Ensnared

It was a cold, grey, lonely day. The waves crashed onto the shore as she walked along the dreary beach. The quiet brunette took measured steps as seagulls flew around, cawing loudly. Suddenly, she whipped around, her limp, curly hair flying around her face. Her hollow, lifeless eyes scanned the scene and she glanced around, feeling like something or someone was watching her. She picked up her pace and her breathing accelerated. The wind blew harder, blowing her hair about her. The cold air filled her lungs and she found it difficult to breathe. She moved quickly in fear, casting another glance behind herself.
The uncertainty and doubt she felt had been ever-present in her mind lately. She couldn’t even recognize the person she had become. The once beautiful, intelligent, and confident girl she used to be had broken down into an unrecognizable version of her former self. This mental and physical deterioration had taken a toll on her relationships. Friends, family- no one seemed to be able to connect with her anymore.
Everything fell silent now; the cawing seagulls, the crashing waves, the howling wind. All she could hear was the uneven beating of her heart and her hitched breathing. Her thoughts were all over the place. Her hands shook; partly due to the chill in the air and partly because of knowing who might be watching her. A chill ran down her spine. She tripped over her feet in her haste and took a swift glance behind herself. Nothing. Yet she still had that terrifying feeling of being watched. As her thoughts sped up, her body slowed down. She couldn’t move properly anymore.
She realized that her mind was ensnared by the insanity created by her personal stalker. The situation had escalated so much over those two years of being stalked that she felt she was always being watched. There were endless possibilities of what could be out there stalking her right now, or it could be nothing at all. She had now reached a level of insanity that she never thought was possible.
Her paranoia heightened. She didn't know where her stalker might be. Behind her? Beside her? She stared ahead, looking towards the small town. She headed back to her beach house and walked down Main Street. The once-familiar shops and scenery she knew were now shadowy clouds of oblivion. Her family had never been an integral part of her life, but now even her friends were on the outside. Who was left for her to trust?
She stumbled down the paved roads, eyes not completely seeing, until she reached her house. The door was locked and she had forgotten how to use the key. These simple everyday tasks were now challenges for her to cope with. She crouched down and sat on the wooden steps, her thoughts still spinning wildly out of control. Everything grew quiet again. Her empty eyes stared blankly out in front of her. She blinked and experienced a flash of intuition. She remembered that the back door was still unlocked. She gathered herself off the porch and trudged around the house to the back entrance.
She entered the old house, mumbling to herself as she sat down on the grey sofa. Images of her walk on the beach flashed before her eyes. She remembered that someone had been following her. Her resurgent fear prompted her to scurry upstairs to her bedroom. The floorboards creaked under her bare feet. As she proceeded upstairs, a new smell made its presence felt and she sniffed at the air, trying to locate the origin of the smell. Unsuccessful in trying to pinpoint the strange smell, she walked into her room. She had hardly taken one step when, “AAAHHH!” She let out a bloodcurdling shriek. A dead body was on the floor of her bedroom. Tears brimmed over the surface of her eyes and fell down her sallow cheeks. Her knees gave out from underneath her and she collapsed onto the floor. Her breath came in heaving gasps and she shuddered, unable to compose or control herself.
She reached one pale hand out in front of her to see who it was since the head was covered. Just as she was about to touch the body, she froze. A part of the body’s skin was exposed and revealed a tattoo there. It was him. This was her lover. He was gone. He had left her. She was afraid of something like this happening. She knew it could only be a matter of time until her stalker came after other things in her life. The sobbing picked up again and now she sat with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She rocked back and forth as she thought of what to do next. She suddenly looked up, all traces of tears gone.
She swiftly stood up and walked downstairs and out of the house. She began to wander on the streets. She simply walked aimlessly on the roads. Who knows how long she was out there? All that mattered was that he was gone and now there was truly no one left for her. One by one, everyone had been knocked out of her life until she was the only one left standing. What was the point of living anymore? She knew she had to get out of this place.

Meanwhile, her older sister, Jenny, had just reached the house after a long day of work in the city. She called her sister’s name, “Jamie! Jamie! Where are you?” She knew that her sister had not been herself lately, but the reason why was beyond her. Jenny knew that if she was honest with herself, the reason why she knew nothing about Jamie’s new state was because she never bothered asking. She searched around the house hoping that Jamie had fallen asleep somewhere. She looked around the entire house and could not find Jamie anywhere. Fearing that Jamie had run away or tried to harm herself for some reason, Jenny called the police.
Jamie did not stop walking, even when darkness finally fell over the town. She did not even notice the sound of sirens blaring around town. She just walked, uttering his name repeatedly under her breath. He was the last one left for her, and now he had been taken away from her too. As that thought ensnared her mind, she began to hyperventilate. She curled up into a ball and sat on a street corner, crying softly.
Footsteps approached her. It was a police officer. She asked Jamie what her name was, but did not receive a reply. She examined Jamie a little. It appeared that she was not in a right state of mind. She used her walkie-talkie to let the other officers know that Jamie was in a distraught state. They decided to turn her in for a psychiatric evaluation. They loaded Jamie into the cop car and drove her down to the next town for admittance into the psych ward.
The next day, Jenny came to visit Jamie. Jamie was asleep when Jenny came in. Jenny looked at her once-beautiful sister. Her lustrous brown curls were now limp, straggly pieces that fell around her face. Her fair, even complexion had now given way to a sallow, sickly tone. The girl that once dressed meticulously was now in the garb of a mental patient; a loose, white, cotton gown hung on Jamie’s thin frame. She woke up. Her sister’s face swam lazily before her empty eyes. She rolled onto her side, turning away from Jenny.
“Where is he now?” Jamie asked.
“Where is who now? What are you talking about, Jamie?” Jenny replied.
“Ben. I found him at the house yesterday. Dead.” Her voice broke on the last word.
“What? No one is dead, Jamie.”
“No! He is dead! He was on the floor of my bedroom!”
“Jamie, calm down.” As she said this, an attendant came in and held Jamie down while another attendant gave her a tranquilizing shot.
Jamie went silent again as she did not know what to say to make them believe her. Jenny left the room with the attendants and they explained Jamie’s condition to her. She was experiencing hallucinations. She was seeing things where there was nothing to be seen. She heard and smelled things where there was nothing to be heard or smelled. She would have to spend significant time in the psych ward to get better, they said. Jamie had already heard this and she drifted off into sleep.
With a jolt, she woke up. Jamie was in a white canopy bed in her house in the suburbs. She was home. “It was all just a dream,” she thought to herself.