Losing My Grip on Reality

“With his prophetic words, Snap back to reality, Eminem clearly captured what we have come to know as the EVENT. His lyrics show a clear understanding of time, space and the construct of our human experience.”

TEACHER waves her hands in the air, emphasizing the words, her face becoming pixelated.

“Does anyone know what he meant by line 17, and I quote Better capture this moment and hope it don’t pass him?”

Chat bubble

Student #231 : He was trying to warn them.

Student #04: Warn THEM!

TEACHER, “Very good, anyone else?”

I look down at my fingers. They are covered in little droplets of blood, as I have a habit of biting my nails.

“OFF!” I swivel in CHAIR, a slight hum emitting from the dimming screen as it powers down. A shiver ripples through me as my feet hit FLOOR; it is cold. Concrete I believe, that's what it's called. I don't know who or what built HOME.

“OPEN!'' With that, WALL dissipates, revealing a small lush garden, fenced in by dark borders.

I extend my hand over the rain barrel and watch as the dark scarlet droplets slide from my outstretched fingers to vanish in the cool water.

“Why didn't they listen?” I speak out loud, addressing the empty garden. Sighing, I sit down on OUTSIDE CHAIR and stare up at the leaves overshadowing most of the garden.

I try not to think about why PAST us didn't listen to Eminem, or how I had no WHERE to be and no WHERE to go. There was only OUTSIDE CHAIR and CHAIR, maintaining I AM, keeping me from disappearing.

Teacher had told us that before the EVENT, life had been different. Life had been full of the reality of the situation or being realistic. I laughed, they even had TIMES to face reality. None of them had to worry about creating a reality where I AM didn’t exist.

Teacher told us that before the EVENT, reality had no emotional baggage, no personal vendetta. Perhaps if that were still the case, I wouldn't be sitting on OUTSIDE CHAIR, but instead I would be some WHERE.

Of all the things we lost during the EVENT, why did we have to lose our grip on reality?

I get up from OUTSIDE CHAIR and turn towards HOME.

“OPEN!” Once again my feet feel cold on FLOOR, so I quickly sit on CHAIR, raising my feet up.

“ON” I mumble, another hum emitting from my screen. TEACHER was asking another question,

“Why are names important?”

Chat bubble

Student#35: So we don't cease to exist.

Student#661: To tell us what they are.

Student#01:To not disappear.

I stare at the screen chat bubbles, repeating in my head what we all know, what we could not forget.

TEACHER again, “Yes, names make sure that things are, otherwise they are not. Repeat after me:

I AM,

I sit on CHAIR,

I live in HOME,

I learn from TEACHER”

TEACHER continued the list of names we all knew by heart, the list that kept us from disappearing, from switching realities. The chat bubbles duplicated quickly as students repeated the words. I join in. I do not want to forget. I do not want to disappear.

TEACHER waits for all of us to repeat her words, her face clear as she concentrates on our responses. “Very good, now lets review some history, open BOOK”

“OPEN BOOK” I command. My screen duplicates and opens BOOK.

TEACHER continues: “Here is what PAST said about reality. Pay close attention to the verbs!

Don’t let someone else’s opinion of you become your reality

Let’s make our dreams tomorrow’s reality

Our intention create our reality

Wanting something does not make it real

Since we cannot change reality let us change the eyes which see reality

Face reality as it is not as it was or as you wish it to be

Humankind cannot bear very much reality

Reality is merely an illusion Albeit at a very persistent one

My eyes widened as I scrolled down BOOK.

TEACHER spoke again, “Notice the verbs such as create, change, face. PAST believed that they could shape reality, avoid reality and even distract themselves from reality. Is this true? Were they able to shape reality?”

My armband beeps, a small message telling me it's time for me to answer a question. I type:

Chat bubble:

Student #111: “PAST could change their own perception, but they could not change reality”

My armband stops beeping, I lean back in CHAIR.

TEACHER: “Very good. Please read next link in BOOK” I scroll down, locating the icon in the bottom right corner,

SCHOLARS agree that the collective PAST eventually lost their grip on reality, this was signified by the sudden disappearance of certain persons. Too much diversity in emotions and ideas created new realities leading to the EVENT. #111, you have been saved from the EVENT in present reality. This is the only valid reality, you are very fortunate.

TEACHER is keeping you in reality. Always listen to TEACHER. Never leave HOME. Never think too long. When the armband beeps, follow instructions. If you do this, you will not disappear.

I don't need to read these words, I know them by heart.

“CLOSE ” I sigh. My screen shrinks back to one panel. I look down at my hands, blood again.

“OFF” I stand up from CHAIR, feet cold on FLOOR.

“OPEN '' WALL shrinks away, I place my hand in the rain barrel, watch drops, sit on OUTSIDE CHAIR. Turning my head, ... wait, what? Some THING under my foot on OUTSIDE FLOOR.

I look down, lift my foot, and examine.

It is silver and heart shaped.

I pick THING up, it is cold, like FLOOR. I hit it on OUTSIDE FLOOR. It makes a sound. I stand up, and place it in the rain barrel, it sinks. I grab THING and hold it close to my eyes. There is a small gap where I insert what's left of my nail, prying it open. I jump as THING flips open, two halves side by side. There is a picture, barely recognizable.

On the other half an inscription, “Leave HOME”

Leave HOME? I do not want to disappear.

My armband beeps, “time to eat”. For the first time, I ignore as I continue to stare down at THING in my hands.

Who are you?

I take THING and return inside. On BED I continue staring; my armband beeping “time to eat”. I rip it off, throwing it to FLOOR.

Who are you?

I close my eyes, trying to picture their face, their voice. I feel warm, I feel good, but then I feel sad. I ignore the beeping armband. I forget dinner, I forget sleep, I keep imagining their face and trying to remember.

Then I do.

Sara

…

…

TEACHER: “We have a new daily reading from the SCHOLARS”

SCHOLARS agree, Student#111 does not exist.