Stuck

My downstairs neighbour greeted me politely, and I screamed in her face. She was a nice enough lady, I'm sure. Didn't deserve that. In my defense, I was freaked out, and starting to unravel.

I don't know how I got here, and I have no idea how to get back.

Last night, I went to bed, like normal. I kissed Jana goodnight, and wrapped my arms round her. She pushed me away, and I sighed, and rolled over, and went to sleep.

That's it. That's all. I swear.

This morning, I woke up in a strange bed in an empty flat. Everything was nicer than back home, neater. It felt like a TV set. The sort of place where you make yourself small and perch on the edge of seats.

There were keys to the front door in my pocket, though. I seriously considered the possibility I'd gone mad. Maybe what I was thinking of as "home" and "real life" was just a dream I dreamed?

With nothing better to do, I decided to go for a walk. Get a feel for the area. It seemed as sane as anything else I could have done.

Now I think about it, I don't even remember what my neighbour said. Something ordinary and polite like hello or good morning. She was wearing a pale pink coat, and her dark hair curled close to her head. Flat brown shoes, and thick ankles. Very normal looking, if not very stylish. Normal, that is, if you didn't look at her face.

How to describe her face? I can't really. It was a shock alright, seeing that blurry round blob between her squidgy neck and black hair.

I fair flew back up the stairs to the flat, only for her to follow me.

"Are you okay?" she called through the door.

I peeked out of the peephole at her and flinched away, slamming the bolts home.

"Leave me alone!" I shouted. "Please!" I added, because I'm not a monster.

"Are you sure, sir? You seem ever so upset. can I get you anything? Some soup or something?"

"No!" I squeaked over my shoulder. I was leaning on the door by now. My voice came out quite strangled. I sounded as mad as I felt.

*

Now I pace the little flat like a cage. Does she know her face is like that? Poor woman probably can't help it. Or maybe her face is fine, and it's my eyes that are wrong. That's not comforting.

There's food in the kitchen. I toast myself a cheese sandwich, and then carefully wipe up the crumbs and wash the plate. I want to cackle, give in to hysteria, and instead I'm sitting at the little formica table, eating cheese.

I pace some more.

I take to curtain twitching. The people around look like regular people. That man mowing his lawn. A lady walking her four Daschunds. Somebody across the street watching TV. A couple of gender-nondescript kids in hoodies slouch past. It's Saturday. Is it Saturday? I'm not sure.

I watch the lady downstairs go and get into her blue Ford Ka and drive away.

Now is my chance. Keys still in my pocket, I scurry out, furtive, hoping not to run into any more freakish residents.

They're all like it.

Well. Not all. Some are more clearly defined than others, but most have these blurry blobs where their faces should be. I'm more unnerved than ever, but nobody is actually threatening me. Deep breaths, then, try to calm myself.

Something occurs, and it feels like something coalescing, and then freezing in my belly. I glance around for a reflective surface, and then freeze, afraid I might actually see one, and not sure if I'm brave enough to look initif did.

What the hell is going on, and how do I get home?

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Thank you for reading!