I don’t know where to begin, because I don’t know when it began. I don’t know what day it is anymore; I forget why I’m still here. Some time back I thought about marking days off on a wall or a calendar somewhere, dungeon-style, until I realized that there’s no windows, no clocks, and no one seems to keep a set routine in this place. When you’re hungry, they let you eat. When you’re tired, you can sleep with the lights out and the door shut. No one forces us to meal times or bed times or medication or anything. At first we all thought it was quite nice of them to let us be that way. But now my half-fuzzed-out brain is starting to unpeel the pleasant haze of reprieve and safekeeping and think twice about the whole thing.

It was the dreams that made me wake up.

***

The picture juddered into and out of the frame of my eyesight like a dirty DVD skipping on the laser. Artifacts and lines cracked the field of view and my ears filled with static. I batted myself on the side of the head, thinking for some reason that’d maybe stop the buzzing. I then immediately felt like an idiot. I’m not a goddamn TV. The noise and distortion stopped, and I stared for a long moment at the page in front of me, trying to remember what I was reading it for.

“Give me that, you’re not even reading it”. Bryce pawed the magazine out from under my gaze and turned a few pages while drinking his coffee.
“Hmmnh?” came out of my mouth with the eloquence of wet cotton balls. Bryce looked sideways at me.
“You OK? You keep staring at nothing and you’re not listening to me. I’m sorry. I should shut up about the bookshop”.
“No it’s ok; I’m just feeling a bit out of it today I’m sorry. Let’s get going, OK? We’re gonna miss the film otherwise.” I got up from the table, grabbed my bag and started walking. The brick paving was almost too warm under my bare feet. It was late afternoon and suddenly I remembered it was also Christmas Eve. Funny thing to have forgotten, but then again so was the fact I hadn’t noticed I was barefoot until I got up. We walked side by side through the mall towards the cinema, everything diffused in orange from sunset.
“I can’t believe it’s Christmas Eve, these days it totally sneaks up on me,” I said to break the silence. “I guess that’s what growing up does.”
“Remember the first time you realised Santa Claus wasn’t real? Like, everything looks and feels different after you know that, even though nothing has changed. You just look at it all in another way. In the right way,” he corrected himself.
Bryce then grasped my hand delicately as we walked through the mall, and I felt a quiet spark of excitement in my fingers. He’d never done that before pity that two months later with your head on his shoulder he tells you he thinks of you as the sister he never had

I sat up and banged my head on the shelf over my bed.
“Fuck fuck fuck!”
I swung my legs over the bed onto the floor. Bare feet touched warm linoleum and my head tried to slot back into place as the dissonance of hot bricks and warm lino on the soles of my feet made me feel a bit sick. These dreams were beginning to piss me off. I went into the en suite off to the side of my room to wash my face and wake up properly. I threw cold water at myself and looked in the mirror over the sink.
“Hey there, cliché” I said to my sallow, lost-looking reflection. I’m living in a fucking dystopian graphic novel, what the hell? I walked out through my room and out into the long hallway that led to the common rooms and kitchen. The hallway had doors on either side and was carpeted in a rough sisal that itched my feet. I wished they’d get something better than the flouro strip lighting they had everywhere – it felt like being in a hospital and I really didn’t need reminding of where I was every fucking minute.
“Hey Jak,” David said with a nod at me as I walked into the lounge area. I mumbled something incoherent at him and sat on a free couch and looked up at the TV screen.
“This is the same episode of the Simpsons I saw two days ago, what the hell? Why can’t they let us watch actual TV instead of all this PVR shit all the time?” I shouted at no one in particular. When the first group of us had come here, we hadn’t noticed the TV situation right away. They let us watch stuff, and it had ads and shows and movies and everything seemed up to date so we just assumed we were watching regular television. But the shows repeated, and the ads were always, always the same, and when the news stopped showing at all, that was we started wondering what was up. When we asked, we were told they were recording things to PVR and playing it back to us delayed, and that the TV was only meant for entertainment which was why they were taking out the news broadcasts – no point watching 3 day old news after all.
I don’t know why we just accepted that, but we did. What else could we do? We had a lot of time to kill here til we got out, or they fixed up the water, or found a cure for the shit in it so we could get back to normal life and not be at risk of another episode. Thinking of that reminded me of the dream, which meant I knew it was time for some meds again. “Dammit. Back in a while, guys. Pill time.” I got up and walked out of the living area and down another strip lit itchy sisal hallway towards the nurses station.
“Hey Emma,” I said to the on duty carer. Emma looked up at me over her chunky indie glasses and grinned. She wasn’t much older than me, and she struck me as someone who I’d have gotten on pretty well with on the outside, what with her tattoo and nose ring and the hair dye. She reminded me of me, or what I had been, and I tried not to think about it too much because then you wonder why some people had the reaction and some didn’t and got to keep a normal life, and thinking about that just made you feel like shit. I leaned my elbows on the station counter and put out a hand.
“I had one of those dreams again. I think its been a while, so I thought I better come get some of the Traminole so I don’t get too lucid and lose my shit. Again.” She smiled at me and sighed.
“Went back into your own memories again?”
“Yep. This time it was like, the late eighties and I was on a date with this guy Bryce I knew in high school. Fuck it was real. I felt the hot bricks on my feet, the sun, his hand in mine, the smell of him and of the trees…” I rubbed my face in irritation, “it is so real. And sure, ok, I’m annoyed when it leaves me disoriented, but more than that, its like my own head is taking the piss. Mocking me with all these lovely memories and then waking me up before I get to the best part. Or something, I don’t know anymore. How much longer are we going to have to wait?” I tried to contain myself but my voice quavered in near anger. Emma didn’t seem to mind. She just handed me two capsules and a glass of water and shrugged.
“No one knows, babe. I wish I did. They say more people are being affected too. The facilities are starting to have problems with rooming everyone. There’s been rumours about where to house people...eh, anyway drink up. This is the new formulation. Shouldn’t make you drowsy. Let me know if you get any unpleasant effects though OK? And if you do, please – talk to Dr Bourne this time, OK? He’s not the bad guy here. Besides, if you keep wanting to insist he’s up to no good you really will look paranoid and they’ll say you’re having another break.” As soon as she finished that sentence she went a bit red, frowned, and suddenly straightened up. “Hell I better go man the phones, I keep forgetting it’s my turn.” She walked towards the PABX room, then turned back to look at me. “Dr Bourne. OK?” and smiled.
I nodded and threw back the pills and gulped them down.

They’ll say you’re having another break wait, what?

They’ll say I am? Why’d she put it that way? I mean I did have one. A break, an episode, went crazy, manic, paranoid, call it what you will. Everyone in here did. I leant against the wall and jutted my lower lip out with a frown. Paranoia, paranoia, la de da de da…

I have to stop thinking like this. I’ll never get free otherwise