Inescapable Escapism

I sat up abruptly, confusion washing through me. Where was I? I looked around the room but that didn’t help me at all. My surroundings were familiar enough but something about them just felt… wrong.

There were people on the walls, pictures, looking down at me. They were all looking at me. And they were dressed strangely. The men were wearing tight clothes, made of strange fabrics that I’d never seen before, and the women were barely dressed. Some of the men were barely dressed too but the women were worse.

I stared at the one nearest me, a man who seemed to be peering into my soul, confusion rushing into me. I recognised it, of course I did. I was in my usual room at my grandparent’s, the one that my uncle had lived in growing up. The pictures were the same as they had always been.

Sitting up, I tried to shrug off some of that feeling of wrongness. I could still feel it, the claws dug deep into my brain, but it was easy enough to dismiss or excuse. I was just being silly or half asleep or something.

Even so, I found myself eyeing the pictures distrustingly as I picked out my clothes for the day and rushed across the hallway to the bathroom. I didn’t want to feel their eyes on my body as I got undressed even though I was used to it. There was something about it that just made me uncomfortable. It didn’t normally but maybe I’d just never really looked at them properly before. Whatever the reason, I was a lot more comfortable changing into the dress I’d grabbed in the bathroom.

I pulled my hair up into a bun that perched high on my head and stared at my reflection before slowly lifting my chin. The expression on my face took me by surprise. I’m not sure what it was but there was something to it. A hardness in my eyes, maybe. I stared back unwavering and unscared.

That was unusual for me. I mean, I wasn’t usually scared to look at myself in the mirror. I didn’t do it too often, obviously, but it was fine when it happened. I mean, I looked alright generally. I didn’t particularly hate how I looked, even though my mom was right. I didn’t work out as much as I should have and didn’t eat consistently enough. I wasn’t particularly toned or thin. I didn’t have some of my classmates or sisters had, I kind of was just… normal. I wasn’t anything special to look at but that was fine.

I’m not sure that I’d like someone to look at me anyway. I didn’t like it, not really. I mean, sometimes I did. Sometimes seeing the way someone’s gaze lingered on me made me feel almost excited but most of the time it just made me want to hurry away. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I had someone who truly wanted to look at me or even touch me like I did in my fantasies sometimes.

The concept of that scared me, if I was being honest. I’m not sure what it was about it that made me feel so uncomfortable and uneasy but it definitely did. Not that it mattered anyway. There wasn’t really anyone in real life who would look at me like that or that I’d want to.

Or maybe there was. I mean, there was someone who I noticed looked at me a little bit too long sometimes but I doubted there was anything more to it than they just… did. Even so, my hand hesitated over my phone as I started to collect my things to leave the bathroom.

I could text him. It didn’t need to be anything more than just a text, it could be completely innocent. But it didn’t need to be. It could be something much, much more. Maybe even a photo.

I pushed that idea from my mind, unsure where it even came from. That wasn’t me. I didn’t do things like that and the idea of sending a suggestive photo to anyone, regardless of who, was a terrible idea. Plus, he might not want that. I had never spoken to him about anything even remotely racy so it wouldn’t be right.

I chewed on my lip as I stared at my phone. I could just send him a text. Normally he was the one who texted me first but I could do it this time. It felt so weird to me but it shouldn’t have. It didn’t need to be as big of a deal as I was making it sound.

Hey, I typed quickly, hitting send before I could change my mind.

That was stupid, I immediately realised. I couldn’t just text him and say hello. That was so weird. I needed to add something more, something less… stupid.

How’s your summer going? I added and sent.

My heart was beating too quickly, I was nervous. I shouldn’t have been but I was. There was no need. He was just a friend. I had done nothing more than text a friend a completely normal question. We’d texted before. I’d sent him hundreds, if not more texts.

I locked my phone and slid into one of the surprisingly big pockets on my dress and glanced in the mirror one more time before leaving the bathroom. I dropped my dirty clothes in my room before padding quietly down the hallway towards the stairs.

The carpet was hard beneath my feet. I’m not sure why I noticed that but I did. It was replaced fairly often but it was clear that its main purpose was for appearances, not comfort. My grandparents cared more about how it looked rather than how comfortable or warm it was. Or maybe they just didn’t notice. They always wore shoes inside. My grandmother was always in those designer perfectly-appropriate heels, whilst my grandfather wore polished lace-up shoes every day. It wouldn’t surprise me if they even went to bed in them.

A smirk came over my face but I pushed it away quickly. If my mom saw, she’d ask questions. I didn’t like wearing shoes inside. Socks either. There was something weird about it to me but I’m not sure why. I didn’t like the feeling of it, maybe? Or maybe it just felt unsanitary to me. I mean, you wear shoes outside so surely you’re just traipsing mud about? Even if you couldn’t see it, it still had to be unhygienic.

“Good morning,” my mom said without looking up from her book as I entered the kitchen.

“Morning,” I replied, looking around the room.

Normally, there was breakfast already on the table, leftover from whenever she’d eaten earlier in the day, but not this time.

“I went into town this morning and picked up some bread from the bakery,” she said, seemingly noticing my confusion. “It’s in the pantry.”

“Oh, right. Thank you.”

I started across the room towards the pantry, grabbing the bread and taking it back out into the kitchen. I could feel my mom’s eyes on me as I moved but I ignored it, focusing instead on making myself some toast and buttering it. It wasn’t until I placed my plate on the table and slid into the chair that she spoke.

“You look nice,” she said but it sounded more like an accusation.

“Thank you,” I replied, meeting her gaze.

I didn’t hold it for long though. The toast was calling me. I sliced it into triangles quickly before picking one up and biting into it. The bread was deliciously fresh and the butter was so rich. It was better than anything I’d eaten in so long, better than what I was used to, and I had to hold back a happy sigh.

“You’re wearing a dress.”

I longed to say something sarcastic or to roll my eyes but I resisted.

“I am.”

Her eyes narrowed as I picked up another triangle and eat it, savouring the taste.

“Why?” she asked, her tone sharp and filled with suspicion.

I lifted a shoulder as I chewed slowly, my eyes finding hers again.

“I wanted to,” I said, stubbornness immediately building within me. “It was the first thing I grabbed.”

She examined me closely, searching for any sign that I was lying. I wasn’t though. I truly hadn’t put that much thought into it, I just grabbed whatever I wanted to and decided to wear that but I knew she saw it as more than that. She probably assumed that I was wearing it to impress someone, that I was planning on sneaking out or meeting up with someone.

I wasn’t, obviously. Who would I meet up with?

“And you just happened to grab that dress?” she asked, her eyebrow arched.

“Yup,” I replied, standing and walking over to the tap to pour myself some water. “I like it.”

I could feel the tension building in the room even though it was over something so minor, so unnecessary. My mom just didn’t trust me. She didn’t believe that I could wear something pretty just because I wanted to, she always thought that I had to be wearing it to impress someone else.

That thought kind of made me sad. I think it told me more about her than I’d realised before that point. I don’t think she ever did anything because she wanted to or because it made her happy. It was always about how others would think of her and feel about her which meant it was never truly about her. That was a strange realisation.

“It’s a bit plain,” she said with a sniff, looking back at her book. “And it’s the wrong shape for you. It makes it look like you don’t have a waist.”

My smile faltered as my confidence deserted me and I looked down at myself. The dress was a little shapeless. It pulled in around my waist but not much. Not enough. I did look bigger in it and not in a good way.

But did that matter? I was comfortable in the dress so surely it didn’t. I had looked in the mirror and not disliked how I looked so I would continue to wear the dress, even if I longed to run upstairs and rip it off.

I downed my glass of water before refilling it and returning to the table, determination starting to build in me again. I wasn’t sure why I was feeling like that or even what I was determined to do but there was something, some resolve that I wasn’t used to feeling.

“What are you going to do today?” my mom asked as she reached out for her coffee.

“I’m not sure,” I said honestly before an idea fluttered into my head. A mean but tempting idea. “I might go for a run, I think.”

I knew that it would arouse her suspicion, I did, and that’s why I did it. It worked. She looked up at me sharply.

“A run?” she repeated.

“Yeah. Just a nice run through the woods out back,” I replied, taking a long sip of my drink. “That will be fun.”

“Fun?” my mom said.

“Yeah, I think so. I enjoy going for runs.”

I could almost see my mom’s brain working furiously to try and determine if there was something more to my words than what I was saying. I knew that she would be suspicious, that she would assume the worst but I wasn’t sure what that was. She’d assume I was with a boy probably. Maybe doing something with him or drinking. Perhaps doing drugs.

“Will you be wearing that dress out for your run?” she asked, putting so much emphasis on the word, as if trying to tell me that she knew I was up to something.

I should have answered normally. I should have just said no and nothing more but my mouth moved before my brain could stop me.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t want it to get dirty.”

The moment the words were out of my mouth, I froze. Before then, my words could have been innocent but poorly chosen however I knew that I’d made it sound much worse than it was. I mean, I wouldn’t wear the dress to go out for a run, obviously, but I was pushing it too far.

Something had gotten into me. I wasn’t sure what it was exactly but I felt so much bolder and more confident. I was brasher, angrier. It almost reminded me of…

My phone buzzed in my pocket, cutting my thought trail off immediately as anxiety jumped within me. Was it him?

“I think it’s going to rain today,” my mom announced. “I would stay inside if I were you.”

It was an order, not a suggestion. She was telling me not to go out for a run and that just made me want to do it more but my mind was consumed by my phone in my pocket. I wanted to pull it out and read the message straight away but I knew that I couldn’t. Not in front of my mom.

There was too strong a possibility that she would demand to see my phone and, even though I was sure that the text would be completely innocent, it wasn’t worth it. I finished eating my toast quickly, trying not to make it seem like I was running, before standing and taking the plate to the dishwasher.

“Are you going out now?” my mother asked.

“No,” I replied quickly. “I’ll wait a while until my breakfast digests, I’ll get a stitch otherwise. I’m probably just going to go upstairs and read for a bit or something.”

She didn’t bother answering me but I could feel her eyes on me as I left the kitchen again. As soon as I was out in the corridor, I felt my posture sag. Relief washed through me that I was no longer having to interact with my mom and I could just relax for a bit.

I glanced over my shoulder, checking to make sure that she wasn’t following me, before pulling my phone out of my pocket and reading the text.

Hey! It’s good but this hangover might kill me. I need to stop drinking straight spirits. Or maybe stick to just spirits. Ella made a mystery drink last night that had wine in it. I don’t even think anyone brought wine, Duncan had texted. How bout there? How’s yours?

I smiled slightly and started to reply before hesitating. I think it was his mention of Ella. She was into him and I knew that she’d probably spent the whole night flirting with him painfully obviously. I wasn’t sure if that made me jealous or what the emotion was but I was definitely feeling something.

Ahahah that bad? I typed, trying to work out what else to say. Maybe you should just give up on mystery drink, when is it ever good? It’s alright here, kind of boring. I’m looking forwards to being back.

I hesitated before hitting send. Was I moaning too much? It felt like it. I should write something else, something that didn’t make me sound so boring. Or… I could change the last bit and say that I was looking forwards to seeing him again, some sly part of my brain added.

I shook my head. I couldn’t say that. It was too forwards, too much. The message was fine. I sent it and continued along the corridor to my room, shutting the door behind me and dropping onto my bed as my phone buzzed again.

Give up on mystery drink? I could never! Like, half the time it’s great! Do you remember that time we made green mystery drink and it was so good? Man, I might try and get some more midori and sours for when you’re back and we can recreate that. I’m glad it’s not too horrible there!

His words made me snort softly. I did remember that one he was talking about. It had happened about a year ago, towards the end of the summer. I’d put off going to his parties for as long as possible but I started to feel bad. It had been pretty good actually. Not too many people had gone and it was the first time Phoebe and I had found a way out onto the garage roof. It was a nice night and Liam had been mixing the drinks. He was the only one who made something drinkable.

I read the message again, my eyebrows drawing together. He’d said that ‘we’ could recreate the drink. Did he mean just me and him or ‘we’ as in a whole party? I really wasn’t sure. Part of me wanted him to mean just the two of us but I knew that he probably didn’t mean that.

Thanks :) That would be fun! I typed, only semi-meaning it. If it was just the two of us, it would be fun because I always had fun with him but if it was any more… I wasn’t so sure. That one was delicious. Much better than that brown mystery drink you made.

I stared at my sent message, regretting what I had written. It sounded rude, insulting rather than playful which is what I meant. I wanted to tease him, to joke around, but it came across wrong. I had just started to type an apology when another text came through.

Okay, that was terrible but in my defence, I said it was bad! You still drank it so I feel like that’s more on you than on me, he said.

I mean… you have a point, I sent back.

Exactly! But then again, I drank it too so… his message read.

I laughed softly, biting my lip and trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation going. I had nothing but luckily, three dots began bouncing on the screen, telling me that he was typing something.

Urgh, I have to go to training, he wrote. But, I’ll update my calendar. 15th august, video game date with grace - now with green mystery drink! Are you still down for that?

Confusion washed through me as I stared at his message before I remembered what he’d said the day before I’d left for Scotland. He’d made a goofy joke about putting a video game date in his calendar for when I got back but I hadn’t thought anything of it. I’d dismissed it and assumed he was joking but… what if he wasn’t? What if he meant it as like… a date date?

No. He didn’t, he was just calling it a date but meant just a hang out, nothing more or romantic. I knew that but it still made me a little disappointed.

Yeah, sounds good, I replied, adding a laughing emoji.

You’ll be back from Scotland then? he messaged quickly.

I think so. Not too sure but I think we’re usually back by then.

Awesome, I can’t wait. Alright, I have to go and try not to puke. Wish me luck?

I smiled as I typed the response.

Good luck!

I stared at my phone for a moment longer before dropping it onto the bed beside me. I was definitely thinking too much into it and that was just going to mean that I was disappointed when we either didn’t end up hanging out or if that’s all it was. But then, he’s my friend, one of my closest friends. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that, it would ruin things.

Even if he was into me, which he definitely wasn’t, I shouldn’t date him anyway. It would be throwing our friendship away over… I didn’t know how to finish that thought. I mean, we were still so young. Even if we did get together, chances were that we’d break up before long. Either something would happen and he’d realise that there were other better people out there to date or… I wasn’t sure, we’d go to different universities and break up then. I’d be ruining our friendship for something that would never last.

It wasn’t worth it. The sooner I realised that and actually made myself understand it, the better. A sigh passed my lips and I threw myself back onto the bed, glaring at the ceiling. I was being ridiculous and I didn’t know how to stop. I couldn’t. The only way I could was to escape, think about something else, anything else.

Dizziness raced towards me, wrapping me in its comforting embrace. But where to go? I couldn’t go back to the last horrifying world I’d been in, I was dead there. Probably passed out on the back of that giant hellhound. Or maybe I’d fallen off when I’d finally bled out and the creature had left me. It could have eaten me. Realistically, it would be a waste not to. I wasn’t sure how easy it was for the dog to find food or if it even had to eat but surely, it wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity.

As I lay there deliberating my options, I felt one of them reach out to me. Something was calling me, one of the worlds and I let it. In a moment, I was on the bus again. It was still moving but it felt slow. I looked around, excitement and anticipation warring within me. Was this it? Were we there?

The bus came to a stop.