Desire

CHAPTER|ONE

|Marlon|

     I WAS CONSCIOUS but all I could see and feel was darkness. My brain felt like it was slowly reviving and powering back on. My eyelids were open but I saw nothing but black and heard nothing— it was dead silent.

After a while I could hear the buzzing of a distant sound in front of me and the darkness was turning to a lighter grey. The pounding of my heart was getting stronger and I could feel faint whistles of wind on my skin. My chest was moving up and down and the light feeling of air was gradually exiting out of my nose.

I gained the ability to blink my eyes more and my vision cleared as I was blinded by the light streaming in from a window. My eyes were so dry you could hear the apparent sound of my eyes closing and opening. I looked around and saw that I was in a room, but it wasn't just any room. I was in the room I lived in as a child in Omaha, Nebraska.

Slowly rising from the bed, I felt all the bones in my body crack and pop like they haven't been moved in years. My throat was dry and I was dying for a glass of water. I had the most disgusting taste of death in my mouth and had no idea why. Finally I decided to get out of my small twin sized bed and walked over to the vanity across the room.

As I gazed in the mirror it reflected my face and shock shook through me. I was Marlon Brando, but something wasn't right at all. I touched my face examining the wrinkle free smooth skin with my mouth slightly ajar. I was Marlon Brando but 27 years old once again, was it still 1951?

Wait—didn't I die in 2005? That's the last thing I can remember, only my death and the early twenty-seven years of my life. I lived to be eighty-years old and only remembered a quarter of my years alive. 

I suddenly got the urge to piss and slowly crept over to the door and left my room. I glance all around wondering if anyone was here also. I checked every room in the house but it was vacant. Twisting the door knob I entered the bathroom and sighed pulling down my pants. I chuckled looking down at my proudest gift from God himself, although this whole situation I'm going through right now may top it.

"Dicks still big as shit I see" I say to myself as my urine hits the water. Quickly I pulled up my pants not bothering to button them or buckle my belt. I reached down for some tooth paste, but the tube was brown and molded, so I settled for just rinsing my mouth out with water.

I somehow how ended up at the window that nearly blinded me before and glanced out. All the houses were the different, and the roads looked fresh and the cars were out of this world. In every drive way there was a fancy space ship looking car not at all similar to the cars my parents had. My attention was caught by a black man getting in his car possibly going to work. That's surprising they actually let them move into this kind of neighborhood now—interesting. African Americans were always treated wrongly as I grew up and I never thought it was right in my eyes. I didn't mind them, no matter their color we all came out of our mothers a human.

At the mans mail box stood a woman grabbing the letters from it and tapping on a device, it was small and lit up her face. I couldn't helped but stare as I examined her. Her light brown hair was tied up with some pieces falling down to her cocoa brown skin. I couldn't really see her eyes but her lips were full, shiny, and pink. She was dressed kind of provocatively with tight black pants on and a exercising bra. I myself have never seen a lady dress that way in public and it truly fascinated me. She seemed very interested with the device in her hand and didn't even look up to see where she was walking. Before she got to her front door she suddenly turned around and glanced right at the window I was standing in and watching her out of. Quickly I slid behind the wall so I wouldn't be in site, not knowing if I should be seen or not.

Something was definitely off, and things weren't making any sense. The cars, the roads, the houses, and the people were all different. Not to mention it didn't feel or look like I was in Nebraska.

I ran outside going to the house on my left and knocking on a door. After a few seconds the door was pulled opened by the girl from earlier and my breathe hitched. She was even more of dime up close—I was always an ace at spotting the beauties from afar. As I stared she looked at me waiting for me to say something.

"Hello? Can I help you?" She questioned me with an accent to her voice that drew me in more. I glanced down quickly at her body and boy was she stacked, Her back assets were way larger than any of previous women I've taken interest in.

"This may sound nuts, but is it still 1951?" I asked seriously. Her mouth, which I couldn't help but stare at, slightly fell ajar but she quickly closed it and rolled her eyes at me.

"Aren't you a little too old to be joking around with a seventeen year old?" She said crossing her arms over the bra she was wearing.

"You're seventeen?" I asked in complete shock, she's a minor and her mother lets her dress like that? She didn't even look her age, she looked at least over the age of twenty-one.

"Yep. How old are you?" She asked not exactly sounding interested.

"Twenty seven"

"Hm, exactly my point." She turned and began to close the door. Her attitude caught me off guard, but it was something that made her interesting to me.

"Wait!" I exclaimed quickly stopping her from leaving, "Please just answer the question and I'll leave you be."

She sighed and looked at me with pity, "No it's not fucking 1951, it's 2020 my dude."

My eyes instantly widened and my eyebrows furrowed, "What that doesn't make any sense."

"Yep, it's the twenty-fifth of August 2020, it's Friday, we're in the twenty-first century, we live in Sunny California.

I stayed silent staring at her in shock wondering what the hell was going on and how the hell my house got to California.

"Um, if that's all you had to ask I'll just be going now." She trailed off and quickly closed the door.

Getting back into my house I threw off my shirt and crawled back into my bed laying flat on my back with no clue of what was happening.

With my mouth wide open I thought to myself—I'm twenty-seven year old Marlon Brando in 2020 who died in 2005 at age eighty and currently I'm supposed to be at age ninety-three.

What the fuck.