He Who Was I

January 13, 2023

Backstory

Prior to my first move to Iceland, I wanted to try writing something different from my first attempt, Home. I had read a little more and developed an idea for a story I wanted to write. It was based on dream I had, detailed in the first paragraph.

As I wrote this story, I saw my vision for it being taken over by whatever it was I was writing: it wasn’t what I had in mind. I’m including my ending paragraph for the original plan here. It's fun to read it, looking back, short as it may be, it predicted the tone of my future work. I never actually looked at this piece since writing it. That paragraph even foreshadowed elements of Between My Lines.

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Chapter 1

I was surrounded by people I knew: my friends, I suppose. I can’t say where we were or what we were doing, but as we all conversed, the girl standing next to me suddenly turned to me, irreverent of the conversation at hand. She looked directly at me, her face seemed to span the entirety of my vision. It was like a scene out of a movie – something breaking the fourth wall. She looked at me and asked: “What are you doing here?” I was so taken aback, I simply stared in shock. I seemed to take a step back, right into the waking world. I sat up, reliving the memory of my dream; again, I just stared out in shock.

All throughout the day, I found myself revisiting that memory over and over again. What are you doing here? echoed through my mind, growing more sinister and confrontational each time. The way she looked at me; it was as if she knew it was a dream: that “I” wasn’t really me, and she wanted to ask the waking me what I was doing there. Whatever her intentions were, I was quite shaken up. If this was my mind’s way of sending a wake-up call, I received it loud and clear.

There were still a few days remaining on my trip, and I doubted I would see another person before it was over. That was my intention, after all, when I arranged to camp in the mountains at the onset of winter. But for the first time in my life, I felt rather uncomfortable being alone – scared, even. It was a primal fear like I was being stalked. Every time I stepped out of my tent, I had to first poke my head out and look around to make sure no predators were watching me, waiting for the right moment to strike.

I felt silly for doing this. I’ve never seen a dangerous animal out here in all the years and areas I’ve visited. Nevertheless, the disconcerting feeling I had upon waking up from that dream stayed with me.

On my last day, the first snow of the year came in overnight – just enough to cover everything in a beautiful white blanket. I decided to climb up the ridge beside where I set up my tent and take some photos while I had the chance. From the top, I could see the distant peaks slowly fading into the haze of gentle snowfall. At last, I felt the peace of being in nature again.

I set up my tripod and began framing my shot. The wind had picked up slightly, and the distant trees began to sway, the snow nestled in their branches creating an ethereal display. A long exposure, I decided, would perfectly capture the beauty of this experience.

A strong gust of wind came in from behind just as I pressed the shutter. Unprepared, my hand bumped the camera, and I quickly grabbed the tripod to keep it from falling over. There goes that shot, I thought. All the while, ever so slowly as if it were mocking me, the snowy haze overtook the distant mountain tops. I let out a sigh as my perfect picture faded away. I tried again just in case, but I couldn’t even see the peaks after the few seconds the picture took.

Settling for what I could get, I packed my gear away and headed back to my tent. The last thing I wanted was to drive home in a blizzard, so I decided to leave right away. Back in front of my tent, to my dismay, that unsettling feeling came back. I glanced around before stepping in to grab my sleeping bag, but as I stepped back out, now facing the encroaching haze, I thought I could make out a dark figure at the edge of the opposing ridge. From its distance, it appeared tall and straight – it could have been a person. Although I struggled to make out any details, I felt my heart racing. There wasn’t anything to even form a dark figure, I realized as I glanced around once again, confirming that my camping spot had no trees or large rocks. Once my eyes darted back to the ridge, however, nothing was there.

I don’t know why I was so bothered by this – let alone why my dream bothered me so much to begin with – but I packed up and practically ran down the mountain.

After sweeping off the snow, I threw everything in the back of my car, sparing no patience even for my precious camera gear, and drove off. The echoes of What are you doing here? were now replaced with visions of that dark figure. Is that what the dream was about, I asked myself. Had I disturbed some strange creature’s territory? I laughed at the idea. Whatever I saw, it certainly wasn’t some telepathic yeti speaking to me in my dreams. That is, if I actually saw anything in the first place.

My drive home was otherwise peaceful. Only a handful of cars were out, and the weather picked up only enough to make the drive cozy rather than dangerous. I arrived home mid afternoon, leaving enough time to sort through my pictures come the night.

Chapter 2

Sadly, I hadn’t really captured anything of interest. The only good picture from my trip ended up being that last attempt from the ridge. The mountains were not visible as I had predicted, but I had captured the mood quite well. I glanced at the clock to see it was already quite late: I had spent far too much time combing through each and every image for hints about that dark figure. Nevertheless, I went against my better judgment and caught up with all the going-ons of the world from my time away.

Of course, I lost track of the time yet again. It was already half past midnight when I noticed, so I shut everything down and got ready for bed. I was too tired to think much about anything other than my plans for my one good photo. As I drifted to sleep, not once did I think about the girl or the figure.

…

And so came the end of my days. Had I dreamed my life away? Or, in my eagerness to embrace the future, neglecting the present, had I lived out my lives yet to come: living in the future only to throw away all the possible lives that could have been? If there is anything I have learned in my many lives, it is that knowledge does not change the truth. And truth cannot be known. So, whatever the truth may be, my time has come. Perhaps now, I may know peace. All lives end in death. At last, there is nobody else I can be.