Pushed

The ground beneath my feet feels shaky, unstable, like I’m about to fall. No, collapse. Still, I’m floating. The air is thick with smoke. An unfamiliar man walks through the door.

“You're home!” I enthusiastically greet my fiancé at the door. He grunts.

I could swear I know him. I could swear we’re in love. But the truth is I’ve never seen this man before. Still, he goes, like he does everyday, straight to his computer; and like he does everyday he starts scrolling through the news.

He’s prettier than I remember. His angled jaw line brings out his cold, unsettling eyes.

“What’d you do today, babe” I shudder as he stares through me. I hold up the bong and lighter in my hands as if to say “this!” I smile a wide, genuine, child-like smile and collapse on the floor next to his desk. I rest my chin on his thigh and stare into his eyes. “I’m bored.”

Ignored, I retreat to the bedroom, the only other room in the apartment, remove my clothes and take another hit. Moments later, I’m no longer alone. Undressing, he motions for the bong and I hand it over. Pushing me back by my throat, he climbs on top of me. I close my eyes and the room spins. No, I have to keep them open. I stare past him and at the ceiling, trying to remember that if I close my eyes I’ll die. The sudden motion awakens my thin, frail body and a sudden surge of euphoria floods my system. I’m moving so fast I can’t keep track of the difference between his body and mine, they flood together. Eventually, the motion stops. “Do you have work tomorrow?”

“No, I’m off.” He smiles. I roll over on my side, hug the blanket and fall asleep.

When I awake, I’m alone. I thought he’d be here? I’m accompanied now by only the drug induced voices in my head. They tell me to write. But what? Grabbing a pen and paper I start writing whatever the voices say. I write down names. I write down movie titles. Songs. TV show characters. I write furiously, drawing lines between any two things that have some semblance of connection. I write down a secret code. Everything means something: the clothes you wear, the soda you drink, your job, your hobbies, your jewelry. Everyone’s trying to communicate with me and I haven’t even noticed. I write down instructions. How to psychologically torture a victim. Is that what they're doing to me?

Exhausted, I retreat to my laptop. Instead of watching Hulu, I scan the recommended movies. There’s a pattern; it’s a code. I open Spotify. Half of the songs are blurred out, only about three in each playlist resembling actual music. They’re trying to tell me something.

My fiancé comes home. It’s a different boy. Maybe that’s what he meant when he said he was off, he was off.

It’s a scavenger hunt. I have to break the code, find the right items, and guess correctly. It’s 3am and I’m furiously searching through by fiancé's drawer for clues. I find a sim card. Maybe if I put it in my phone it’ll give me instructions.

Doesn’t fit.

I find a book, maybe it has clues. I open to a page and only one paragraph is written in English. It explains what to do when a dog won’t get pregnant. Fuck. They’re trying to get me pregnant. Maybe I’m already pregnant.

I chug a pot of coffee, put on my running shoes, go outside, and sprint until my pelvic cramps. It hurts, I’m dizzy, I’m gonna throw up. I lay down next to the trail waiting to be well enough to walk the rest of the way home.

I finally get home. There’s blood in my shorts. It worked.

I’m trapped in a video game. This isn’t real life. I google “what happens when you win World of Warcraft.” No one’s ever won? I must be the first. But how do I escape?

Another unfamiliar boy, who’s been around for about a week, my fiancé, just not the same one, emerges out of the room. “Babe, wanna go hiking”

“Yeah.” I eagerly grab his arm and joyfully follow him to the car.

“We’re gonna see a waterfall.”

I stare blankly out the car window until we arrive.

Playfully, I prance out of the car and I twirl. “Which way?”

He ignores me and starts walking. I follow. He’s walking so fast I basically have to skip to keep up.

When we reach the top of the waterfall a single, clearly out of place, man is standing there in a suit.

“Ashleigh”

“Yes” I respond gleefully.

“Have you noticed anything strange lately?”

“No, not really.” I lie.

“Full disclosure. We’ve been watching you, trying to get to know you, trying to get in touch, trying to communicate.” I’m too mesmerized by the waterfall to hear him. “We hypnotized you to see what you know. You told us a lot.”

With that, he grabs my shoulders and pushes. Looking straight up at the sky, I fall back. I keep falling.