Inescapable Escapism

“They… they came back.”

My breathing came in tight gasps as my eyes darted around, trying to work out what was happening. I needed to leave. I had to find Mitch and tell him about the Sterlings and what they had done. He was in danger; they were too dangerous, and I had to warn him before it was too late, before they killed everyone.

“I… I can’t believe it,” my mom muttered, seeming to be talking to herself. “They must have read my messages.”

I couldn’t speak. If I tried, my voice would come out too uneven, and then my mom would look at me and see my panic. She’d realise something was wrong, and I didn’t want that. I couldn’t deal with it. If she started questioning me, if she asked me what I was so scared about, the fragile dam I’d built within myself to hold back the overwhelming terror would break, leaving me…

Broken. It would shatter me and drag me down, and I couldn’t have that. I needed to keep it together, to not let myself fall apart until I was alone. Once I was in my room and knew I wouldn’t be bothered, then I could let it happen. I could go to Mitch.

We had time, I tried to reassure myself. The Sterlings were dangerous, but I didn’t need to worry about them yet. There was no point in panicking as much as I was. Mitch’s world was fine, I was pretty sure. It wasn’t teetering on the brink of collapse, ready to succumb to global warming, and that meant I could wait. A few minutes wouldn’t make the difference between death and survival, but it could ruin everything for me.

I didn’t trust myself to be able to respond well to my mom and grandparents if I wasn’t actually there in my regular world to decide what to say and how to act. Nothing had gone wrong whilst I was in other worlds yet, but it felt like it was only a matter of time before it did, and I wanted to prevent it from happening for as long as possible.

We started to roll forward again, and I glanced at my mom, checking to make sure she was actually controlling the car and not still staring at theirs in shock. Her eyes were still wide, but a smile had stretched over her lips. I sucked in slow, deep breaths, trying to ignore the anxiety that pulled at me. It wasn’t just because of what was happening in the other worlds. I was worried about my mom too.

I didn’t trust that my grandparents had come back to say goodbye to us. I knew them better than that, and it didn’t feel right. They’d never done it before, and I assumed there was another reason why they’d returned. Either that, or they didn’t know we were still there. That would make sense. Mom had been texting and trying to call them almost constantly all day, but it wouldn’t have surprised me if my grandmother blocked her number.

Mom was so excited and happy that they’d returned that she could barely park. She pulled into the space, not even bothering to straighten up or pull all the way forward before getting out of the car. I climbed out, watching as she rushed toward the boot and pulled out the giant bouquet that she’d spent hours selecting.

It did look good. With how long she’d spent working on it, it would have been strange if it didn’t, but the combination of vibrant orange, yellow and red flowers reminded me of a sunset. They were beautiful.

She shot me a smile that was free from her usual restraint and judgement before rushing towards the front door, her excitement almost childlike.

“Oh,” she said as she tried to open the door, expecting it not to be locked. “I guess they normally lock it when they’re here alone.”

A high-pitched giggle slipped out of her mouth as she fumbled for her keys, and I felt the fake, overly bright smile I’d forced onto my lips slip slightly.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I agreed despite knowing they didn’t.

They never locked their front door. It was only when they went to bed or went out. The rest of the time, they left it on the latch. I wasn’t entirely sure why, but they did. If it was locked, it was a deliberate decision, and that worried me. They were going to be horrible to my mom. She was so excited that they actually wanted to see her before we left, and they were about to shatter that hope.

But it was too late for me to do anything. Mom finally managed to open the door, and it swung open. I watched as she looked around, clearly hoping her parents would materialise and tell her how happy they were to see her. The hall was empty, though. The sound of the television floated towards us, and I held my breath, waiting to see how she’d react.

She stepped forward, pulling the key from the door, the smile still on her lips.

“Mom? Dad?” she called. “We’re back!”

No answer came. The lounge wasn’t far from the front door; I knew that my grandfather would have heard her, but he didn’t say anything. He just stayed silent.

A clacking noise sounded in the distance, and I stared at the end of the hall, waiting for my grandmother to appear, but it wasn’t long until she poked her head around the door, peering at us. An overly shocked expression appeared on her face as she did a double take that was too dramatic to be real.

My mom didn’t move from the doorway as my grandmother started to walk towards us, her heels clicking loudly on the floor. She waited until she’d almost reached us before finally speaking.

“You’re still here?” she said, sounding surprised. “Well, that certainly explains the mess. I’ve just spent the last hour cleaning out the fridge.”

That was obviously a lie. We’d barely kept anything in there; she just wanted to insult my mom. Mom always cleaned it out before we left, anyway. It always irritated me, and she’d spend the whole time complaining about the amount of food I’d wasted if I stayed in the room, but she did it every time.

There was no point. We both knew the housekeeper would clean everything before my grandparents returned, but Mom insisted on doing it anyway.

“Yes, I’m sorry about that. I was going to do it once we got back,” my mom explained before hesitating. “Did you not see my texts?”

Her voice was so fragile that it almost hurt to hear. It sounded like one word from my grandmother could break her, and I knew that was what she wanted. My grandmother enjoyed it too much.

“I must have missed them,” she said with a shrug.

“Oh.”

Anger burned in me as I watched my grandmother’s lip curl, her eyes fixed on my mom’s face.

“What are they for?” my grandmother asked, waving a dismissive hand towards the flowers my mom was clutching.

She glanced down at them, tightening her grip as she turned them slightly, clearly trying to make sure they looked as good as possible.

“You,” she said, her voice far too cheerful. “And Dad. They’re a thank you for letting us stay for the summer.”

Mom’s smile grew slightly as her mother stepped forward, reaching out towards the flowers. It looked like she was reaching out to accept them, and my mom held the bouquet out towards her, but she just touched one of the leaves before snatching her hand back.

“They’re real?” she gasped.

The expression on Mom’s face faltered.

“Yes,” she replied. “I went to the flower shop in town that I know you like.”

My grandmother’s eyes narrowed as she stared at them in apparent disbelief, examining the flowers closely but making no move to reach for them again.

“Malcolm sold you… these?” she asked in a shocked voice. “I assumed from the quality that you’d picked them up from a supermarket or… petrol station.”

“No,” my mom said, her smile becoming even more forced. “We got them from Malcolm’s.”

My grandmother leant closer, staring at the flowers before shaking her head slightly.

“Well, he’s never sold me anything quite so…” she trailed off, as if searching for the right word before giving up. “Thank you. I’m sure these will look lovely in the guest bathroom.”

She took the bouquet from my mom, holding it out in front of her, seemingly worried that she was going to get dirt on her clothes or catch some kind of disease from them, before turning and walking away. I watched her go, not quite able to believe just how rude she’d been. She was always dismissive and rude to my mom, but the way she’d acted was a whole new level. It was so cruel.

They never used the guest bathroom. She’d chosen to put them there because of that, and I knew it. It was another dig at my mom, a reminder that she hated the flowers, despite them being some of her favourites. If she’d chosen them herself, they would have been placed in the entrance hall. She would have boasted about them to anyone who visited.

I glanced across at my mom, seeing her visibly sag as her mother disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall. Still, she didn’t look away. Her shining eyes remained fixed on the spot where she’d been moments before, seemingly unable to look away. Irritation grew within me as I took in the obvious disappointment and heartbreak on her face.

“I liked the flowers,” I said, purposefully not lowering my voice.

Perhaps my grandmother would hear, and it would be enough to remind her not to be so cruel. I doubted it, but part of me still hoped.

A sigh slipped out of my mom’s mouth, and I waited for her to reply, feeling anxiety grow within me. It felt foolish to draw attention to myself when my mom was clearly struggling to control her emotions, and I almost expected her to snap or lash out at me, but to my surprise, a slight yet genuine smile appeared on her face.

“Thank you, Grace,” she said, her tone tired. “You should probably go upstairs and pack.”

I hesitated, not quite sure what to make of her reaction.

“I’ve already finished packing.”

It was a lie, but that didn’t matter. My mom looked away, glancing towards the door to the lounge.

“I’m sure you’ve probably missed something. Why don’t you go and check?”

I opened my mouth to reply before shutting it again as a realisation washed over me. Her tone was strangely forceful, and it took me a moment to work out that she was trying to give me an excuse to leave and hide in my bedroom. I wanted to take it. I knew that I needed to see Mitch, but I felt like I should stay with my mom. She was probably going to go into the kitchen and sit with her mom, who would pepper her with insults and snide comments. If I was there, I could…

It wouldn’t make anything better, but I might be able to help her or distract my grandmother for a little. It wasn’t my job to protect her from her mom, and I knew that. She was almost as cruel to me sometimes, but it still wasn’t right for her to deal with that alone.

But dizziness was pulling at me. The other worlds tugged at my awareness, making it hard to stand without swaying.

“Are you sure?” I asked quietly.

My mother sent me a look that I think she wanted to be haughty, but her eyes were still glistening with unshed tears.

“Of course,” she said. “You should have finished packing before we went out.”

Her voice lacked its usual sting, and I smiled.

“Thanks,” I replied softly before raising my voice ever so slightly. “I probably have missed a few bits. I’ll go check.”

“Make sure you do.”

I turned and walked towards the stairs before stopping. Mom had given me an excuse, a reason not to have to spend time with my grandparents when they were clearly feeling more vicious than usual, and I wanted to do the same for her.

“Have you finished packing?” I asked, my voice feeling unnaturally loud as it rang across the space between us.

A small smile pulled at my mom’s lips as she glanced at me, her expression exhausted.

“I’ll do it later.”

She looked away again, her eyes finding the end of the corridor as she drew herself up, standing straighter. I watched as her shoulders rose and fell as she took a deep breath before starting to walk towards the kitchen, where I could hear my grandmother bustling around. Sadness pulled at me, and part of me wanted to call her back and ask her to help me with something upstairs, but I forced myself to stay quiet.

She’d made her decision. I’d given her the opportunity to hide from her parents, and she hadn’t taken it. Instead, she’d chosen to follow after her mom and risk being hurt again. There was nothing more I could do.

I turned and started to climb the stairs, succumbing to the dizziness that had been waiting to strike. Fear blossomed in my chest again as I focused on Mitch’s world, feeling my body moving distantly in one of the worlds as my mind spun. What was I going to say to him? I wanted to tell him that I missed him, but that would be stupid. I hadn’t gone anywhere in that world. I’d been in the same villa as him the whole time. He’d think I’d lost my mind.

The Sterlings had a biological warfare lab, and they were to blame for the end of the world. Well, it wasn’t exactly their fault, but they made it worse. They made it happen sooner, I think? I could tell him that, and then…

I froze as the world began to solidify around me, and my bedroom door shut behind me. I had no proof. How could I tell him what I had discovered and expect him to believe me when I had no evidence and no explanation for how I’d learnt about it? He really would think I’d lost my mind. I needed more. I needed… something. Something firm that I could tell him.

Pulling the curtains shut so no one would see me pacing in reality, I hovered in the strange blank space between worlds, wracking my brain as I tried to think of some kind of proof I could give Mitch. It would have been so much easier if I could go back to the strange floating city and watch the videos again, but there was no point returning there. I’d left the game. I wasn’t even in the arcade anymore. I was… somewhere.

Confusion and curiosity pulled at me, and I started to reach out towards that world before I could stop myself. It felt wrong, though. There was a strange edge to the dizziness that felt almost like a warning. A warning of what, though?

It should have been enough to push me away and prevent me from returning, but it wasn’t. I tried to hold some of my awareness back and not plunge fully into the world, but it was impossible. The moment I pulled close, information seemed to rush at me. It pulled at my mind, demanding and fighting for my attention.

Everything looked wrong. That was my first realisation. Everything about the small windowless room I was seated in, handcuffed to the table, looked distorted. The pale, almost faded blue walls were dull and muted, and even I looked wrong. My skin tone was so anaemic. I never normally looked that bad.

How long had I been held there? Or was I even me? Had something gone wrong, and I’d found myself in the wrong body? Was I even in the right world? Panic leapt in my chest, and I looked down at my hands, my eyes searching for any blemish or sign to prove my identity.

My breath caught in my throat as my gaze landed on the small, pale line on the underside of my arm. I, Clea, had that scar. The doctors had done their best to prevent it from forming after an accident a few years ago, but it still had. I was in the right body; I had to be, but then why did everything look wrong?

I fought to keep my fear at bay as I glanced around the room again, trying to ignore the fact that there was no door. There must have been; how else would I have gotten into the room? I just couldn’t see it for some reason. A tight breath escaped my lips as the memories returned to me. They’d always been there, trying to reveal themselves to me, but I’d ignored them.

My chip was deactivated. My contacts, too. No… they’d been removed. They’d both been removed once I was brought to… wherever I was being held. The back of my head ached, a reminder of the barely healed wound that was tucked just under my hairline. They hadn’t numbed the area or given me any painkillers before doing it, but that didn’t matter. I didn’t fight at all. I was in shock.

I had been ever since I left the game. I’d barely been able to speak as I was dragged out of the arcade, torn away from Dina, and shoved into the back of a car. I could count the number of times I’d even seen one before on one hand. They were usually reserved for emergencies. For when the maglev wouldn’t be fast enough. Terrorist attacks and horrible accidents.

And that was what they thought I was. A terrorist. They’d asked me how it had happened when they questioned me, wanting to know how my mind had been poisoned enough to want to bring the entire city crashing down, and I’d tried to answer them. I’d tried my best to tell the stone-faced officers, dressed in unmarked black uniforms that I’d never even seen before, that I was not a terrorist and didn’t want the city to be destroyed, but they’d just laughed.

They didn’t believe me. Not even slightly. It made no sense to me, and I’d tried to tell them that. I even tried to say that if I were, why would we use the game to communicate? That felt so stupid to me. It was so open, and anyone could have walked past and watched what we were doing on the monitors. I hoped the question would show them just how ridiculous their accusation was, but it seemed to have the opposite effect and confirm their suspicions.

According to them, we were testing the game for the terrorists. Someone had leaked information they shouldn't have access to. They wanted to get it to people, for everyone to know what had really happened on the surface, and the game was how the officials decided they’d tried to do it.

It was a coincidence, I’d argued. We had nothing to do with it; it was bad timing. We just happened to be in the arcade at that time and decided to play the game. It wasn’t planned or organised, but they hadn’t listened. I was the perfect target, apparently. My parents had access to the information that had come out. They assumed I’d been the one to leak it.

What would happen to them? To my parents? Did they even know where I was? Were they being questioned too, or were they still at work, completely unaware that anything was happening? Maybe they’d get home, expecting me to be there, only to find the house empty. Part of me hoped someone had told them. I knew that would terrify them, that they’d be so worried about me, but it was better than them thinking that I’d run away or been involved in a maglev accident or something and was lying in a hospital bed.

The thought of my parents sitting at home, clutching each other as they scoured my chip data and searched the hospital records and new reports for any mention of me brought tears to my eyes. I lifted a hand, planning to press it to my lips to stifle the sob that threatened to escape, but the handcuffs prevented me from being able to reach my face.

Hopelessness washed over me as I sobbed, unable to hold the tears back, and I dropped my head onto the table. The movement sent pain shooting through my scalp, and something in my mind seemed to jolt.

I’d gone to that world for a reason. I was there to gather information and data, not stay there forever. There was no point. I couldn’t fight every problem and fix every world. I had to focus on the ones that I could. The ones that mattered the most to me. Like Mitch’s. If there was nothing I could learn from being in that world, I needed to leave.

My heartbreak started to fade as I pulled back, reducing to nothing more than a shadow as I returned to reality and continued pacing, thinking as hard as I could. What did I know that I could tell Mitch? What would be useful?

Amelia. She was a Sterling. Maybe we could hunt her down and stop her before she had a chance to start working on the serum that caused all of those animals to mutate. That would help, but it wouldn’t fix anything. The world was still ending; people were still going to die. There had to be more we could do to save them and prevent the planet from freezing.

It wasn’t inevitable; it couldn’t be. There had to be something I could do so that no one ever had to take to the skies just to survive. If I could stop that, if I could stop anyone from having to celebrate Ascension Day and mourn the lives of the many people who died as the islands fell back to the surface.

Relief, so potent I couldn’t stop myself from staggering backwards and dropping onto the bed, slammed into me. Ascension Day. That was another thing I knew. Everyone on the island did. It was etched into our buildings, into the Founder’s statute. 2097. We had time. The chances of Mitch or me even living that long felt unlikely, but the Sterlings did. Their company did.

Maybe we could bring them down, though. Perhaps if we can stop them in our lifetimes, we can change things for the better. They had a lot of businesses; they contributed to a lot of evil. Maybe if we stopped them, the world wouldn’t end.