uncle, he never had children of his own. He focused all of his energy on science and business.

My father got increasingly paranoid and started lashing out at my mom, this was just weeks before his death. I can't discern if it was a dream or if I actually heard it, but, one night I woke up to what I thought was the sound of my father sobbing and talking about how he felt like his mind was being probed by something he couldn't see. He said that it was watching every moment, and that he heard a voice in the back of his mind telling him about his life and his family and that he was afraid that some of the people who protest his work had found a way into his head. My father was almost intelligible at this point but I made out something about genetically forced evolution. Then, though I was shaken, I forced myself to sleep.

The last week was the worst. My father was nearly stoic. The only time he spoke was to the voice on the phone. He went to work that tuesday and that was the last we saw of him. I don't know the events leading up to it but I know when we found out. I was watching TV and Mom was in the living room. Almost at the same instance the phone rang and a bulletin came on the TV. I heard glass shatter and I turned around but as I was headed out the door to see what happened I heard it.

"There was an explosion at Cinnabar Labs today, reports are still coming in but it seems there is one survivor, Blaine, of the Cinnabar gym. An object was seen flying away from the building seconds before the explosion."

My uncle was the only one left...