Monday, August 13, 2007

Another early post.

I'm having a bit of a bad day.

The first bad experience was a visual hallucination I had on my lunch break today. It wasn't frightening so much as it was confusing. I had decided that I'd go out to eat to a nearby diner that I've heard nothing but praise for. I walk in, sit at the counter, and get ready to order when I spot a man sitting alone in a corner booth who seems to be staring at me. I'm about to ignore him and order a sandwich when I realize that he looks just like me. Well, except for two things. He seems a bit older than me, and he's wearing an oil-stained, green jacket that I would never wear. Other than that, we were exact doubles.

Eventually, I think I made him feel awkward or something because he forced himself to look away from me and quietly continued to sip down coffee.

Okay, so either I've encountered someone who just looks like me or I'm having a relatively boring hallucination. Either way, it didn't seem like a huge deal. I order my sandwich, and as I'm eating it, he finishes his coffee and gets up to leave. Trying to remain as subtle as possible, I make a slight turn in the position in my seat. I just wanted to get a good, close glance of his face. He moves quickly, but I'm still able to get a good look at him. The age difference is much more noticeable but so are our practically uncountable similarities. He gets out the door, and I'm about to turn back around when I notice something: casually, as if it's his own, he gets into my truck.

I've been driving the truck a lot lately. I figure its best to familiarize myself with it and hopefully recover memories of it.

So he gets into my truck, pulls out his own keys, starts it, and drives off. Now, the impact of the situation hasn't really got to me. I'm just sort of staring with a dull, open-mouthed expression on my face. Once it fully hits me, I get up and chase after the truck as it drives out of the parking lot. Realizing I am completely incapable of catching it myself, I go back inside and pull out my mobile phone.

I consider calling the police but decide it best to call home first. A couple of employees seem to be staring at me, but I don't care. At home, nobody answers.

At this moment, I notice my truck is still sitting in the parking lot in the exact same spot I had originally parked in. I pay for the sandwich, have it put in a doggie bag, and call into work to tell them I've become ill. I check the truck for any irregularities and then try to make it home as quickly as possible.

The first thing I notice when I walk into my home is the silence. I know I'm alone. I start to panic and call out names when I wander into the kitchen and spot a note on the fridge.

"R*****

went shopping with girls for school clothes

sammy called at 11 but I missed him"

This greatly relieves me. I sit down, try to remember who Sammy is, and head off to my study to try and get some independent work done on the computer. Heading upstairs, I remember something that horrifies me: my wife's car is sitting in our driveway. I check the garage, and my car's sitting in there. What's even more worrisome is that the truck is the only vehicle we ever keep in the driveway. It's like my wife's car was taken out of the garage and then abandoned.

Once again, I consider calling the police, but I don't trust my memory or visions enough to overcome my fear of possible humiliation.

Hoping there was a problem with her car and that she had a friend pick her up, I get on the computer and try to distract myself.

I open my email and find yet another message from our mystery friend. No pictures this time, just a paragraph of text:

"Why do you like to play pretend so much? Weren't you angry? Didn't somebody need to stand up and do something? Why were you so quiet? You always appear so accepting of your reality but you can't forget what's been done to you. She took it all away. It wasn't her fault. . . she was a victim too. She broke you. Don't you remember how hard it was for him to breathe? He was sick. The hospital. A slick road. You were drowning in it. Little Boy Blue lost. You were drowning in that black mud. Why didn't anyone help? You were screaming for hours and when they finally found you and they fixed you but they broke you. They took you into darkness and gave you a light of their own.

You're making it worse. You're a sideshow freak. I tell you this every year. Don't you remember my phone calls? Don't you remember me? I'm the only person who's ever looked out for you. You owe me to at least pay attention. Your wife will be home soon. Everyone's okay. Listen to me. I am not a threat. I am not a joke. I wasn't. You know very well you're not real. You're going to break their hearts."

I have been sitting here for about an hour. I am waiting for my family to come home. I will still give the person who's been sending me these things a chance to step forward because I am a man of my word. If he does not, I will have to reveal it here.

That's all for now.

2 comments:

Sartor said...

Do you remember what time you called home from the diner? Is it possible your wife mistook your call for "Sammy's?"

Maybe when she comes home you can ask her about this fellow. I can understand your fear of embarrassment, but wouldn't it help to get an outside observation from someone you trust?

R.F. said...

I called a little after noon. As you can recall, Sammy called around eleven in the morning.

I've had a stressful night, but I imagine I'll be asking her about him sometime during the day.