(Episode III) (Act 2)

Jackie landed hard against something. While it didn’t hurt… In fact, all of her previous pain—which put her into near paralysis up until that point—is just… gone. The only reason why her back ached upon the impact was that it was some semblance of physics.

She darted her eyes about, forcing her into action mode, because she just can’t afford not to at this point. She took in the sight, and feared that she’s fallen into some other fresh hell like before…

But… It felt familiar.

Jackie then tried to hoist herself up... And saw gigantic puzzle pieces snap together in the far, radiant vista, so far away that they’re almost shrouded in shadows.

She wondered why at this point she was still surprised.

The complex emotions quickly gave way to anger, as she continued to sit up and quick, only for the puzzle pieces in the distance combine just as ferocious. The cruel irony of that was what followed.

The once distant, monolithic pieces started to pull closer and closer pieces in response to this action, causing the very piece she landed on to flip over, constantly tossing her like a ragdoll and join in without seconds to spare.

As she screamed and flailed about; Jackie tried to grab whatever she could despite the possible dangers of free falling and latching onto something. But she couldn’t afford to be logical in a situation of possible death, much less any situation dealing with the Shift.

She saw a smaller puzzle structure, and stretched her arms out towards it, her arms taking the brunt of the impact as she gripped on for dear life. The absence of pain was good, otherwise what she needed to do next was going to be torture.

It was as big as a board, but it was something she can use as leverage. She used her upper body to lift herself up, making great progress.

Too bad that the piece then flipped about, coasting downward full speed. Jackie could only hold on for dear life until it clicked into place into a bigger piece; the impact bouncing her chest first, knocking the breath out of her.

She screamed again, in full rage, starting to pound her fist against the puzzle structure, over and over. Not did it shake with each punch, the whole realm shook as well.

She kept doing it, until she felt better. Of course, the structure remained unharmed. And of course, it’s surface reflected her deranged, damaged, and desperate face.

And she finally a good look at her cheek “wound”.

The skin near it became infused with the puzzle-like gash. What was once a layer of connected puzzles, various broken pieces that were crumbling towards the ends and edges. Giving off this fluffy, felt appearance as the sparks skittered off the broken pieces.

What was just road rash, became this.

What was just a normal girl, became this.

She saw the structure starting to breakdown, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The lost girl then fell once more as the puzzle piece broke into more of itself.

As she fell further and further down, the pieces that once plagued her begun to surround and fall with her.

It was… Surreal. What was her falling down endlessly, became a slow descent onto a possible “bottom” of this pit.

Jackie then noticed the pieces falling and piling onto each in such a way, it created a stage of some sort. A stage she then landed on left side first. There wasn’t really anything to it, nothing elaborate in the design. The pieces made itself into flooring.

But that didn’t last long, as suddenly, the pieces rose and fluttered together to begin creating this dense cloud of activity.

And then it begun to create something Jackie knew all too well.

Jackie… Just couldn’t believe what they were doing.

They’ve started to make the steps of Richardson Recreational. But… Just the steps. Just the steps, and the front of the center, which was lined with white blocks of stone and a black-metal framed automatic doors, which had a card reading device based near the side of said doors so members can get in.

But there was a certain detail that… If this was some kind of trick or… False illusion, that shatters that fear.

The Forever-Wet Paint that leaked from the black railing, where it intersected with the step. Jackie often messed with this mystery substance every time she came here, pointing it with her sneaker as it smushed under her foot, but slowly but satisfyingly retained its shape. The railing was dry, but yet this goop existed.

These pieces… These pieces of herself? They’re creating something dear to her.

Not only that… They’re recreating her memory of her Dad’s retirement party from the police. A very certain, and personal scene that she doubts her own father thinks she held close.

Because… That was ultimate their dynamic. He served in the military, got discharged and came home a local hero—only to go join the police after because he simply that good of a person. He never stopped, despite having very good reason to.

And she herself back then barely started.

She wasn’t too mesmerized to notice that not only were the pieces done with their work… She was starting there on those steps as well. A much younger her.

Her blonde hair was shorter, to her chin and done over many times to get it right. Her hands were buried in a grey hoodie, also sporting plain jeans, both oversized but not from her own volition. Because she was tall, more or less the same height back then… Which was a disaster for a then-former middle schooler… On the cusp of going to high school.

She knew that she was doomed. She knew that she had to do something, or else she’s going to be massively steamrolled.

But that was the thing. What could she do?

She fought back before, she tried to do every single thing she thought of before. It only made her problems worse, because she searched constantly for this solution that was just as fleeting and lost as she was.

The younger Jackie looked towards the evening’s sky. The shade created the perfect downcast that surrounded her, with the streetlight’s glare being so distant, so far away.

“You know it’s against the law to get out of stepping distance of cake, right?”

The young Jackie couldn’t help but smile at that. And the Jackie now found herself smiling just as brightly as well.

Jack Sr. came out of the center, fork in one hand with paper plate in the other. A giant of a man, taller than his daughter by a few inches. Built like a brickhouse, causal shirts like he wore being stretched so much they’ve turned into muscle shirts. Combined with wearing his shades, shaved head, and golden-gray stubble, he looked as he was often viewed as, a titan.

And atop his head, he was wearing a balloon hat of various cartoon-ish colors, while his lips and cheeks were covered in white frosting. When he came over and stood next to his daughter, he purposely smiled at Jackie. Knowing good well that she’ll start laughing.

And that she did. Damn it. This only proved her anxiety, the reason why she came out here, right…

He quickly sat the fork down and grabbed the tissues on the plate, that were next to the near-finished cake. He put his now-free hand on Jackie’s shoulder, patting it. “Tell me what’s the matter, babygirl.”

Young Jackie looked down, before admitting it, “I feel like a failure.”

She continued on, knowing that her father wasn’t going to butt in or instantly debated or screamed “no, she wasn’t” back. But she had to take a sigh first, not wanting to in some degree, “You… You and Mom are amazing. You’re kickass at your jobs, you’re celebrated as… Paragons almost and you managed to raise me right while being kickass paragons.”

The young, lost girl chuckled a bit, “Maybe my problem wasn’t that I was going to be some bad kid… Mr. Pete, Mr. Roger: all of them in there came up to me… ‘There’s no telling what you’re gonna be, kid’. ‘You’re going to be crazier than Jack; you might solve world peace or something!’ The reality… Just hits in so many ways proving that I’m just some sort of dud.”

She was met again with silence, then she finally purged what raw thoughts she was trying to reason out this whole time.

“I should be… Getting awards now or something. We’re having this awesome party about you putting yourself out on the line again and managing to make that work. I-I can’t even make my own legs work sometimes; I can’t focus on not only doing work on time but getting nothing but great grades. I should be doing you proud… And I can’t…”

She meeked out a “that’s all” to her father, before he unflinchingly hugging his dear daughter with a single arm.

“First off,” Jack began. “We’re proud of you unconditionally. Kinda goes with the parent thing.”

“Of course…” Young Jackie whispered back.

He then stopped the hug, and gently turned his daughter towards her, looking at her.

“It’s easy to see people succeed… But the truth is that we fail to see the many, many, many times that they’ve failed.”

What a weird place, the young girl found herself in. Inspired once again by her father… Yet once again faced with the fact that he’s perfect and she’s not.

“You’re young, Jackie. You’re allowed to struggle and fumble right now, forget the negatives that come with it. Because there’s grown adults that still struggle because they let those negatives get to them. The important thing is, the important thing to do, is being able to face your problems. Work towards solving them and meeting them head on. Because that’s the thing, baby girl…”

Jack smiled warmly, putting his fist lightly on his daughter’s shoulder. “We’re so used to complaining about our problems; when we do something about them first, they won’t know what hit them!”

The young girl nodded, and for the first time getting here, felt assured. “Okay… O-okay…”

“Now, we’re all gonna be here when you’re ready to come back,” Jack then kissed the top of young Jackie’s head, ruffling her hair before smoothing it out again as she giggled. “Stay strong. Because you and I know what you are already.”

“Yeah,” Young Jackie responded. Jack then went up the stairs, pulled out and inserted his card, returning to the party.

…She always wondered, why there was this card system. It wasn’t like a crime problem in the town, everyone in town got one or were able to get one.

She didn’t know, then. The implications.

That thick, metal frame was an anti-Shift countermeasure. Seal the doors and windows, creating a twisted cocoon death trap.

She didn’t know, and as Jackie looked on, recounting them, made her wish that she didn’t WANT to know.

The memory shattered into dust, causing Jackie to cover her eyes by crossing her arms over her face. She felt the flutter and clustering of the swarm, swerving about and around her.

As everything slammed together, she looked towards the noises of a hand playfully smashing against the lockers. She saw her younger self staring along with her.

The stage has now recreated the main hall of Cedar High, the kids just as paralyzed as her younger self because of what was happening.

She was a cocksure chick, wearing a white tube top that hugged her chest and exposed her belly with cameo-printed cargo pants. This exposed not only her fiery skin, but her toned arms, legs, and hints of it on her stomach. But if it wasn’t the skin, if it wasn’t the sheer—angry delight she had etched on her face, it was her scarlet hair that earned her this name.

Scarlet was surrounded by the Girls’ Basketball team as she playfully tossed about and manhandled a guy. Her glee in doing this was infectious amongst the ones young Jackie could see.

“Aaaaaw,” Scarlet cooed as she lightly and effortlessly swung this guy about. “Little creep doesn’t have anything to say now? Ran out of shit he can pull outta his aaasss~?”

Jackie tried to recount what exactly happened, but like everything regarding high school, it was either the most overblown, stupidest shit or something that was clearly and utterly desire that was treated like nothing. There was no middle ground… The guy soon rejogged her memory.

“L-let me go! I was just minding my own business; I zone out, I didn’t know I couldn’t go sit in the gym while you were practicing!”

Scarlet didn’t stop moving him about and didn’t listen to a word he said, “All the excuses you could’ve came up with and you went with that? You zoned out directly at us running around and sweating up a storm, huh?”

“Fuck you!” the guy whimper-shouted.

“Nah,” Scarlet laughed out. “I like staring at sweaty girls just as much as you do: and I’m upfront about it without being, y’know, creepy.” She then stopped, holding him by wrapping an arm around him. She overdramatically closed her eyes, using her free hand to touch her neck, trying to act like what she thought acting in a play would be like “And yet I’m the big bad bully…”

“YOU ARE!” the guy lost it, screeching at the tops of his lungs. “JUST BECAUSE YOU’VE—YOU’VE BEEN SHOVED INTO SOME SHIFT HOMELESS TRAILER PARK THING; YOU CAN JUST DO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT BECAUSE EVERYONE PITIES YOU!”

Whatever “lighthearted” bullying she was doing then, it quickly changed the mood as Scarlet slammed the guy into the lockers, hoisting him up.

“You’re funny,” she said with little to no humor in her voice. “Too bad I hate comedians.”

Scarlet always thought she sounded great, delivering that one liner to people that pissed her off. Viewing this with hindsight kinda diminished the worry she felt from her younger self…

Nonetheless, the young girl bolted towards the confrontation and grabbed Scarlet’s arm, squeezing it and nearly tripping for her trouble.

Young Jackie was out of breath, aching from the previous night’s botched exercise “routine” she started up again after quitting for a month. And that “squeeze” showed that Scarlet wasn’t for show.

Scarlet, her team, the guy, and everyone else just looked towards this giant of a girl. Seeing what she was going to do next.

Her voice gave out, creaked and cracked as she tried to demand, “Let him go, please.”

Despite claiming to be this humorless personification of rage, Scarlet just laughed, laughed loud enough to cause a domino effect across the halls.

The red girl let go of the bullied guy, and she didn’t have to force Jackie to lose her grip. The despondent girl did it herself.

Scarlet then wiped her eye that created and let a tear trail down her cheek. She patted Jackie’s shoulder, exhaling after the mirth.

“You’ll, uh, grow into it, kid.”

The team loved that, as they laughed more as Scarlet walked away long with them, shaking her head.

At least she hadn’t completely failed, the young Jackie thought. She tried to help the guy.

The weird thing of all this, from Jackie’s point of view, was that the guy… Well, he wasn’t a guy.

But a mass of the pieces constructing some shape of a man. Creating this effect of a sketch in emotion, an outline of a blank human. She wanted to know why, but she was… Swept up in this trip on… Into, memory lane.

But the guy with no identity pushed her away, saying nothing to her, but walking away.

…It then occurred to Jackie, as he walked alone, started to fade away.

She couldn’t remember him because he had to transfer to another school. What happened there, being bullied by Scarlet and being saved by Jackie: it ruined his entire social life because he was deemed this creep that let girls play with him. He was gone in a matter of what could’ve been extreme, isolating months.

But he was right… Due to the Safehouse Act, people greatly affected by the Shift are displaced into these homes and given a lot of chances and resources so that they can animate into society again. To… See that be possibly twisted…

Once again without warning, the pieces swarm scattered around Jackie, this time blowing her onto her back. After reacting to this, setting up and standing, they’ve instantly created this next scene.

“Mom,” Young Jackie came into her parent’s room. “Maybe you can help me with this…”

She always winced, in retrospect, when she phrased things like that. It’s not that she and her mom aren’t close, it’s just that her mother was a very busy, very hard woman. She wasn’t that she was unapproachable, but what you saw, what you talked about, is what you ultimately got with her.

She needed something like that, because at this point, she was going to break.

Young Jackie was covered in sweat, panting, and was just plain exhausted.

“I-I’m trying, I’m trying like Dad said—Like,” she tried to reason. “But he’s him, he’s able to make his mistakes work, make the nothing out of something and call that progress. But I can’t! And I’m not like you—someone that can’t get compromised and can logic things out… I’m just…”

Dawn sat down her papers onto her lap. Even without her giant of husband, and her giant daughter, she was short. She looked up at her daughter, with her glasses hung from her nose a bit.

“Well of course,” Dawn said. “No one should be like your father. Not even your father.”

There it was. Dry and precise.

Dawn adjusted her glasses, “Jackie dear… Don’t you think you’re wearing yourself out?”

“Possibly…” Young Jackie admitted, feeling like an idiot.

Dawn softened her tone and Jackie listened the most whenever she did so, “When we’re worn thin, we tend to make very rash decisions that we would never have done in the first place. Dear, being proactive is a great gift that you have… But being proactive without the reasoning backing it up is aimless, deadly. It can destroy the point that you were making.”

The young girl managed to catch her breath, her thoughts, and finally her mind again. She could only look down because she recognized this and chose to ignore. Meeting her problems head on, with every single thing she had. And she was driving away whatever she could’ve gained.

“There’s no shame in taking breaks,” Dawn continued. “We need breaks. When we’re rested, we let our minds rest. And ready to tackle whatever problems heading towards us because we now know how it works and how we work. Decisions can be in the moment. Solutions take time.”

“Yeah,” Young Jackie said, looking down at her titan of a mother with a worn smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

Her eye settled on the documents, something she’ll soon learn about in the future, way too fast in retrospect.

“Fair Warning” forms. “The already comatose legal system will be some horrible mix of automatic and tributional until we figure out what this stuff is.” Putting her mother out of the job and into some unending hiatus.

Jackie was knocked down by the swarm again, getting ferocious before she did. Had it been painful, it would’ve hit her like a truck…

What Jackie saw… Wasn’t a memory, exactly.

It gave her pause before getting up again, before sitting down because at this point: she’s going to be flung into the not-sky at this point.

It was just… This dusty plane. A dessert, but not even having any vegetation or followed the rules of what a dessert is to qualify.

It was a statement. A pledge.

Young Jackie drew the line as she looked towards the mass of shifting darkness that existed on the other side.

“There…” she finished. She pointed to herself, “I’m here…”

She then pointed to the darkness. “You’re there.”

It advanced forward, sprinting like a madman despite not processing any limbs.

Young Jackie stepped forward, in a wide stance, to meet it.

They collided, but it was clear that it’s too much for her. Didn’t mean that she didn’t try, as she strained, grunted, and used her all to give it a fight. But it quickly steamrolled her, knocking her on her butt.

“Not… Ready… Yet” she huffed out. “How…? How can I get ready…?”

She brought her knees into her chest, grabbing her long legs, as she lowered her head and closed her eyes.

She parsed, she hummed, she ruminated. The last action aided her thinking. She opened her eyes, staring at the line. The darkness was over it, starting to cover it in it’s smoke. She detachedly dug her finger into and drew aimlessly in the sand, if she can’t do anything else. How can a lanky tree of a girl can be strong enough to stand against and beat this dark wind?

She needed to face it. She needed to grow into herself to face it. She needed to find the solutions to growing into herself so that she can face it.

…Work towards it.

The lost young girl may’ve found her way.

She shot up, walked towards the hazy line, but stopped short of it.

She crouched down, drawing a short tick. She then got up, walked back works, then did the same again.

She kept doing it until she returned to where she sat, sitting down again as she looked elatedly at her solution.

A finish line turned into a track, having markers where she can hit, where she can have visual, actual progress. She did it! She finally did it…

“Now then…” Young Jackie pointed towards the respective tick. “Who am I… What do I need to be, two ticks from now…? And when I get there… Will that be enough for what’s coming? And if that’s not enough… I’ll use the rest of the ticks and make what I need the ticks.”

The young girl found herself stood up. “This is my starting line.”

Jackie of the present tried to… Figure out whatever this is. She remembers coming to this conclusion yes, but…

And before she knew it, Jackie of the past was starting to look like her current-future.

The now pony-tailed, toned, confident, she was pushing back against the darkness and was winning. Her shoes dug into the sands, gaining traction as she lifted with her legs. She finally pushed back at a perfect time, finally defeating the darkness plaguing her life.

The triumphant girl roared, planting her feet further into the sands, as a statement.

Like she did with her other foot tracks: marking them near each and every tick. A statement that she fulfilled her pledge.

Of course, her figuring out how to work out, what her plan was and what worked for her didn’t go like that, she thought. It was grueling because somehow, it was much harder than actually doing it—which was it’s own level of hell. She had to convince her father for putting her body on the line, had to figure out how to build muscle for her to tighten up, change her diet completely, and god there were times where she just wanted to straight up quit…

…She got it now. This was a visualization of her thought process, how she… Visualized it. If this was a siVis thing of recreating memories, then what’s stopping her from completely visualization thoughts in general?

Jackie had a feeling what the next memory was going to be, and oddly enough, it just begun.