Stranger than Love

Where am I? Opening my eyes, I see a large white surface with a tint of blue several inches above my face. The large white block above me seems to be floating at first, but then I realize it is connected to vertical extensions attached to the roof. The large structure is very bright. What if the large structure above my head breaks and crushes me... Will I die? Oh no! I need to get out of here, out of this unusual looking large space.

I attempt to get out of the soft foam substance and smooth fabric that I am lying on. I fail. My legs and arms do not support me. It feels like I am experiencing one of those weird lucid dreams where the whole body fails on a person. My body feels tired. I can’t get up. What if a serial killer kidnapped me and tied me up in here? I try to get up and fail miserably. In my misery I lay in the soft foam, hopeless. I have always been interested in thriller movies and shows about serial killers so every time I am stuck in an unfamiliar situation, the first thing that comes to my mind is being kidnapped by a serial killer.

I look around to find any clues of violence the serial killer left in this unusual, large space. I recognize nothing. Wait! I notice a large structure with two metal parts pivoted with the sharp edges facing inward. It almost looks like bunny ears just a lot sharper. Ah! It is a pair of scissors. To my left side there's a small table with tiny legs that look like they are about to fall apart. A transparent enormous jar sits on the table. The jar contains several tools of a variety of sizes. In big bold letters it says “Dispose” on the jar. Dispose what— the jar? No, that is a waste of resources. They can’t just throw glass away like it! I have the urge to fight whoever wrote that, but have no strength or power to do so. I notice tiny red dots, liquid dots at the bottom of the jar. Hmm, interesting I think. Oh no! It is blood. This is my first clue. I definitely am indeed kidnapped by a serial killer who has murdered someone right before keeping me here.

The red drops look fresh like they have just been freshly out of a human’s skin or body. My heart starts racing and my mind goes crazy. What if the criminal stole some of my organs? What if he or she is keeping me in here to take out my precious organs? To support this idea, my body does indeed feel empty—empty of life. It feels like I am missing parts of me. I feel a striking pain go down my stomach. What stomach do I feel pain in, if the criminal took my stomach? I probably feel pain in the empty space that my beloved stomach used to sit in. Oh how I miss my stomach and the feeling of no pain. The emptiness is killing me. I need to figure this out. I need to know where I am and what the hell is going on.

I notice shadows on the surface in front of me. This means there must be a source of light behind me. I am laying in this soft foamy substance and it is really hard to turn my head a hundred and eighty degrees. There must be a window right behind me. I feel like a genius and like a detective from Criminal Minds. I need to find out how high the window is from the ground to plan my escape. I see several trees that almost look naked pass by my vision. Their leaves must have fallen. This is progress. At least I now know what time of the year it is. It’s fall. Seeing trees means that I can’t be that high up from ground level. I need to keep looking for clues. Wait, why are the trees moving? Oh the whistling sound means I am on a train. It is ridiculous to think that someone would kidnap an individual and transport them on a public train.

I slowly tilt my head down to look at my belly. I cross my fingers hoping it is still there. Yay, to my surprise, there is a belly. A big one! It kind of looks like I ate three meals in one, but it’s okay. I am happy to see my belly. I am wearing dull green uniform-like clothing. Why in the world would I wear green? It is my least favorite color. Wow, as years pass my fashion sense is really going downhill. The sleeves of my uniform-like clothing are short which makes my situation even more uncomfortable. I see goosebumps on my arms. My cold-blooded self does not appreciate the serial killer dressing me up in my least favorite color and short sleeves. The only thing I do appreciate about this horrible outfit is that I am not wearing a bra. Thank you, serial killer. I am only able to tilt my head down slightly so I am unable to get the whole view of my existing parts. I see a glimpse of my stationary feet. Joy fills my heart.

I lay here in silence for a few years, or at least it feels like it. I am waiting for the criminal to walk in. In my head I am rehearsing his or her epic entrance and me pretending to be dead. This would ruin their moment and hopefully they would place me out on the sidewalk. This would be a perfect time to escape if my legs cooperate with me by then. Oh wait, or I could call my husband when I am released. Oh my God! I am so stupid. I can call my husband right now, if I have my phone. I search with my left hand because my right hand feels numb. All my efforts are in vain. A phone buzzes a few meters away. It feels like miles though because I know I can never reach it. Is that my phone? With squinting eyes I inspect the phone and it is indeed mine.

I am nervous because my phone is vibrating and it’s moving. Oh no! It’s getting closer to the edge. No, this cannot happen. I am not going to let my thousand dollar phone fall down and break into a tiny million pieces in front of my own eyes. I cannot bear that pain. It will definitely be a hundred times worse than the state I am in right now. While I am contemplating, my phone falls off the edge. My life pauses. My sweet baby makes a clap sound as it hits the ground.

It is not as dramatic as I imagine it to be. I thought that right before my phone would hit the ground, I would gain superman strength and speed and be able to save my sweet baby. Should I attempt hopelessly to get a hold of my phone? What if this is a trap like in those thriller movies where someone takes a call and a bomb blasts and the victim’s pieces go flying everywhere. Regardless of these scenarios that are ninety nine percent possible, I make an effort to get a hold of my phone. Again, all efforts are in vain. I lay in the soft foam, weak.

Suddenly I hear a sound, a voice. It’s coming from the door. I am scared. What if there are multiple people? It sounds like several people. It is a serial killer gang. I act dead as I lay in bed with one eye peeking at the open door. The footsteps get louder and louder. My heartbeat is directly proportional to the sound of the footsteps. As the steps near the unusually large looking space, my heart feels like it is going to tear out my chest. The footsteps get closer. I detect different voices, both masculine and feminine.

I always imagined a serial killer being an old grumpy guy, but look at how things are changing. Women are joining the game. The conversation between these people sounds like serious talk, no humor, no emotion. The sound of the footsteps slowly decreases and the voices gradually fade. Where are these people going? Oh, maybe they forgot the weapon they are going to use to kill me.

I keep thinking of more scenarios, but my mind is stuck on serial killers. I start losing my thoughts, the lights right above my face start to fade just like how everything fades away right at the end of a thriller movie. The only difference is that there is no background music playing while my eyes close. My eyes are completely shut now. Oh no, I am losing myself. I can feel myself going far far away.

I open my eyes to a familiar male figure. Who is this gorgeous man? Flashes of taking wedding photos with him pop in my head. It’s my husband. He is standing next to one other man and two short women wearing uniforms. The other man is wearing a flowy white long-sleeved coat. He looks wise and mature. He smiles in sync with my husband. The other two ladies look at me in awe. What are they looking at? There is definitely no sign of cuteness in my facial expression of confusion. I am more than relieved to see my love here coming to my rescue. Wait! Oh no! This is all planned. This can’t be true. My husband is a part of the serial killer gang. He can’t do this to me, not after all we have been through and all the vows we made to each other. He is a traitor, a traitor of love. He still looks gorgeous as hell. He smiles at me innocently, but deep down I know this is meant to be a vicious smile on a criminal's face that they give to a victim.

The two women start to make me feel very uncomfortable with their creepy stares and countless “awws”. Okay, I get it, I am cute, but they need to stop with the praising. My husband talks to his partner in crime, the other man in a very quiet manner. The man says, “She overcame pain that humans are physically incapable of taking. Congratulations, Sir!” Of course this pain is unbearable. He probably has my missing parts. Wow, he is congratulating my husband for carefully setting me up in this trap. But how could I not fall for him; love for him has made me blind. I plan in my head to quickly get out of this soft compressing foam and jump out the window. I am hoping that this is the ground floor. If not, oh well, at least it is better than being trapped in here with serial killers including my own husband!

As I thrust myself up, I feel heaviness on my right arm. I am unable to get out of the soft foamy substance to reach my husband’s hand. I slowly turn my head to see what weight is holding me down. Ah! There is a tiny little creature. I love animals and have researched so many, but never have I ever heard of this species. I want to brush off this creature off of my arm and go ahead with my plan, but something is pulling my interest. I pay close attention to its details. This tiny speck of nature takes long slow breaths in my arm. It has two black lines symmetrically proportioned from the middle of its face. There are two tiny black holes, oh, a nose! And tiny little rosy pink lips. It keeps licking its lips. I forget all about my escape plan and admire its beauty just as the two women did earlier. It seems to be sleeping, which I am glad because I would frighten this little creature by staring at it continuously. It has five toed paws. Its right paw wraps around the index finger of my right hand. I feel a feeling. It is stranger than love, more than love.

I suddenly feel a shiver starting from my shoulders and going down my spine. It’s almost like I woke up to reality. I look around and my husband’s face captures my attention. Without any words exchanged between the two of us, I smile, finally understanding what is going on. There is silence. The shorter woman, a nurse, with a dull blue piece of cloth covering her nose and mouth says “Aww, look, it’s her sweet baby.” I remember, about five months ago I said “My baby will be a fall chick”. Here they are now, fall and my baby.