Upon the sudden resurgence of memories, the camera reverted to power-saving mode. It rested in the quiet abyss, quiet, but still vigilant to some degree. All functions were dialled down, but still, some signals penetrated the silence.
Like how in the distance, something rumbled, followed by a spell of anticipatory silence before the onset of a downpour. There was a moment when a family of birds huddled around the camera, as if to shield it from harm.
The juvenile birds pressed close to the lens, while the adults extended their wings, forming a protective barrier over their offspring and the device. By some strange twist of fate, the action itself tugged at a string of code running in the background, unravelling a fragment of a memory corrupted by the elements and time.
[Significant overlap with the crucial fragment found. Reconstruction in process...]
[25%]
The camera, positioned just off the ground, faced the door.
"You know, I don't even know what happened then. It all just happened so fast, so...suddenly."
There was a period of silence and fingers covered much of the camera's field of view.
"I-I can't talk about that now. I just...I don't know. I feel shocked?"
[Reconstruction in progress - 75%]
"My grandma—" She paused, lips pursed, eyes closed, taking a deep breath.
"Last week, my grandma—"
Tears streamed down her face as she looked away, taking another deep, slightly hiccupped breath.
"My grandma died. She just...went."
Silence enveloped the room as she drew breath after breath, her gaze fixed on something beyond view, her head shaking slightly.
"I can't do this. I know talking is supposed to help but—"
The woman stared at the camera before abruptly detaching it from the wall and sitting down, her gaze fixed on it in silence. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then tried again.
Lowering her eyes, she placed the camera on the floor. The rustling of clothes was followed by a soft thud as she sat down behind it. In that silent moment, the camera faced the firmly closed door.
"You know, I don't even know what happened then. It all just happened so fast, so...suddenly. I- when I was helping mum tidy up her things, I just felt this...this shocked feeling, like as if everything isn't real."
There was a period of silence and fingers covered much of the camera's field of view.
"You know, my head felt so foggy on the day it happened. I- You know, never mind. I don't even know what happened then. I-I can't talk about that now. I just...I don't know. I feel shocked?"
There was another period of silence before the woman sighed.
"When I was packing her clothes, I swear I could almost see her. I don't know. It was like this was her place you know? It's not like she's there I know that but it's as if she was. It was as if she would walk in any moment, scolding us jokingly as to why we were packing her stuff away without any notice."
[Reconstruction complete. Replaying restored memory]
The door opened and the woman walked in, before slowly closing it shut. She looked up, her eyes puffy and, in a single second, her expression twisted into something slightly broken, akin to fractured glass before smoothing into false composure.
She plodded towards her desk and stared up at the camera. In a single smooth movement, she flicked it off the wall. Then, as if all the energy drained out of her, she sat back down, staring at it silently. She opened her mouth and closed it before opening it once more.
"My grandma-" She stopped, pursing her lips, closing her eyes and took in a long deep breath.
"Last week, my grandma–"'
In a flash, that composed face crumpled and tears streamed down her face. Then, looking away, she took in another breath, hiccoughing slightly.
"My grandma died. She just...went."
There was a moment of silence as the woman took in repeated deep breaths. She stared at something ahead of her, shaking her head.
"I can't do this. I know talking helps but–"
The woman gazed at the camera before abruptly detaching it from the wall and sitting down, her gaze fixed on it in silence. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then tried again.
Lowering her gaze, she placed the camera on the floor. The rustling of clothes was followed by a soft thud as she sat down behind it. In that silent moment, the camera faced the firmly closed door.
"You know, I don't even know what happened then. It all just happened so fast, so...suddenly. I- when I was helping mum tidy up her things, I just felt this...this shocked feeling, like as if everything isn't real."
There was a period of silence and fingers covered much of the camera's field of view.
"You know, my head felt so foggy on the day it happened. I- You know, never mind. I don't even know what happened then. I-I can't talk about that now. I just...I don't know. I feel shocked?"
There was another period of silence before the woman sighed.
"When I was packing her clothes, I swear I could almost see her. I don't know. It was like this was her place you know? It's not like she's there I know that but it's as if she was. It was as if she would walk in any moment, scolding us jokingly as to why we were packing her stuff away without any notice. I just feel so shocked that that can never be the case anymore."
The woman's voice strangled into silence. She took another deep breath.
"How can I believe that, you know?"
In that next moment of silence, her fingers drummed against the camera's lens. It watched as the light faded from orange to orange-pink.
"I can't go further. I just can't. Maybe tomorrow or something. I don't know."
With that, the woman stood up, and the camera watched as her feet grew further away. Then, as the door shut, it sat there on the ground, watching the light fade as day fell to night.
YOU ARE READING
Of What Was Left Behind (ONC 2024)
Science FictionIn a ruined world, what traces of humans remain? In an overgrown corner of a once-intact room, nestled in the roots of a young tree, a barely functional camera watches over the decay. Maintenance calls go unanswered, leaving it to conserve power, tu...
