I do not know how I got here. One minute, I was living my life; helping my cousin move. The next minute my life has gone to hell. I am currently or once was standing in this sterile room, that reeks of death, looking down at the mangled corpse they say belongs to Pete, my cousin’s fiancé. I can recall seeing the people in the room speaking to me, but I hear nothing but the rush of blood to my ears and my heart beating so quickly in my chest, it feels like it will burst. If Pete is or was in this morgue what happened to Christine? That question has replayed in my head since I saw the body.
I keep asking myself, in hopes I will understand what is happening. How long have they been missing? Am I missing? These are the questions that usually follow when I try to remember.
The one thing I could not understand that day is why they kept saying they have had Pete’s body there for weeks? I mean I know I cannot remember exactly when all this happened, but I know that day they kept saying weeks. I feel like I was losing my mind even then. I knew we left California a few days before I walked into that police station and that morgue. I remember the sunshine and the cool breezes. I even remember laughing with Christine as she shared with me the news of her pregnancy. And yet when I came into that police station to report them missing, they brought me to identify this body that they said had been unclaimed. John Doe, they said had a tattoo matching what I had described Pete having. And because of that, I ended up in the morgue looking at a mangled corpse. I ended up being questioned by the cops because I claimed I was with them days before. The police ultimately believed I was suffering from some traumatic break due to something that happened to me; my mind unable to handle this event had me think that the weeks had only been days. No one could back my story and the sheriff; John offered to help me find out what exactly happened to me.
If I am honest, I am not sure if I was ever there. It feels real, but it also feels like someone else’s dream. This also could have been days ago or weeks ago. I honestly cannot tell anymore. I am losing time or losing my mind. It is the only explanation for the way I feel now because the more I try to remember, the more I forget. The one thing I do know is real is that whatever is happening, this all began in California that one happy day.
But what it was has left me. It has left me with more questions than answers. I remember figuring it all out at one point. That man John, the one I believe was sheriff in this town had helped me until he stopped helping and turned on me.
I do not remember how he turned on me because it is all hazy. Like a distant dream. It comes in bits and pieces ready for me to grab on to it, but it disappears as fast as it happens. A memory or a dream, a wish or a hope; I cannot say what it is anymore, but I know some of it all feels so real. Up until I met him my choices and, in that police station meeting him, I have sealed my fate somehow. I really cannot remember how it sealed my fate, but each time I think of it I feel that this trip ruined me. I recall thinking that I hated my cousin when I learned about my fate but why I would hate her is beyond me. She was missing and my only family so why hate her for it.
John was supposed to be helping me find her so why would I hate her for that? He led me here not her. And yet, I feel like she was what brought me here. That if I had said no to helping her, I would not be in this mess. But even that feels like a lie.
I am in this room, that smells like death. A smell much like the one in that room I was in days ago or yesterday or even weeks ago but without the sterile feel. This place feels sinister. I wish I knew how I got here or when I was in that other one room of death. But I do know this room like that one feel like death, and for me, this one feels final for me. Like this is the end of the line. I know somehow I will not leave here but there is nothing I can see that should make me feel like that. I know that I still have a chance to wake up and run, but if I do leave, it will be as a shell of the me I once was. I don’t get how this happened or why I am here. I remember bits that make it feel like my life is flashing before my eyes.
Whatever is happening to me though, it is rooted in my mind, in a world created for me. Moments like John telling me not to look in their eyes or get out of the car at night if I see them feel like they are fake and this place feels so real. And yet, I find myself thinking that I have it wrong, that I am seeing it backward. Why? Why does John feel more real to me than this place I am sitting? Did he not turn on me? Is my demise not related to him? The more I try to think of him; the fuzzier things are getting.
It is like a spell has been cast on me trying to make me remember some other life or some particular person but maybe that is just wishful thinking on my part. By trying to remember what happened before, I am slowly losing my grip on reality. I know I was supposed to be hanging on to that reality, but I wanted to remember one last time. And because of that, I have made myself lose my mind. I do know I feel half awake and half asleep; sleepwalking to death right this moment and if I do not even try to remember, I will die soon. I do not remember why.
The John that was not John had said they had plans for us and that if we were good, we would get a gift. I am not sure I wanted whatever he is or was giving, but he seemed to think imply it is the best gift I could ever receive. I think he told me once what it was, but he uses something on me when I do not behave, and I start to forget. And when I start to remember again, I can never tell if I am lost in a dream or if I am awake. I wish I could understand more. I was never put with other people so I must not have obeyed his wishes or theirs. I have been alone as long as I have been in this room. Maybe that is why I am losing my mind. Whatever they are using to make me forget paired with being alone mean I have no one to tell me how much time has passed when I pass out.
He said once that if I gave in, I could be with the others. I could see the one I long to see. And yet I do not remember exactly who that is. Does he mean Christine or the John that is not him? Or is there someone else? The John’s look the same, but I know that they are somehow not the same. I need to fight harder to remember, and I think that means I need to go back to what I last remember as being true. If I want to get out of here alive, that is my only chance.