This one is not my usual sex-fest, time loop stuff that I wanted to write, hope you find it fun.
Like all of my stories, they follow their own reality. I know things don't go the way or as quickly as I write about but it's my story, my reality and in here, it does. All straight sex, no anal. all over 18.
I'd only been dating my girlfriend, Clara for about ten months or so. She was amazing, fun personality, was amazing in bed and was just stunning in every way. She was tall, with shoulder-length brown hair that curled naturally and had the most beautiful blue eyes to go with her beautiful face. When she smiled, it made me smile too and every second I was with her was like a dream. We'd met at a training conference and quickly fell in love with each other. She moved into my house with me after just two months and we were soon enjoying our lives like we'd been together for years.
I was with her when she got the call, the man just said in his broken English through his tears 'she is gone' and we were driving to clean out her house. We didn't even get a service to say our goodbyes, just a call from a country neither of us heard of saying she was gone. It took weeks for the State Department to issue a death certificate after an investigation. I looked over at Clara, all I wanted was to take her pain away.
"Please watch the road my love, you've drifted lanes a few times now. I'm okay," she said, touching my arm.
"Sorry, I just see the sadness in your eyes and wish I could take it away," I replied.
"I know, you can hold me when we get there."
Her mom lived in a pretty small apartment. Clara told me she traveled a lot and didn't want to spend money keeping up a big house when she wasn't there most of the time. I hadn't even met her, she was off on one of her travels the whole time Clara and I dated. The apartment manager stated there were just a few boxes worth of personal things and some old furniture but it would all fit in my box trailer. When we pulled in, the manager handed us a set of keys and let us in and I just held Clara to let her sob in my arms for a while.
"If you could put all the dishes and stuff in the donate boxes please my love, I'm going to go through her clothes and see if there's anything I want to keep. Please be careful with her trinkets. She'd bring home little things from everywhere she went. I'm sure there are a few photo albums I want to find too," said Clara after wiping her eyes.
"Okay," I replied.
Clara stopped to look at a picture, it was one of her and her Mom, she looked pretty young.
"I barely saw her after this, I just turned 18, was at college and she said she was going to be traveling a lot now that I was grown. We'd take trips to this beautiful little resort in Mexico before it got too dangerous but she was always so at peace there," she said.
"She's beautiful, I can see where you got your looks from," I said, smiling at her.
Clara put the picture into one of the boxes and then went to the bedroom. It didn't take me long to pack her kitchen, she perfected the minimalist lifestyle but with the trinkets around the room from places I'd never heard of, I understood. Clara came through at one point and picked up the set of keys she'd put on the table and left the room again, when she came back, her face was white. She had a photo album in her hands, one of those old-looking ones with a small lock on it but her eyes were wide open and she was staring at me.
"I.... I don't understand. There's no way. Look, it's you!" she said, pointing at an old picture.
"Holy shit, he's my double. Who is that?" I replied.
"The note says, 'My darling Marcus, likely the night Clara was conceived'. There are more, your birthmark on your ribs, look! It's the same!"
The guy in the picture was holding her Mom, just as beautiful as Clara, around the waist as she laughed. They were at a beach party or something by the background and with them all in swimwear but as we looked through the pages, more and more pictures of them in various throes of passion then a few more with him touching her pregnant belly as they gazed at each other. The pictures were all about 30 years old.
"That is nuts, it almost could be me but I'd be 60 by now. He looks just a little older than me," I said.
"How do we explain this one then? That cut on your forehead when you hit it fixing my car, it's there too on his head. In the same place! It hadn't even healed yet. This is freaking me the fuck out, Marcus," she replied.
"I didn't even notice that. That is pretty crazy, same name too?"
"It is you, Marcus! Not someone who looks like you. I asked my Mom, years ago, what my father looked like and she described you. When we met, I felt I knew you but it was because she'd put the picture of you in my head and that's why I fell in love with you so hard so quickly. She'd never tell me where he went, how they met or why he wasn't around. This whole time, I think I've been making love to my own Father who is the same age as me. This is like one of your silly shows that we make fun of, time travel, paradoxes but it's not real, it can't be real."
"Was there anything else, something to explain this maybe?"
I looked through the book and sure enough, we found a few pages of writing; it seemed it was just a diary of sorts. Clara quickly read through the pages but wouldn't let me read them. She had tears running down her face. Before I could stop her, she had put the pages into the sink and set them on fire, setting off the fire alarm.
"What are you doing?" I said, fanning the smoke away from the detector.
"I want you to know, I love you with all my heart and soul. I hope you can find a way back to me, I don't think I can love anyone else how deeply I love you," she said then walked out of the room.
I tried talking to her through the door she'd locked behind her but she wouldn't reply. I was confused and really curious about what was written on the pages she'd burned but they were gone with no way of reading them. I felt it best to give her space and carried on packing the trinkets into the boxes. One thing I picked up was fascinating. At first, I thought it was a big pebble but as I brushed the years of dust away it glistened and almost seemed to glow from the inside. I don't remember much else after that.
When I woke up, I was lying on a beach, face down, with the waves splashing around my legs. I felt like every muscle in my body was on fire and I was exhausted. A group of people were walking and laughing together and one of them spotted me and ran over to me.
"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" she said, helping me sit up.
I tried to reply but just coughed up seawater and was almost sick.
"John, go and get the manager or something, I think this guy just washed ashore!" said the woman helping me.
One guy, John I presumed, ran in the direction of the complex as the others fussed over me.
"Do you know what happened, man? Were you in a plane crash or shipwreck or something?" said one of the guys.
"I... I really don't know. I think I was somewhere else," I replied, my head was killing me and everything was fuzzy.
"Do you think he has amnesia? That cut on his head doesn't look fresh though," said another woman.
"Do you know your name?" said the woman who'd helped me.
"Marcus, Marcus Black," I replied.
"Well, Marcus-Marcus, I'm Lorraine, this is Gina, Steven, Maya and John has gone to get help. Where are you from?" asked Lorraine.
"I don't remember," I replied.
I looked down at myself and my clothes were all torn and falling apart. I wasn't wearing any watch or jewelry and my shoes were missing.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"Mexico, just over the border. We come down here a lot to chill out and party," said Lorraine.
John came back with a Mexican lady, she took one look at me and freaked out. She was ranting in Spanish but only John could speak the language. He asked her a few times to repeat, she said a few more things then left after gesturing to all of us.
"We uh, we have to leave. She said he's wrong and will bring nothing but pain," he said.
"I, I barely remember my name and have no clue how I got here," I replied.
