A Hidden Truth

I walk into my newly furnished house. The walls are all glass panels, letting me see into the city. I can’t believe I just moved here. Me? Why would any large company hire me? I walk into the elevator. I watch as all the buildings come closer and closer to me until I reach the lobby. I walk out amazed at how only after a few miles there could be a completely different town. I walk to the polished marble building in the center of all the chaotic but rhythmic pacing, and step in. I pull out my ID and scan it. A odd robotic voice says, “Welcome Samantha.” I’m not used to my full name, I haven’t heard anyone use it in years.

 

I wearily walk through the hallway and watch all the monotone buildings pass me. My office is a small white room, a replica of all the others I've passed. It feels so confined and plain. I start to get an uneasy feeling about this town, I haven't been able to talk to a single actual person yet. Everything is automated for efficiency’s sake. I decide to get up to go get supplies for decoration, maybe that will make the room more suitable. I walk down the same monotone halls. It feels so easy to just get lost in yet somehow no one ever does. I walk into the shop labeled in the only off-white I’ve seen through the halls. I walk in and view the store. It seems completely endless, like there is an infinite supply of items. I pick up a few houseplants and some tables that will match the complete void of my office.

 

I arrive back to my small confined office. I walk to the corner of the room to place down my newly purchased decorations. Houseplants are a great way to warm up the cold atmosphere. I thought I reached the wall when the room suddenly grew bigger; it wasn't as tiny as I thought. “Maybe it was because I was so used to my huge new apartment.” I concluded to myself. Slowly I kept walking further and further, the room didn't seem to end. I shake my head, “I must be hallucinating.” I walk further and further to no end. I put my plant down where I’m standing, giving up.

 

I walk out of the room as calmly as possible and take a deep breath, “everything is normal.” I walk into another similar off-white box even further through the labyrinth of the building with a label reading, “Customer Support,” I step into a waiting room and hear a slight whisper. “What is the point of this job?” I discard this as my conscious telling me I’m useless. I walk towards the only booth that’s open and I hear more speaking getting louder. I ignore myself know it will be filled with regrets of my negative decisions. I walk even closer and hear it getting louder. “Well won’t they just come in-” “Gosh what’s the point-” It doesn’t sound like me. It sounds like someone who knows what is happening here and is annoyed by it. I assume it is just the customer support worker talking aloud. I walk into the vast empty waiting area littered with few chairs that match the plainness of the room. At the same time am greeted by the same voice as before yet it is in two different tones. “Welcome” she said smiling as I heard her displeasing groan for nowhere, “Oh great, another newbie.” I stare at her with my eyes wide open, “Wha-tt.” I stutter out. I see her mouth move to something such as, “Do you need help with anything?” Yet I’m also hearing her say I’m insane at the same exact time but yet not saying it.

 

I run outside the room as fast as possible. I end up back in the waiting room and stare at the door as I run towards it. It juts open and without questioning I run through searching for the exit. I check my forehead and make sure I’m not sick or anything. Am I hallucinating? Why were there two people talking? I’m unsure what is happening. So many different thoughts, situations, problems, solutions, run through my head.

 

I find my apartment building and it suddenly doesn't look as great as it at first seemed. I go upstairs to my room and collapse onto my bed. I stare up at that plain ceiling, reminding me off my office. I quickly jump up to make sure there is actually a ceiling above my head then fall back into my bed. All my thoughts start rushing through my head. What could I have done differently to not get this job? Why is it so weird? My parents were excited to send me off, I was becoming a burden and the were proud to say I was in a huge company. I know this was all just a dream but I’m glad it was. Sometimes I imagine myself in weird situations when I try to overthink issues. When I will wake up I’ll make sure to overlook into all the information of the job and if it is this suspicious, politely decline the offer. I stare into the blank space waiting to wake up, my alarm will go off any second tearing me from my false reality. I wait.. “Maybe I haven’t been asleep long.” I wait some more… Nothing is happening. There is complete silence. I close my eyes. I suddenly sit up and realize I could feel myself make myself make my eyes close, a conscious decision. I’m awake? No… This is a dream… It must? This isn’t possible, it’s way too… Unrealistic. Right? I stare down at my feet, I can see myself and feel my conscious mind. This is real. I’m stuck here and I don’t know what’s going on. What happened with that creepy customer service person? I try to escape by going to sleep but I can’t, there is too much rushing in my head.

 

I stare outside at the dome of a city from my fully glass window. I look down, the hard marble pavement is 15 stories down. In a paroxysm, I suddenly slam my fist into the window in front of me. I jump back in pain from the extreme strength of the thin, flimsy looking glass that felt almost invisible. I didn’t even leave a scratch in the pane. I stare down at my bleeding hand. “Why won’t this end?” I try my hardest to get myself to sleep. I want to avoid conversation with anyone I can, the apartment monitor, or any other people in my way. I keep taking more and more medicine until I finally fall asleep.

 

I wake up in the hospital, the apartment monitor found me passed out. I stare around the room. I see actual people and breath a heavy sigh of relief, I’m not completely alone. I stare at my bleeding hand. It’s wrapped up in blood soaked bandages but doesn’t hurt anymore. Later that day, I’m sent back to my room, with a day off of work. Look at me, already skipping out on my second day. If circumstances were different I would immediately return to work, but I know that can’t lead to anything good.

 

I rush into my room. I grab all my personal belongings, pack them up and prepare to set off as soon as possible. I stare at the city, how could something so plain be so… creepy? I book the soonest train ride out and prepare to leave. I know I need to get out of here, no matter what.






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