Tik Tok....Where's Jonnie?

Short Story Writing Competition Submission, January 2025. This story was not the one I intended to write. It came from somewhere very unexpected! Make of it, what you will.

“Thank God you’re here!”

She was breathless. He knew she had descended the three storeys quickly, to pull open the heavy wooden door of the grand old Maison de Maitre she had been renting over the winter. He braced himself for the affectionate onslaught of her Egyptian rescue dog, Jonnie but as he shuffled into the cold of the foyer, she was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Jonnie?”

“She’s gone. They took her.” Matter of fact, emotionless, resigned.

“What do you mean, they took her? Who took her?”

She was scaring him now.

It was pure luck, he had been just around the corner when she called, urging him to come immediately. She said she was in trouble and there was something she needed him to know before it was too late. Click. She had hung up.

She motioned for him to follow her upstairs. Her jarring behaviour and the listless tone of her voice, her usually bright eyes, noticeably deadened, even in the half light. Her energy was completely different and it forced him into silence.

He followed her to the Grand Salon and was assailed with the cold, once again as he entered. He noticed a bottle of wine on the table. Opened and half empty. Next to it an unopened bottle of vodka. His heart sank. She had relapsed. Nearly seven years of continuous sobriety and something had happened to cause this vibrant, creative, energetic woman to return to her addiction.

“Sit down. Tick, Tock. We don’t have much time. Half an hour – tops – before I am away with the fairies again. I am an alcoholic. Once I start, I don’t know when I might stop again, if ever.”

Liza had become what he counted as a good friend in the six months or so they had known each other. They had an immediate and easy connection and casual observers thought they had known each other for years. Their conversations had depth and breadth. They challenged each other’s perspectives on addiction, spirituality, existentialism, history, politics, philosophy and they were both figuring out how to rebuild their lives.

Crashing financial losses, business failures, abusive relationships and struggle had coloured their recent pasts and they had bonded easily as Liza had found herself drawn into the expat community who embraced this unusual nomad, her challenges and her goofy street dog.

She was a writer. It hadn’t been her career. She was a writer nonetheless. He was enjoying reading her unpublished works and her enthusiastic discussion around her plotlines and future projects. Only this morning she had been on the phone, outlining a dystopian world that reasoned the human struggle to escape from a false reality. He told her to stop talking about it and to write it.

It had made wonderful and terrifying sense in the way she presented it. He could see how it helped her to find meaning in her existence and in the battles and blessings of hers and others human experience.

“We were walking in the pines. Way up in the hills. I was coming back to start writing as it was getting dark. I turned around and she was gone.”

“I shouted. I searched and I know that she is gone. I’m too close to the truth. I don’t even think it’s safe for you to be here.”

They were seated now. He sat uncomfortably on the comfortable sofa. She took a swig from the bottle of wine and settled back in her Ercol rocking chair. He was in long term recovery from Heroin addiction. He had been clean a long time. Saved by his own spiritual experience. Very different from Liza’s. No two journeys are the same. He didn’t try to stop her. No one could have stopped him when he was in the grip of the madness but he was here and he could try to keep her safe.

“It’s like swimming up through layers of suffering. We start in the dark and kick towards the light. Each atmosphere brings a new level of pain and suffering to overcome. I’m not sure if some of us are ever meant to reach the light. That our purpose is to simply exist and maintain the balance. To stay alive, no matter what.”

“I need you to keep an open mind. I didn’t come by this knowledge all at once. Each layer I have travelled through has revealed more. My friend Dylan, you know, my friend who took his own life once told me that if humans had all this information in one go, if we could see the truth of the world around us, that we would all go insane!”

“When they took Jonnie, I reached my threshold for pain. I have been trying to go back down to the dark ever since I got sober. I tried to go back into my industry. I tried to stay in London and live with what I had learned. I found what I thought was a safe relationship and he nearly killed me. I reconciled my childhood trauma, faced my fears, healed and grew and because I have been shown the truth, they took her. They took Jonnie.”

She had been making her way through that second half of the bottle and it would be time for the vodka soon.

He eyed her intently. He knew where this was going. The story she had told him earlier that day had become her reality.

“This is the only way I know to go back in. The idea that my purpose is to fight and to keep fighting no matter what is exhausting. To choose to live, no matter what and to keep choosing to live as the attacks keep coming is too much. I’m only human, after all.”

This was the booze starting to talk. She had been shown that there was a great deal more significance to the kind of human that she was born to be. She had a mission and that mission was imperative to the delicate energetic balance of humanity.

                                  ……………………………………….

The fate of the world hangs in the balance. It is not a level playing field. It hasn’t been for many millennia. We hear the word ‘balance’ and we think of scales with weights either side, tipping one way or the other. A metronome insidiously tick tocking as we struggle to keep time with its demands.

The balance was tipped one way a long, long time ago and it is that balance that ‘The Power’ must maintain. What is fate? The power of agency determining events and destinies which act beyond our control. A precious 15% of humans possess the capacity to observe meaning through their environments and to self-reflect purposefully enough to identify the external influences that are helpful or harmful to themselves and the collective. This lack of agency forces the imbalance of energy that ‘The Power’ needs to maintain. The journey from suffering to flourishing held the key.

He listened carefully as she spoke. Missing the annoying and adorable presence of Jonnie as she usually curled up next to him, upturning her face to stare and lick his hands gently as he stroked her. He glanced at the wall clock. Signaling they were almost ten minutes into their exchange. Usually, their conversations gently meandered from topic to topic, ideas, theories posited and explored. Mostly inconclusive outcomes and humorous debate.

Not so today. He was here to listen and the clock was ticking.

The solitude, isolation and suffering of the last year had brought much clarity. Real world, logical, practical, sensible clarity. The bonus of being forced to live outdoors, the strange combination of factors were the key that unlocked her knowledge. Her memories. She guessed it might be the same for others like her who made it through a birth canal and into this reality. Or perhaps their combination lock was unique to them.

She believed that the most important catalysts were physical and emotional isolation, growth through suffering and the healing influence of nature. Perhaps, loss and grief also played significant roles, but they all fell under the heading of suffering or struggle. A very human desire to isolate, embrace simplicity and solitude after devastating circumstances.

She knew what she was here for. She was a key, a warrior, a lightning rod. She used the term ‘Supernova’ as a place holder. How do you define a human being among other humans whose presence and survival ensure the delicate energetic balance of the world and the survival of humanity?

Everything is energy. We think everyone realizes this by now. They don’t. Everything is connected.

Supernovas are the restorers of light. Essential to the balance to prevent their opposing energies reaching a critical mass. In the beginning or not long after the beginning, ‘The Power’ found a way to track the coming of a Supernova. They knew decades in advance where one would come forth.

Hot spots emerged in locations that are now known as Ireland, the Middle East, parts of Africa, North America and Canada. A modern day Department in the South of France, where James and Liza had migrated to in hard times. Random and unplanned.

‘The Power’ wreaked havoc on those populations with war, famine, manipulation of the weather with the purpose of killing the Supernova in early childhood or creating such devastating trauma before birth that the light would struggle to ignite and cause little disruption to their bigger plans.

This was also true for the rest of the global population, creating fear as the symptom to keep the light brought forth by the Supernova’s dimmed. The importance of the Supernova lies in their difference from all the other souls born into this reality. In modern psychological terms, they could be described as uniquely neuro-divergent. They have an ‘ego deficit’. They are less likely to develop the characteristics of an unhealthy ego. They are born with traits such as generosity, perspective, bravery, humility, empathy, honesty and a sense of justice which are virtually incorruptible.

Health Insurance companies process some claims and refuse the rest. No one would buy it if they didn’t. Governments turn a blind eye to a carefully orchestrated quota of drugs, guns and human trafficking because they need to control the flow of these things. That is if you don’t believe that Governments and organized crime are all part of the same ‘power.’ This is how it is with Supernovas. Managed, controlled, corrupted, killed or oppressed. Destined to exist to maintain the balance.

The flaw in the human design is in the will we are given to choose. It is a deliberate flaw. The choices we make are the point of living. We are an energetic experiment that seems to have no conclusion. Energies are always moving and changing. The goal is to win at Snakes and Ladders by making good choices. ‘The Power’ ensures that the world is not set up that way.

They can create a corrupted Supernova. It is much easier to kill them or break them but a corrupted Supernova offers incredible possibilities when positioned in a seat of power. Corrupted Supernovas don’t see old age. They are taken out and replaced when they have lost their power and influence.

See them thrive in the limelight. In politics, on Netflix, on stage and others go through life building connections with struggling Supernovas and destroy the light of everyone they come into contact with en masse. Sometimes a little. Sometimes a lot.

They tell you we haven’t evolved. Our egos are hardwired. Our fear is constant and cannot be alleviated. We get to choose how we evolve.

Everything is energy. Our brains are conduits for whatever energy we choose to think about. It is so much easier, in the orbit of a Supernova. The power of choice is one every human possesses. The right use of this power is our dilemma.

“I am trying to keep it in the day.” Liza took a few deep breaths. Now she glanced at the clock. A few more sips. Ten more minutes. Tick Tock.

“There is plenty of personal and universal background I can give you. Evidence we don’t have time to discuss the last twelve thousand years, Trump or lizard brain evolution.”

Supernovas create Stars. Despite the difficulties ‘The Power’ puts in front of a Supernova, they remain natural energisers. Remember they are born with it. They shine brightly before they come. Their light lessens when they arrive which is why they are hard to find. It’s much easier to divide, mislead, abuse and corrupt everyone to get to them before they create more stars.

Humans can choose to seek the light. Like plants and flowers bending to find the sunlight, the potential stars find that light in the Supernova. Even if the Supernova cannot find it in themselves. More stars are created this way and the Supernova is reignited. Fulfilling its destiny to shine.

They are not meant to shine brightly in this world. It is not safe now. It hasn’t been for thousands of years. Those that shine out and survive the corrupted Supernovas sent to handle them are dispatched when too many stars are created around them. Stars can only light up to a point in the presence of their Supernova. They can never become a Supernova themselves. They can also misuse their power of choice and allow fear, resentments, jealousy and bitterness to dim their light.

“I feel like I am rambling now. I know you get this.”

James had been listening politely. He didn’t think she was insane or drunk yet. They had discussed the 12 Universal Laws, rooted in Science, Spirituality and Metaphysics. He knew that her ‘theories’ and her story were rooted in them, her own experiences, her research and her observations. The only difference between this morning and the present was that Jonnie was gone and Liza was talking with such certainty and conviction that if she had been saying, ‘black is black’ – of course, he would have believed her without question.

The virus had been yet another experiment. ‘The Power’ had anticipated a particular outcome and had massively miscalculated and therefore underestimated the irrefutable power of a Supernova and the human capacity to make the right choices.

It had gone very wrong for them.

Social media had been created to break spirits. Addiction is the opposite of connection. The false reality it created deepened the disconnection, fed and reopened wounds of pain and hurt while engineering immoral and unethical behaviour. Not only was the energy of the screen addictive, so was the content. Humans were like crack cocaine addicts craving ‘likes’ and ‘shares’ as validation.

Attention deficit, already a huge issue in the ‘real’ world, now a magnified issue in a fabricated version of reality. Like a hall of mirrors in a fun house. Flaws and falsehoods magnified, infinitum.

The idea was simple. To get to the Supernovas and stars early on. To break generations and distract them further away from self-actualisation by having them live in a simulated world instead of tackling this one fearlessly.

Sirius is a platform for video content. Billions of users flocked to it during the Global lockdowns of 2020 and 2021. Real people, real updates. Real life. Mainstream news channels lost all credibility as their reporting was proven to be lies. The world collectively began to trust each other and see ‘The Power’ for what it was.

A breakthrough was made. Some Supernovas came to light. They created an abundance of stars. They had come up from the depths and were sharing their knowledge, their wisdom. The truth of how the universal laws were being manipulated and how we were being deceived. These laws are not man made. They are the immutable conditions that govern the realms in which humans exist and determine how reality and consequence operate within them.

The stars know that their Supernovas were neutralised. The rest of the world may never know their names. Sirius became a tracking system for ‘The Power’ to find them as they unwittingly exposed their true nature. Some recognised they were in danger and predicted their own deaths. Others were simply taken. Supernovas are not meant to shine brightly in this world. The light is within them. Their mere existence threatens ‘The Power’ but they are necessary for order and balance.

Had the balance been more equitable, as it must surely have been in a time that time has forgotten, it would be different. We would have Supernovas and stars everywhere. Liza could only guess that great battles were fought and the darkness won. The light had to be hidden and protected.

Some corrupted Supernovas have tried to make their way back. Their very sad demises are attributed to murder, drug use, suicide rather than a Global conspiracy to keep the balance tipped to darkness over light.

The armour of the Super Nova is stronger than most. Everyone comes with their own. The bible speaks of it. The breastplate of righteousness, the shoes of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation and the sword of the spirit. Almost incorruptible. Unless you are in the sights of ‘The Power.’

The virus created unexpected connection, cohesion and kindness on an unprecedented scale. The balance was tipping unfavourably against them. We thought it was a cull. It was targeting the old and the sick. It was targeting the wisdom and the knowledge that they held. They knew things that the world needs to maintain its order and things that ‘The Power’ did not want us to learn.

                                       ……………………………………….

As social media was designed to stunt our growth, we now have to live with the terrifying possibilities of Artificial Intelligence. Systems created by humans to self actualise for us. Technology defining what direction we take, how we should dress, what we should think and feel. AI does not feel. It responds. To how we feel. And we trust it when we don’t even trust each other. As AI gets smarter, fed by our human intelligence we will evolve into helpless co-dependents desperate to be told what to do, how to think and behave.

She was nearly 50 years old. She didn’t think that retirement from this burden was an option. They say we choose the environment we are born into and the trials we must face.

As she was walking with Jonnie trotting joyfully along by her side, this was what she became certain of. She understood the stakes. She had chosen to come. She had chosen her trials. Her parents. The chaos. To fight chaos we must first understand its creation. To conquer it we must go within and take control back.

She knew what she was fighting and how to fight. It was dancing within reach the whole time. She turned to bend and hug Jonnie. She had vanished.

Her eyes were drooping now and she was slurring a lot. She reached for the vodka. She was a glass or two in. He was surprised at her capacity to hold it together. This was not exactly a straightforward story and she had just suffered a great loss. Another one.

Nearly seven years sober and she was drinking and holding it, he imagined, like she stopped a couple of days ago. Yet, physically, this was dangerous territory. Especially as she was now on the hard stuff.

She began speaking again and took her slowly crossing eyes off the prize, sending the bottle skittering off the table. She made a cat-like move, as if to rescue it and suddenly returned herself to her rocking chair.

She sat for a moment, still as a statue, then stood. Some knowing passed through her in that moment. She would keep it to herself for now. For the first time, in a long time what she received had never really occurred to her before. They were going to win. Not her. Them. They could tip the balance and that time was coming very soon. Sober, she would be ready.

“James.”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“It sucks! It fucking sucks!”

“This is the battle I was created for. This is fight I have been looking for. What I have been training for. I thought it was out there,” wildly gesturing towards the window, bringing her hands to cover her heart.

“It’s here. It’s in me. It’s in us. The fight is within us and I thought I had lost today and I made a bad choice. I am the light. We don’t get to shine too bright in this world because this is what we get. We get reminded of our place. And with that, I am reminded of my power. If I wasn’t important, they wouldn’t keep coming, taking, abusing and attacking.”

“Can I come to you for a day or two? I need to sober up. I’m not going back. It’s a bump in the road. I can hide from the truth and it won’t change a thing. My job is to exist and survive at all costs. I’d rather do it sober than die drunk.”

She grinned at him sheepishly. There was that spark. The light. Whether he believed her story or not, it was clear that she did. Was it just one alcoholics need to be special and different, he wondered? Had the stress, uncertainty and suppressed trauma caused some kind of psychotic break?

Either way, one bog standard human to another, he would look after her until he knew she was safe. Connection is the antidote to addiction.

He packed a bag for her. Their half an hour time limit surpassed now. She had articulated her discoveries rather well, he thought. Maybe she really was a Supernova. Maybe he was too. Or would he be a star?

He helped her down the stairs and into the back of his Mini Clubman. He locked up the house, deep in thought. He felt wildly exhilarated. He had drunk nothing but felt a little tipsy. Like a kid that that has just had a brilliant idea and can’t wait to tell their parents. A feeling of newness, excitement that one gets when one finds something they have been looking for.

Weird.

In the dark and cold, he clambered into the driver’s seat, turning to check on a snoozing Liza, resting peacefully in the back.

As he slowly pulled forward, something large and heavy slammed into his door, scaring the absolute crap out of him.

“Holy fuck!” he gasped.

A face appeared at his window. Clawing wildly to be let in. Her big eyes, floppy ears and dopey grin were unmistakable.

Jonnie was home.

THE END