At first, all I heard was whispers but whenever I turned around to find the perpetrator, nobody was there. The whispers escalated to gusts of nonexistent wind brushing past me but affecting no one else. Then, I felt fingers poking me in the shoulder vying for my attention, but no visible body. At that point, I thought there was something wrong with me, so I sought help from my parents and a therapist. Nothing worked. Ever since I “finished” therapy, I pretended everything was okay, but now I’m always scared. I tried to return to my normal life, but everything was far from normal.
My name is Zoey. I want to tell my story the way it should be told and not by police. When people describe me, mentally insane isn’t the first thing that comes to mind. I guess from now on, it will be though.
Let’s begin.
I was walking home from school when Freddie, Melvin, and Janice walked up to me.
“Hey,” I said gripping my books to my chest.
“What’s up Beanstalk?” Freddie said. He knew I hated that nickname. I rolled my eyes and nudged Janice.
“How’d your interview go?”
“Went well,” Janice said, “although, I think Stanford might be interested in someone who hasn’t blown up a science lab.”
“Well lucky for you, you’re applying to be an engineer not a chemist,” I joked.
“Yeah,” she chuckled, “What about you Melvin? Anything exciting happen today?”
Melvin shrugged, “I don’t know. I did well on my math test, I guess.”
We all laughed but Melvin didn’t understand what he said that was so funny. None of us planned on telling him how hilarious his monotone voice was. Freddie made another joke and Janice laughed and Melvin told us another unimportant and boring fact which was definitely hilarious, but I was listening. By that point, it felt like there was a one-way glass where I saw them, but they couldn’t see me. Then, I felt the poking again. This time, it hurt. The poking evolved to grabbing, and the grabbing restrained me. I couldn’t move. My friends walked forward and once they realized I was not there, they turned around and saw me, levitating in the air completely immobile.
“Zoey!” Melvin yelled.
As they screamed and jumped to reach me, I fought the invisible hands that restrained me and attempted to grab Freddie’s hand. At the last possible second, Freddie disappeared, and the invisible hands dropped me to the floor. The room around me was white. There were no corners so I couldn’t tell if there was a ceiling which disoriented my sense of direction. There were no windows, doors, and no way out. As my eyes frantically searched the room, I noticed a group of five people in a huddle. I heard them mumbling, “I told you that was the wrong time,” or, “I don’t think she can do it.” I stared at the strange group. It was as if they were dressed for a Halloween party. There was a cowboy, traditional Chinese woman, British queen, Egyptian king, and Greek warrior. I stood up and confronted them.
“Hello,” I said. They jumped. They stared at me as if I was in a zoo. That feeling of a one-way glass started to overcome me once again but this time, I felt like I couldn’t see them, “Where am I?” I inquired.
The group stared, “Where am I!” I yelled.
The group jumped once again. The cowboy pulled out his gun, “Hush yer’self now, we don’t want any trouble.” I couldn’t breathe. I’ve never had a gun pointed at me before. The lack of oxygen caused my arms legs to go limp. I collapsed on the floor.
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