Inescapable Escapism

Gradually, I felt myself drifting away. I didn’t fight the dizziness that pulled at me, taking me away from the world where I was curled up on my bed, unable to do anything. Part of me wanted to cry. I could feel the urge bubbling up within me, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually do it. It would take too much energy.

But the loneliness was pervasive. I could feel it worming its way into my bones even as I floated in an empty space, not quite in any world. They both existed around me, but I was detached from them, numb to the worlds. All I felt was a vague, crushing sense that made me want to sink to the floor and never get up again.

A flare of defiance blossomed within me. I was being ridiculous. The other worlds shouldn’t have been making me feel so down, and I knew that. They were under my control. They had to be; they were nothing more than a figment of my imagination, so I shouldn’t have been feeling anything other than happy.

That was what I wanted, and I could control it. I could change the world so that I stopped being so lonely. It could work. I could speed up time until Abbie and Katie passed their induction, and then I wouldn’t be alone. Seth and Scott, too. I wanted to see them again as well.

But then I’d miss things, and I didn’t want that. Rodgers was meant to be giving me a tour of the Academy in the morning, and I knew it would still happen if I did speed up time, but it wouldn’t be the same. It would be nothing more than a fleeting memory to me. So, I had to do something else. I needed another way to stop myself from being so alone.

Maybe I could just bring my friends out. I could change how things were working in the world so they passed immediately, and then we could all go on the tour together. That would be so much more fun. I wouldn’t have to skip anything, and we could all start class at the same time.

Determination rose within me for a brief moment before fading. I knew it wasn’t possible; it was just wishful thinking. The other worlds, or fantasies, or whatever they were, didn’t work like that. They weren’t entirely under my control. Actually, they were barely under my control at all. If they were, things would have been different. I wouldn’t have been killed or locked up or hurt or have experienced any of the bad things that had happened to me in the other worlds. I would just be happy.

Or maybe I could control them and was just losing my mind. Perhaps I hated myself so much that I was allowing myself to be hurt. It could be self-inflicted. Intentional on some level. Maybe that was why I felt so lonely in the spy world. It was a punishment, kind of. I’d made too many friends there. I was too happy in the Academy, and I didn’t deserve it.

That couldn’t be true, though. My imagination wasn’t that good. There was no way I could make so many weird and completely different worlds. I could create a couple, maybe, but not as many as I’d visited already.

Dizziness nudged at the corner of my awareness, and I lunged towards it, eager to escape the dark void containing nothing but my thoughts. I’d already lingered there too long, and I didn’t like it. It made me think about too much that I didn’t want to consider. Even reality was better than that.

My vision cleared just as a plate was placed on the table before me. I stared down at it, aware that I was staring but unable to stop myself. The food looked so good, and there was so much of it.

“There you go, dear,” the waitress said with a smile. “The cheese, potato and onion pie. I snuck you a few extra fries to apologise for not having the panini you wanted.”

“Oh, thank you,” I said, forcing myself to look away from the food to smile at her. “It looks great.”

It really did. The pastry was a perfect golden brown, and I could see just how flaky it was without even having to cut into it, but it was the small mountain of chips that held my attention. They were flecked with herbs and scattered with shards of roasted garlic. The smell that wafted away from the plate made my mouth water and my hand itch to reach for a chip, but I forced myself to wait as the waitress gave my mom her salad.

Belatedly, a wave of relief washed over me as I realised what the waitress had said, and the memory became slightly clearer. I’d tried to order something else; I could recall that now. A cheese panini, but the cafe was out of bread somehow, and I’d had to order something else. That was why I’d been pulled back to reality a couple of times. It made sense. I hated making decisions and being put on the spot, especially with my mom there to judge me for whatever I chose.

Even though it was just a memory, I felt a phantom pang of panic that turned my stomach. When the waitress had mentioned the pie was her favourite, I’d jumped at it. I probably would have gone for anything she’d suggested at that point, though. It was easier than having to look through the menu and decide with both her and Mom watching me.

“There we go. Is there anything else you need? Another coffee, perhaps?” the waitress asked, looking between my mom and me.

“I’ll take another espresso,” Mom said.

The waitress smiled at me expectantly, and I glanced at my mug. Somehow, I’d almost finished the bitter yet overpoweringly sweet latte. Part of me wanted to order it again, but I was concerned it might cause my mom to explode with disapproval if I did. She’d been bad enough the first time; I could vaguely remember the snide comments, and two sugary coffees in one day might just tip her over the edge. She was already acting horribly enough without me doing much to make it worse.

“Just some water would be great, please,” I decided.

“Fantastic. One espresso and a water coming right up,” the waitress said before walking away.

I gazed down at my food again. Mom’s eyes were burning into me, and I had to fight the urge to ignore her. I could have done it. If I’d just picked up my fork and started eating, she would have had to blink or look away at some point. It wasn’t worth the festering anger it would cause, though.

“Your salad looks good,” I said, finally meeting her gaze.

That wasn’t a lie; it did look good. Not quite as incredible as my pie, but still good. The salmon fillet was speckled with herbs and rested on a bed of lettuce and other leafy things. There were even some little potatoes and other vegetables in there. It was one of the more interesting-looking salads I’d seen before. If it weren’t for the salmon and whatever the weird-looking, shrivelled green things were, I probably would have happily eaten it myself.

Mom didn’t respond to what I’d said at all. She simply raised an eyebrow and looked down at my food pointedly.

“I hope you don’t plan on finishing all of that,” she said in a tone that made it clear I should not. “I know you’ve been more active than usual whilst you’ve been here, but it doesn’t give you the excuse to binge.”

I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying something stupid, reminding myself not to annoy her any more than I already had.

“I probably won’t be able to finish it,” I lied.

It was a lot of food, but I could probably manage it. It smelt so good that I almost wanted to.

“I should hope not,” Mom scoffed. “I mean, did she really have to give you extra chips? They’re going to go straight to your thighs.”

She didn’t even look at me as she spoke, and that annoyed me more than her words. She was too busy checking her phone again, and I knew she wasn’t texting anyone or even reading something. She was just making sure that she’d not somehow missed a call from her parents. There was no way she could have. Her phone was on the loudest possible volume, and she’d checked it every couple of minutes since we left the house. I’m pretty sure she even checked it when she was driving. She normally did.

She was so paranoid and scared that her parents would try to contact her, and if she didn’t pick up, they wouldn’t bother coming back to see us before we left. It didn’t really matter, though. Her parents weren’t going to call her, and even if they did, they still wouldn’t drive back to see us. We weren’t worth it to them, but she couldn’t see that.

Luckily, Mom was so distracted that I didn’t need to say anything to her. Instead, I could just eat in peace. I sunk my knife into the pie, cracking the pastry open. Steam billowed out, and I found myself inhaling deeply. The deliciously rich and savoury scent was too tempting. I knew the filling was going to be hot, but I couldn’t resist scooping up a forkful and taking a bite.

It was worth it. The molten, cheesy filling burnt my mouth, but I didn’t care. It was just so good. I broke off a piece of the buttery pastry, letting my eyes flutter shut as I chewed. Swallowing my mouthful, I glanced at the pile of chips on my plate. Surely, they couldn’t be as good as the pie. There was no way that everything could be that good, but the crunch that sounded when I speared a fry gave me hope.

An audible noise of delight almost slipped out of my lips as I ate the chips, but I managed to catch myself just in time. They were so good. Perfectly seasoned with just a hint of garlic. I couldn’t help but stab another forkful and shove it into my mouth.

“Honestly,” she hissed, glaring at me. “It’s like you haven’t eaten in a week.”

I met her gaze, continuing to chew. No matter how good the food was, I didn’t want to stay in reality and deal with my mom for any longer. She wasn’t even being that bad, but I just didn’t have the energy to do it. And I didn’t need to. The Academy wasn’t appealing to me, but that wasn’t my only option. I could go anywhere else.

That thought made me pause. Where did I want to go? I wasn’t sure, really. Not to any of the worlds I’d been before, I didn’t think. They were all pretty scary, with a few exceptions. Mitch’s face floated to the front of my mind, but I pushed it aside. I wanted to go back there and see him again so much, but I wasn’t ready. It just… scared me too much, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe one day.

I hoped I’d be able to go back there at some point. I really wanted to. It was the first and maybe the only place I’d been where I’d actually felt… safe. The Sterlings were there, obviously, but even when they were shooting at me, it wasn’t too bad. I knew that Mitch would protect me. And that was why I couldn’t go back. If he was hurt, if he was dying…

I had to go somewhere else. There were other places that weren’t too bad. Like that world where I was a space pirate. That had been fun, but it was scary too. It felt too… mature. I was an adult there, and it was weird. I wasn’t ready for that. I was still young, and I wanted to do kid things, whatever that meant.

There was another one, though. I could vaguely remember another world where I was in space for real, rather than just in the sky. I searched my memories, recalling flashes of the obstacle course we’d done. It had been incredible and so fun, but even that felt too adult to me. There was a boy there. One who I was dating. We were going to go back to a room, just the two of us.

Surely, there were other worlds out there where I could just be a kid and have a good time without having to worry about boys or my mom or anything else. Dizziness reached out towards me, but I batted it aside. It felt new, but somehow, I could tell that it was wrong. It wasn’t what I was looking for.

A different dizziness offered itself to me, but it didn’t feel right either. Neither did the next. I could feel the hint of darkness within them. Something scary hid in the midst, and irritation rose within me as I continued to search. I just wanted something easy and fun. That couldn’t be too hard to find, surely.

Or maybe it was. Perhaps I was searching for something impossible. Whenever I’d gone to other worlds, I’d still been me. Different versions of me who lived different lives, but they were still me. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but I did. And maybe that was the issue. Perhaps I was the problem.

I was looking for a world where I was happy and carefree and allowed to be a kid, but maybe that didn’t exist. Perhaps I was destined to be miserable in every single world. Maybe that was what I deserved. If there wasn’t a single world where I was happy, maybe that was a sign.

Dizziness hovered at the edge of my mind, but I didn’t reach out for it straight away. Something about it was… different. The sensation felt new. It didn’t make my head spin like the rest, but instead, it made my stomach clench, almost like I was on a roller coaster. I hesitated, mentally eyeing it for a moment longer and trying to work out why it felt so different before allowing it to wash over me.

My eyes were closed.

That was the first thing I noticed, but I wasn’t really tempted to open them. The world didn’t quite feel real yet, and I wanted to give it a little while longer. I could feel it becoming more solid as I waited. The ground under my back was slowly hardening, and my face was heating up.

I must be outside, I realised as birds broke into song around me. It was a lovely day. I knew that before I even opened my eyes. The sun was shining down on us, but it wasn’t too hot. It was the perfect temperature, and there was even a slight breeze. It caught my hair, making it brush against my face. The sensation was so light, so gentle, that it was easy to ignore at first, but once I’d noticed it, it quickly became irritating.

“Hey!” someone cried as I lifted my hand from under my head to tuck my hair behind my ear.

Confusion washed through me, and I opened my eyes, blinking in the bright sunlight. My vision was hazy. I must have had my eyes shut for too long because they struggled to adjust to the world again. The colours looked too vibrant, too intense.

I sat up on my elbows, glancing at the dark-haired girl who scowled at me playfully. She was kneeling near where I lay on the grass, a canvas in front of her and a metallic palette, covered in bright splodges of paint, attached to her wrist.

“What?” I asked.

“You moved!” the girl, Dina, complained.

“Sorry,” I said, lacing my hands behind my head, lying down again. “Is that better?”

There was a beat of silence that lasted for so long that I couldn’t help but look back at Dina. She was glaring at the painting in front of her, her eyes darting back and forth quickly.

“It’s fine,” she sighed. “I’m giving up for now, anyway.”

She waved a hand in front of her, causing some of the paint to leave the canvas and float upwards. Wonder washed through me as I watched the droplets of colour drift upward until they disappeared before looking back at Dina. How had she done that?

I blinked, pushing my questions aside before looking back at the girl I was pretty sure was my friend.

“How’s it going?” I asked as Dina shuffled, swinging her legs out in front of her.

“Horribly,” she said. “I can’t get your hair right. I’ve never struggled with hair before in my life, and yet now…”

She trailed off, continuing to glare at her painting.

“I bet it’s not that bad,” I said. “But I’m happy to come take a look if you want?”

That got Dina to stop looking at the canvas. Her eyes darted towards me, and her hand shot out, grabbing the edge of the canvas and hitting a button on the back of it. The thin metal frame started to fold in on itself, shrinking down and taking the easel it was attached to with it. Once it was small enough to fit in Dina’s palm, she grabbed it and slid it into her pocket.

“Absolutely not,” she said. “You know I don’t want you to see it until it’s ready!”

Dina threw herself down onto the grass next to me.

“I know, but you have ages still,” I told her.

“No, I don’t! It’s meant to be a graduation present, Clea! I have a month,” she shot back. “And I doubt I’ll even be able to do it in time. It took me two weeks just to do your face, and even that still looks wrong!”

“I bet it doesn’t,” I said. “You’re so critical about your own work, and I always think it looks great.”

Dina’s face scrunched up.

“I am not. Plus, it needs to be perfect.”

I hesitated as guilt rose within me. I loved that Dina wanted to make me a painting for graduation, but it made me feel bad to see how much she was struggling with it. She never normally had such a hard time.

“It really doesn’t,” I told her, looking back at the sky. “No matter what you do, I’m going to love it. I always do. You don’t need to worry about it so much.”

It was true. She was so talented and incredible at art. Even the sketches that she hated and erased without even finishing were better than anything I could have ever done, and I adored every last one. I told her that every time, but she never believed me.

“Yes, I do,” Dina said, glaring at the sky. “It might be the last thing I ever paint, and I want it to be perfect.”

It took a few seconds for me to realise what she’d said. My heart shattered.

“When did you find out?” I asked softly.

Dina didn’t answer me for a few seconds, and I turned to look at her again. Her expression was pained, and her eyes were fixed on a small, wispy cloud that floated across the otherwise perfect sky.

“A couple of days ago,” she admitted finally, her voice quiet. “I couldn’t bring myself to tell you before. I knew you’d be disappointed in me.”

“I’m not!” I said immediately. “I’m disappointed for you. You worked so hard on that application!”

“We both did,” Dina said, still refusing to look at me. “There’s no way I could have gotten it finished before the deadline without your help. I’m sorry it was a waste of time.”

“It wasn’t!” I insisted.

“Clea, you could have been studying for your medical exams instead,” she told me.

Queasiness shot through me at the mention of the exams. I hadn’t gotten my results back yet, and it was starting to get to me. They were the last results to come back every year; my tutors had reminded me that when I’d asked about them for the fifth time, but it didn’t make the wait any less stressful.

I wasn’t ready to get them back, though. As much as I needed to know how I’d done and if I’d scored well enough to become a doctor, I didn’t want to know. I’d spent too long studying and preparing for them. The thought of it all being for nothing was too much.

“It’s fine. Helping you was a nice break from revision,” I told Dina.

A smile lifted her lips, but it fell from her face too quickly.

“But what if I’m the reason…” Dina started before trailing off.

My hands curled into fists as I tried to push that thought aside. If I failed my exams for some reason, it wouldn’t be her fault. It would be mine. I clearly didn’t have a good enough grasp of the material, or I lacked that innate ability that others must have. A few more hours of studying wouldn’t have given me that.

“Still worth it,” I said firmly. “Did you find out your placement?”

Disgust danced across Dina’s face, curling her lip.

“Engineering,” she said, causing me to wince. “Just like my parents and both my siblings. They’re thrilled, obviously.”

“You told them already? How’d it go?”

Dina let out a heavy sigh.

“Nope. Doctor Algeen told Mom yesterday. I thought she was going to combust with happiness. She kept saying this was my calling and that I was going to love it.”

Her tone made it clear she did not agree. Still, hope fluttered weakly in my stomach.

“That’s rough. Doctor Algeen, though?” I asked.

“Yeah… I’ve been assigned to his team.”

A grin stretched over my face.

“That’s awesome, Dina! I didn’t even know he had a space,” I cried, turning to look at her.

“Yeah, someone died like a week ago,” she said in a flat tone.