On a Walk
One evening we were on a walk. My boyfriend and I like to walk the green belt and talk about our interests and advise each other on what we should do to better our lives. Three miles into our walk I get pushed aside by my boyfriend because a person on a bike was barreling towards us and didn’t give us enough notice to move out of the way. I picked myself up from the ground and suddenly found myself alone. The hooded man on the bike was gone and so was my boyfriend. My eyes wandered up and down the trail and past trees and bushes, looking for my boyfriend. He did not answer his phone, when I tried calling him. I kept calling while walking farther up the green belt and back to look for him. I couldn’t find him, so I decided to go back home and see if he was there.
I walked for a very long time and the turn on to our street from the green belt almost never arrived. It was already dark, and I was beginning to get scared. What was weird was that I never saw anyone pass me, after I fell. I kept walking following the paved path beneath my feet. After hours of walking I found an opening from the path on to a road. I couldn’t tell what road it was, but I wanted to get off the green belt because it was very dark and hard to navigate. On the road there were parked cars, houses, and streetlights. The string of houses I recognized belonged to my neighborhood, but one street down. Again, I tried to walk down the street towards the main road and it felt like it took an hour. Then I walked up the main street to my street and that also took a lot of time. Walking to my house took a long time as well and when I finally made arrived at my house, I was so tired. I unlocked the door and went in. No one was there. Deciding to wait the night to see if my boyfriend would make his way back, before calling the police made me very anxious, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
The next morning, there was no one in the house and when checking the front door for my boyfriend I noticed there was no morning car door slamming from neighbors trying to get to work. Where is everyone? Finding my boyfriend my priority, right now. Calling him was not working. Before calling the police, I decided to look in the green belt for him again. Exiting the house, I noticed it was taking more time than it did yesterday to walk to the curb. Something was very wrong. I couldn’t travel anywhere if it took this long. My car was in the garage, but I found I couldn’t get it to start.
Admitting defeat, I stay inside the house and think about my situation from there. Calling the police did not work, probably for the same reason calling my boyfriend was not working. I walk into the kitchen and find that there were things that had been moved from when I last left them. But there was no one in the house. I examine each of the items and find that the items that moved are my boyfriend’s coffee mugs and water bottles. The conclusion I drew was that my boyfriend had died and was haunting the house.
I couldn’t handle the idea that he had died. I refused to believe it because I had no proof, but I couldn’t deny that the items he normally uses are being used in ways that he normally uses them. Without a doubt he was there in the house at times. Sometimes the entire house was still.
Early on I learned that I could touch all the movable items in the house, but not push, pull, or raise them. This is when it became clear that I was not in the same world that I was born into.
A week goes by while I am living in this semi-normal state. The rules of life here are different. My body does not need food. If it did, I would probably be dead since I cannot pick it up to eat it. The time it takes for me to move anywhere is extreme and steadily increasing. It won’t belong before I can no longer move from one place in the house. The kitchen is where I have decided to be when the time comes where I cannot move any more. My reasoning for this is that the kitchen has the most movement of items. I might be able to gather more information about what has happened to me if I read and interpret the items.
I can’t really know what has happened to everyone else. For certain, they have disappeared. But I still think my boyfriend might be haunting the kitchen. Who else would move all of his kitchenware? Right now, I need to focus on where I am and understanding this mysterious situation.
In the kitchen I notice that the boyfriend’s special mugs are moving around again, being placed in places where he regularly liked to place them. But, my special mugs have not been moved since I first entered the house. When I was able to roam the house more, I found that many of my personal items were never moved. My life and personal remnants are seemingly frozen in time. The world where my items are tangible do not move and the world where I am is quite quickly forcing me to stay at a standstill.
The next day a few albums and picture frames were brought to the kitchen counter. Each album page turned slowly and paused for a few minutes. I watched the pictures closely. Each one held very precious memories. The day I got my first job. The dates I had with my boyfriend. The day we moved in together, in this house. My memory held this information, which I was thankful for. While, physically alone I could still remember all the people who have surrounded me all my life. I didn’t feel as lonely anymore.
Eventually, all the pages with pictures had been turned revealing that there was still room left in the album for more. Seeing the empty slots, didn’t make me sad. I know that there is nothing, I can do to create new memories. I am confined to the kitchen and cannot move anywhere else. Although this situation is quite sad, it was still something I wanted to understand. How did I get trapped here or where did everyone go? Answering these questions are my main priority.
The pictures from the picture frame were removed. Some selected pictures were removed from the album and all placed in a nice neat pile. The pile was moved to another room, the room with the desk, computer, and scanner. Hours pass and I find that pile of pictures is moved back to the kitchen each pictured is placed where it once was. The pictures placed in the album were quite informative. I noticed that each picture has one common denominator, me. Every single picture placed back in the album had me in it. There were plenty of pictures in the album that did not have me. Ones of my pets, friends, family, and boyfriend. So why were pictures of me being scanned in the other room?
My heart sank. I knew why. I knew why I was in this place and completely alone. When we were on our walk a bike rider came barreling towards us and my boyfriend pushed me away. The bike rider who was wearing a dark hoodie looked back but never stopped peddling. He had tried to rob us with a knife. The knife was in his right hand. I was walking on the right side. My boyfriend tried to push me out of the way, but the knife caught my neck.
Despair flooded my mind. I had lost my life and was trapped in this awful place, never to touch another human being, hear another person’s voice, or see another living person. My despair turned to anger quick. I hated that hooded man, I wished repeatedly he would take my place. I wished his body was lying alone, subjected to the ants and maggots, on the side of the green trail. But I realized there is nothing I could do to change anything. This world whatever it is. It slowly breaks you down by taking away your ability to move and making you choose your last place you want to be for quite along time. I wondered whether I would disappear into nothingness or just remain in the kitchen for the rest of this existence.
I assumed a funeral was going to take place soon because of the pictures. I think the way time was working in my world synced to the processes that were happening to my body in the real world. And eventually I think my time stopped.
© 2019 C L Whisper