Imagine waking up suddenly in a futuristic city that is full of robots, last-generation machines, flying cars, and tall crystalline buildings, but with cowboys, witches, elves, and monsters roaming around. Well, that happened to me, Louis, a young adult from North London. All of a sudden, the brick houses disappeared, and high buildings replaced them. My rock band posters, computer, videogame console, and other belongings disappeared; instead, there was a huge flat screen, astronaut suits, long and short-range weapons, and other things you could only see in sci-fi films.
When I got out from my bedroom to have breakfast, my mother gave me a kiss and called me “space warrior”. She didn’t call like that before.

‘What is happening? Don’t you notice something weird?’ I asked my mom, but she ignored or didn’t listen to me.
‘I prepare a breakfast high in proteins for my space warrior. I’m so proud of you.’ My mom continued with the “space warrior” speech and hugged me, almost leaving me out of breath. I was confused and had to search for answers.

After having breakfast, I took on my air motorcycle and drove throughout London City to find clues. The different neighborhoods looked different: some were taken from horror or apocalyptic films, others were animated, others were from cowboy films, and, of course, ones that were stuck in a fantasy world. While I roamed the city, I noticed a patron: a face that appeared in banners, signs, ads, posts, walls, and buildings. It was the face of a young woman of black long hair with purple ends and big brown eyes. As I read, she was seen as a heroine, a legend, and lived in a big castle made of the finest crystals and pearls. It was located where the Buckingham Palace was supposed to be. When I tried to enter, animal guards dressed in purple suits surrounded me. I raised my hands and remained silent. The guards approached me and dropped me to the ground. They were handcuffing me when a known figure appeared from the palace entry doors: Lucy Blendsoe, my best friend.

‘Lucy, what is going on?’ I asked her, amazed. She was wearing a violet dress with a cape and a golden belt tied to her waist.
‘Let me explain this to you.’ She told me and successively ordered the guards to free me.

Lucy took me to a big room in which the ceiling was made of coloured mirrors that formed the image of a kingdom and animals roaming throughout forests. I sat next to a big rectangular table, and it was as if I was kilometers away from Lucy.

‘Could you explain what is happening?’ I asked her, and she stopped eating her Caesar salad.
‘Remember the notebook you gave me for my last birthday? Well, it turned out to be magical. Everything I wrote there becomes true. So, I decided to write a story while I was upset and sad. And… well, things happened – She gave me a guilty smile, and I shook my head.
‘This is impossible. That bastard never told me the power which the diary holds within itself!’ I shouted and remembered buying the diary at an old bookstand in Portobello Road Market.
‘Don’t worry! I can… destroy it.’ She said, doubting. She wasn’t sure of destroying her prized possession.
‘You don’t have to destroy it. You can erase what you wrote.’ I told her, but she turned down the idea immediately.
‘I tried it, but it is as if the ink is permanent. What you write cannot be erased.’ She stated seriously.

We headed to a lift, and she pressed the button to go downstairs. The lift moved swiftly, and we didn’t utter a word during the short trip. She had her head down, and her face denoted sadness.
We arrived at a floor where there were no lights, paintings, mirrors, or other luxuries, and we only found a golden door without keyhole. She put both hands and said something in an ancient language. The door emitted a light and opened slowly, leading to another chamber in which was a golden coffin. When I was about to enter, she pushed me and told me to wait outside. I crossed my arms and shut my mouth. She proceeded the same way as with the door but said something different. She let go of a scream when she opened the coffin.
‘The notebook disappeared!!!’ She shouted, showing me the empty coffin.


© Jero Gandini