Inescapable Escapism

My body felt less stiff as I walked back to the car. I could move a little easier, pain only gently nibbling at me rather than stabbing me. My stomach was perfectly full. The pasta has been exactly what I wanted and it was delicious. I was so glad that I’d ordered it. The salmon must have been good too because Mom barely even judged me for ordering dessert. She’d even ordered a lemon meringue tart too. I mean, she’d barely even touched it but I was surprised that she had ordered it.

I was so glad that I had ordered that chocolate brownie though. It was perfectly fudgy and dense, the top crackled and dry but not too dry. And the honeycomb ice cream that came with it? Wonderful. Delicious. I was almost asleep, my mind so content from the delicious meal. It had been so good that I’d barely even gone back into the other world.

I mean, I had ducked in from time to time but I didn’t stay for long. I was at my desk again, staring at the iPad. I’d been there every time I’d checked in. I couldn’t help it now. As my mom slowly drove along the long tree-lined drive, my mind reached out for the fantasy.

The iPad appeared in front of me and I looked at the screen blankly. I thought that going for a walk would have helped. Getting some fresh air and not being caged up for a little bit had to have helped, right? It didn’t. It somehow made things so much hard.

I was more restless now. I knew that the end was in sight, that in the morning I’d get off the bus and never have to set foot on it again hopefully, but that made it worse. I just wanted to get there. I just wanted to be there already. I could feel impatience thrumming through me, making me want to get up and run around or punch something. I didn’t know what to do with all of the restless energy that I had.

There was nothing that I could do, not really. I was locked in a tiny room. There wasn’t enough space to run or move around really. I was peddling, of course. My feet were moving constantly but that wasn’t helping, it wasn’t enough.

A sigh slipped out of my mouth and I closed the module I was reading. It should have interested me. I knew that a day ago it would have, it was giving me an introduction to weapons, but I just couldn’t focus. I just didn’t care about it which felt wrong.

My eyes, semi-glazed, slipped over the other available icons. I could learn about geography, politics, plants and poisons, physical fitness and more things but I just… didn’t feel any kind of spark of motivation or interest. My finger hovered over one of the icons, choosing at random more than anything else, but I couldn’t force myself to click on it.

With another sigh, my hand fell onto my lap. I didn’t want to read anymore. I didn’t want to watch any more videos or learn anything else. I just wanted to be done. Being trapped on the bus was almost as bad as being trapped in real life. Well, no, it wasn’t, but it was close.

I slipped my legs free of the pedals and stood up, stretching my arms out. I could almost touch both walls when I stretched. There wasn’t much extra room there. It was only just big enough for my bed, not much else.

I turned and stared at the space where my bed would lift out of the floor. I might as well just go to sleep. There was nothing stopping me. It was late enough, almost midnight. I could sleep and then maybe, when I woke up, I’d be there.

My lips twitched up in a slight smile as I slipped out of that world again. I didn’t want to be there whilst getting changed and using the toilet before bed. I knew that I had no other options on the bus but the knowledge that there were definitely cameras in the room watching me at all times as I got ready to sleep made me so uncomfortable.

I waited in reality, my eyes fixed on the world outside my window. It was starting to get dark out. The sun was already low in the sky and dusk had fallen over the rolling hills around us. It was beautiful in a way but maybe I was just too used to being trapped inside and I was finding being able to actually look out the window better than it was. I was tempted to roll down the window and breathe in the fresh air, something that I couldn’t do on the bus, but I knew that my mom would find it weird.

I reached out for the fantasy again, somehow knowing that I was finished getting ready, and returned just as the bed rose out of the floor. I watched it, feeling a hint of happiness flare within me. The bed was really comfy, much more comfortable than the bed I was sleeping on in real life. The duvet was thinner, a little bit too light, but the mattress was perfectly soft. There were no lumps or anything, no springs that jutted out and stabbed me. It was wonderful.

I climbed into it as soon as I could, slipping under the covers and feeling some of the tension slip out of me as I rolled towards the screen on the window. It was clear that it wasn’t real when I was that close to it. It felt a little off and something told me that, if the image was paused, I would be able to see the pixels. It was moving too fast for me to notice them now though.

I wasn’t sure where the video had been taken but it was pretty. The bus or car from the clip was weaving down a country road, the world dusky but not fully dark around it. Trees stretched up along the edge, their trunks coated with ivy and the space between them wild. Every so often, I got a flash of colour, a glimpse of wildflowers.

Being that close to it was making me a little travel sick though. As much as I wanted to just stare out the window and let my eyes become unfocused, I knew that it would make me sick. I rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling above me. It wasn’t enough though. I could still see the movement from the corner of my eye and that wasn’t helping.

Rolling all the way over, my gaze found my desk again. I couldn’t just stare at it all night until I finally managed to fall asleep. That would drive me insane. My mind couldn’t handle that, I knew it. But then I could go anywhere else, especially not in the fantasy. What if I went to a world that’s as horrifying as the world I went to with Aaron? Or what if I go back there? It could happen, right? I mean, there had been so many different versions of me, of Beth. What if I went back and woke up as someone else who was actually Beth?

Or what if she’s been me the whole time? Maybe there’s another me, in another world, who just continuously gets sucked into that world and there’s no escape. Or maybe, the Beths that go to that world and die there are all different. They were all me, all from different worlds.

That idea made me shudder and pulled a memory to the front of my mind. My dad wanted to call me Beth when I was born. I’d forgotten that but Dad had told me about it once. Apparently, Beth was the name they’d decided on, my great-grandmother or someone on my dad’s side was called Beth and he wanted to name me after her but then when I was born, my mom decided that Grace was a better fit for me for some reason. There wasn’t anyone in either of their families called Grace but my mom just liked it better.

A shiver rocked me so strongly that I was dragged back to reality, nausea clawing at me. My hand tightened on my phone, needing to grip something, as my mom continued to slowly crawl down the country lanes. I let my eyes flutter shut as I fought against the queasiness and the thought that tease my mind.

If I went back, if I purposely made my way back to that world, could I do something to break the loop so that Aaron isn’t trapped there forever being tormented by my death?

No. That was my immediate thought. I couldn’t and I knew that somehow. There was a certainty, somewhere deep within my heart, that told me I would never be able to break the curse, if that’s even what it was. No matter what I tried, no matter how much I fought, nothing would happen. I could run away, get as far as I could from that lake as possible, but I’d either just wake up back in that room above Amy’s or nothing would happen. I’d be trapped, running in circles, until I gave up and went back.

I’d tried before. I could remember that now but the memory was spotty, unsteady. I’d tried to fight it, I tried to walk away but it never lasted. Even when I knew that going into the lake would kill me, it found a way to tempt me in. Once, I saw Aaron out there, my Aaron, drowning. His cries were so desperate, so frantic, that I jumped in before I could stop myself.

Another time, it was Emma. She’d been my friend that time, we’d both worked together at Amy’s. I’d watched her drown, crying but convinced she’d come back. She didn’t. I’ve seen enough people drown in that lake to know that Aaron and I are the only ones that come back.

I’ve tried everything. I tried quitting the diner but no one remembered it the next day. I tried talking to Aaron, telling him that I remembered and that we could find a way to do this to escape but then the lake killed so many people that he loved… I couldn’t keep watching that. He held himself at arm’s length after that time. He barely even spoke to anyone. I think he was too scared of seeing them die again.

There was nothing I could do to help him, I knew that. I wanted to but I couldn’t. Nothing would ever help.

I felt myself pull out of the fantasy, hovering somewhere just in between reality and the dreams. I could feel the sway of my mom’s car as we wound along the road but I could also hear the soft buzz of the bus in the other world. That wasn’t enough though. I could feel my mind reaching out, searching for more. Being half in two worlds wasn’t enough for me, not anymore. I needed a world that I could exist in completely, one where I wasn’t just killing time or just about existing. I needed something more.

I could feel them. It felt like my mind brushed against hundreds of other worlds, sometimes hesitating for just a moment as I felt the unique sensation of dizziness wash over me, tasting it before deciding against it. None of the worlds felt right. I wasn’t sure what would feel right to me but it wasn’t any of them. I was looking for something, searching for a specific sensation, but I couldn’t find it.

Nothing was right.

Disappointment washed through me and I blinked, staring out into the darkness of the fields that surrounded the road. It was much darker now. I hadn’t noticed night fall quite so quickly. We must have almost been home but there was no way of knowing, not in the darkness. The fields stretched out around us, there were no signs, nothing that even hinted where we were.

I felt my eyebrows draw together as I noticed a light, somewhere out there in the distance. It was moving quickly, a little too quickly. It looked like whoever was holding it was running. My heart leapt as dizziness reached out and seized me, dragging me away. I let it though. It was the right kind of dizziness.

I slumped back in my seat as vertigo hit me, the hard wooden pew sending pain ricocheting through my already aching back. My fingers were laced together but I squeezed them tightly, trying to regain control. I sucked in a tight breath, the air tasting musty yet familiar.

I had no clue where I was, that was my first realisation. My second was that I was in a wedding dress. I stared down at myself blankly, sure that I was wrong. It was a white dress with a corset that dug into my ribs uncomfortably with every breath. It was so tight and it pushed my chest up, making it look like I had a much better figure than I did. It wasn’t worth it though. I would much rather be able to breathe than look like I had a large chest.

I was barefoot too. My feet dangled, not quite touching the floor. That felt wrong. Surely, I should wear shoes when I’m getting married, if that’s even what’s happening. Don’t people normally wear shoes? I mean, I’d not really been to any wedding that I could remember but surely they did. I feel like I would have heard about it if they didn’t.

I looked up, still baffled. The thick veil obstructed my view slightly and made it harder to lift my head but I could still see enough. That didn’t help my confusion though. I was sitting in the front row of a church with a line of other girls also wearing wedding dresses. They were all barefoot and wearing heavy veils like mine but their dresses were all unique. Not a single girl was looking up at the man at the front of the church, standing behind the pulpit. They were all staring down at their clasped hands, their heads bowed and their bodies still.

No one else was looking around like I was but one of the others was moving. Her shoulders were rising and falling in jerky movements. She was crying.

Why was she crying? Did she not want to get married? I didn’t either, not really, but I didn’t know what was going on and surely that girl did. Maybe that was why she was crying. She knew what was happening and who she was marrying. She looked young though, younger than me for sure. That felt wrong. Surely she couldn’t be getting married, she was only twelve or thirteen.

I looked back at the man standing at the front of the church again. His lips were moving. He was talking, his hands waving around with an impassioned, almost fervour, expression on his face. I couldn’t hear him though. I had no clue what he was saying. I couldn’t hear anything. Was I deaf in this world?

I strained my ears, trying to pick out any kind of sound before shaking my head slightly. A rustling noise sounded close to my ears and I lifted a hand to touch the thick material that surrounded my head and face. There were two pieces to it. The veil and something tighter that covered my ears.

It was intentional. They didn’t want us to be able to hear whatever was being said. I reached towards the part covering my ears, intending to pull it out of the way so that I could hear, but something sharp prodded me hard in the back.

I turned, my eyes landing on the severe-looking man behind me who was dressed in all black. His expression made me want to look away, to turn meekly back towards the front of the church but I refused. I allowed myself to duck my chin slightly, my gaze sliding past him to examine the rest of the people in the church.

It was bigger than I expected but thin. There was only enough space for five or six people on each row of the pews with a small aisle between the two sides. The other people were seated away from us though. There was a gap of a few rows between the brides and the rest of the people with empty spaces between us apart from a few sporadically spaced men in black robes. Maybe they were leaving room for the grooms? Or maybe the grumpy old men were the grooms. Maybe that’s why that other girl was crying.

I fought the urge to smirk. I was being ridiculous and I knew it. The grumpy men were priests or something, clearly. They were probably there to make sure we did as we were meant to, whatever that was, and to make sure that the other people didn’t get too close to us. My eyes found the people who weren’t in wedding dresses again. They looked weird. They were thin, gaunt almost, and they were watching the man at the front of the church with an almost hungry look on their faces.

One of them, a man, must have felt my gaze on his face because his eyes found mine. There was a moment, a brief moment, where he stared at me before fear flitted across his features and he looked away quickly. That confused me. Why would he be scared of me?

The others seemed to be too. Now that I had noticed it, I could see it. People were carefully not looking at me or the other brides but every so often, when they thought they could get away with it, their eyes would dart towards us. Whenever their gaze met mine, their eyes would widen and their faces would flush.

Were they scared of me or were they not allowed to look at us?

I was so distracted by that thought that I didn’t notice the priest approaching behind me again. His hand darted out, stabbing me in the back with his pointy finger. I didn’t turn though. I knew that I should have but I didn’t want to. I lifted my chin, the heavy veil hurting my neck now, and glared at him.

He didn’t seem surprised. Maybe we knew each other already or maybe he was just used to brides being defiant. His sharp fingers dug into my shoulders and he forcibly turned me around so that I was facing forwards again. I jumped as an ice-cold foot found my leg and stared up at the girl next to me.

Her eyes were fixed on her hands, which were clutched together in her lap just like mine. Her expression was perfectly pious but her foot, hidden under the skirt of her long dress and shielded from view of the strict men behind us, was pressed against my leg in a silent show of solidarity and support. I glanced at her face again. I was wrong. I had thought that she was perfectly submissive and accepting of whatever was happening to us but there was a fire burning in her eyes. She was furious.

That confused me. I still had no clue what was happening but now, I searched for clues. My eyes scanned the church, trying to work it out, before landing on the giant stained glass at the front of the room. Light was barely shining through it which made it hard to see properly. It wasn’t illuminated on the inside particularly well either.

Huh.

I looked around quickly, my eyebrows pulling together in confusion. There were no lights. The church was lit with candles. In fact, I continued scanning the room and ignoring the ache in my neck, there were no wires or electricity that I could see anywhere. That was weird. Was it normal for there to be nothing electric or modern in a church? I wasn’t sure. I’d only been to church a couple of times with my school. My mom didn’t like religion, I’m not sure why because she’d never explained it, but she made a point for us to never go to church.

I wasn’t sure why though. Her parents were kind of religious. I’m not sure if they actually believed or if they just went to church during major religious holidays and events because that was what was expected of them. Maybe they did it so that they could use religion to make themselves feel better than others. That wouldn’t surprise me. Or maybe it was to impose even more rules on their kids and judge them for not sticking to impossible standards. I’m not sure what the reason was but it meant I was unprepared and didn’t know what was normal.

Staring at the stained glass window, however, I realised that something was not normal. My head cocked to the side as I tried to take it in and work out what was happening. It showed a man standing on a crudely built wooden stage, his arms spread wide with fires burning behind him, but he was only addressing one person. There was a woman on the dirt in front of the stage.

She was dressed in white, just like we were. Her hands were laced in front of her and, from what I could tell, her eyes were shut. It looked like a light was shining on her face. She looked peaceful, happy. The image made relief wash through me but I wasn’t sure why. Something told me that I had stared at that very picture of the woman many times. I felt like it was giving me strength, even if I didn’t remember anything about her or this world.

It was weird, I should have. Normally, when I went to a new world, I could remember things straight away about my life there but here it was hard. The memories felt like they were locked away behind a gate or something. I could remember snippets, parts of my life but nothing more. There were faint memories of me walking through a dorm full of beds, of sitting in church, of being in a classroom with a chalkboard and one of the men dressed in the long black robes standing at the front and lecturing us on… something, but I couldn’t remember anything more.

Was it intentional? Was the me of this world suppressing my memories? Or my access to them? Why would she? Could she even, intentionally or subconsciously? I really didn’t know but there had to be something, there had to be some reason why I couldn’t remember anything.

“Are you planning to leave the car?” my mom asked sharply.

I blinked, quickly returning to reality and looking around the dark car. We were sitting in the drive at my grandparent’s house but I had no clue how long we’d been there.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” I said quickly, glancing at my mom who was sitting next to me still.

Her seatbelt was undone and she was looking at me expectantly. I hurried to unbuckle mine too and started to climb out of the car. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked towards the front door but I was already slipping back into the fantasy.