Monday, August 22, 2011

What Do I Do Now?

I came back yesterday morning in a small room. Gray tile floor. White walls. Door with no handle. Fluorescent lights on the ceiling. Big mirror on the wall. I've seen movies. Knew it looked like an interrogation room.

Waved to the mirror. No response. Walked over and knocked on it. Voice came through a speaker on the wall over the mirror. Didn't notice it before. A man's voice, and all it said is my old name. The one I had when I was a person.

It's weird. I should have been surprised, confused, nervous. But I wasn't. Sort of expected something like this to happen eventually. They'd catch me, find out who I had been, find all the things He did with me. Then they'd try to bring me to court. I'd be told to get a lawyer. Wouldn't really need one. Already have a man-shaped thing in a suit on my case.

Anyway, I shook my head. Pretended to be confused. That's when it stopped being what I expected. He turned the light on in his room, and I could see him. Middle-aged, salt-and-pepper hair, broad shoulders, rugged face. No uniform, just a suit. He had a folder on the desk in front of him, and he took some newspaper clippings out. Started reading one. It was about a fire. A fire that killed my father in July.

My reaction was enough for him to confirm who I was. He nodded. Said he understood why I had lied. Said he knew about my situation. Said he knew my father. Worked with him. Was there when he died. Said the fire was His doing.

I hardly knew my father. He left when I was still a toddler. I know what he looked like, but only from pictures. He always sent me birthday cards, never with a return address. My mother said he worked for the CDC. I don't know if he was on that road in my nightmare. He should have been, near the end at least.

As the man behind the glass started to explain how it happened, the light in his room shut off and his voice was cut off by static. I felt dizzy and nauseous. Had to lean on the wall. I knew He had come. After a few minutes, the feeling that He was near went away. I knocked on the window again. No response. I was trapped.

So I slept. Nothing else I could do. Nobody came all day. No wi-fi in that room either. I hoped He wouldn't just let me starve to death in there. And my hopes were answered. Obviously, or I wouldn't be posting this.

But He didn't keep His part of the deal. My father shouldn't be dead. And there's nothing I can do about it.


  1. One advantage of you condition, I doubt any cell will hold you for long once Tall, Dark and Slender's hours come around.

    Good Luck Atalanta

  2. How would he know it was His doing? Don't believe everything they say, doll. Be careful.

  3. Wow. Thank you, Dia. You're right. The guy could've been lying. Never saw the newspaper article. Don't even know my father's name was there.

    Makes more sense that way. He didn't kill the man to cover up His actions. He killed him because he was lying. Trying to fool me into doing something dumb. Almost worked too.

  4. People will use those we care about to try and trick us, going so far as to lie and forge evidence to get what they want. My advice, find a way to call your father or get someone else to check on him. He's normally good about keeping his half of the bargain.

  5. Don't have his number. Don't think I've even spoken to him. No more than baby talk. No clue where he even lives. From what my mother said, he moves around a lot for his job. Probably not as much as I do now, though.