Chronicles From The Future: The amazing story of Paul Amadeus Dienach

But the rest of what they told me about divine and human matters calmed me. They conveyed to me such a profound serenity, such consolation, which made me feel more at peace than ever before. They were a balm to my troubled soul. Later, of course, I achieved a deeper understanding of their version. In their view, they had before them “one of the rarest metapsychic phenomena”, a peculiar manifestation of a mental state, not entirely balanced—at some point they even called it pathological—but not something supernatural that escapes the confines of the laws of life and of the physical world.

ANDREAS NORTHAM’S ACCIDENT

The two elders left. I hardly realised how quickly the time had passed and it was now dark outside. Valleys and mountains surrounded me. I could now hear the familiar celestial melody (their evening prayer), sung by children’s voices as if coming from afar, from another, otherworldly planet. Truth be told, I never wanted it to stop. August 18th

(After midnight)

It’s two o’clock in the morning. I am surrounded by complete and utter silence and I arose from my bed to write. My day was painless and my nervous system free from the tension of the first days. If they are telling me the truth, there’s still hope for me to recover from the shock.

Today was the thirteenth day of my new life, thirteen days full of newfound experiences and emotions. My thoughts are always with God. Only he can show mercy even to the sinner.

Yesterday morning I went out to the terrace and enjoyed the sun. I spent a long time by myself. I sat down and re-read what I had written the previous night.

Later, Professor Molsen joined me and kept me company until noon. He was different with me today. He was talkative and we communicated quite well, except for the times when he tried to talk to me in his own German. Yearning to know more, I accused him of having experimented on Andreas Northam, without being sure that such a suspicion had any right to cross my mind. He vigorously denied that allegation with apparent sincerity.

The day before yesterday, Ilector Jaeger told me that they had brought Northam to Molsen, having suffered fatal head injuries in a crash. He died in Molsen’s arms and only after fifteen minutes and after having frozen him did Molsen manage to bring him back to life. I didn’t mention any of this to the physician. I asked Jaeger why they didn’t let me speak to everyone freely, like the rest of the patients did, and he assured me that this would only last for a few days. He also told me that my insomnia would not harm me as long as I spent most of the night lying down.

As far as my life was concerned, he didn’t ask me about anything other than the illnesses I had been through. I talked to him about the incident of 1917 in as much detail as possible; “a kind of lethargy” I called it.

In the afternoon, Jaeger paid me a second visit. Both times he was sent by the Ilectors. He told me so much… His company is a great consolation to me. He speaks in such a different way from the physicians; he puts his heart and soul into our exchange.

THE TRUTH: FAINTING IN THE PAST (1921 AD) AND WAKING UP IN THE FUTURE (3906 AD)

At night I felt extremely nostalgic. Everything I had ever loved, everything I had been accustomed to my whole life triggered torturous memories that made me weep inconsolably. If only I had something here from my own place and time, anything, even an inanimate object, to keep me company and make me feel at home.

The awareness of the incredibly long time-gap weighed heavily on me. It gave me a feeling of a moral abyss that proved much more frightening in my internal world than in the external one. The idea of an intentional escape from life entered my mind. The unbearable image that penetrated my thoughts at all times was that of my beloved grey-haired mother, desperately crying over the lifeless body of her child in some hospital in Zurich. “Mother!” I’d cry out sobbing, “Mother, I will never see you again!”

That first night before I woke up here, while lying in bed half asleep, the vivid memory of Anna once again conquered my mind. I had spent the evening on our beloved hill with the windflowers. When the darkness of the night fell, it found me there. I returned home walking through dark and deserted streets so I could hide my tear-filled eyes from the world.

I lay down on my bed, careful not to make the slightest noise that would wake my mother, who was lying sick in the adjoining room. She had been exhausted lately. When I switched off the light and it became completely quiet, I could hear her breathing, I remember. Her presence, the feeling of being in the company of my mother, somehow sweetened the misery caused by the loss of Anna.