by Amy Joy
“Alllieee.” It was Bryan’s voice, clear as day.
I looked around the room, but no one else looked affected. How could they not have heard that?
“Alllieee.”
Prattle continued on, unfazed.
That night, I looked up auditory hallucinations on the Acadenet.
Auditory hallucinations are often caused by psychiatric disorders, such as schizophrenia.
Great, now I’m psychotic.
I looked up schizophrenia.
Schizophrenia is often caused by a loss of contact with reality.
Yeah, that’s about right.
But the next day was even stranger.
In history class, I was flipping through the pages to the World War II chapter we were working on, when an illustration caught my eye. For the briefest moment, I thought I had seen a copy of Bryan’s painting—the size of an entire page. But when I flipped back to find it again, I couldn’t.
“Something wrong, Miss Thompson?” the Sergeant asked.
“Oh…. No,” I stammered.
“Page 225.”
I nodded and turned to the correct page.
But through the rest of the class, I couldn’t help but wonder what could be going on. Was it the shots? Was it stress? Was this The Academie’s way of punishing me for my escape?
Or could it be possible that I really was losing my mind?
In biology class, things got stranger still.
“Alliee…” the voice called again.
“ALATHEA THOMPSON!” it shouted suddenly, causing me to jump.
The class turned all eyes on me. Did they hear it?
I raised my shoulders and shook my head at those who continued to stare.
“So what was that all about?” Tina asked at dinner.
“What?”
“Your name being called in fourth period.”
“You heard that?” She wasn’t in my biology class.
“Yeah,” she answered matter-of-factly.
“You guys?” I asked the rest of the group.
“Yup,” Robert answered.
The others nodded.
I shook my head.
“What is it?” Ruby asked.
“I don’t know. It started yesterday. I started hearing his voice.”
“Who?” Stevie asked.
“Bryan.”
Cayden shifted uncomfortably.
They all knew about him. Robert had guessed it early on, and little by little, I told each of them the story—well, most of it anyway. Some knew more than others. Cayden didn’t want to know much.
“Allie, that’s not possible,” Ruby said.
“I know.” I shook my head. “I know….”
Nothing more was said about it, and that evening I searched the Acadenet for information on group delusions and mass hallucinations. After all, everyone The Academie had been separated from reality for a prolonged period of time. Who knew what could happen under these conditions?
I didn’t find much, but since the Acadenet was a limited system, I wasn’t surprised. I closed the program and saved my work for later.
Before I could shut it down, strange things began to happen to my computer. First, my curser began to move on its own. As hard as I tried to manipulate it, who—or what—ever was out there messing with it, had control.
I watched as it moved across my screen. What is it doing?
It opened my word processor. Would it go through my files? Is this how the Academie keeps tabs on what we are up to?
Then it began to type.
Allie? Is it you?
What the hell?
Who is this? I wrote back.
Allie?
What do you want?
Allie. It’s me.
My heart began to race. Could it be?
Bryan?
Yes
How do I know it’s really him? What’s my screen name?
Truth
Why did I choose it?
Alathea means truth
Oh thank god. Bryan, how are you? Where are you?
Canada.
Emotion began to overwhelm me. He was free.
Allie, I miss you so much.
I miss you too….I can’t tell you how much.
There’s so little time and so much I need to tell you. I have been trying for so long. I tried to get to you directly, so many times, to tell you, but I couldn’t get a response. Then I tried to show you.
Bryan, slow down. You aren’t making any sense.
They kept shutting me down and I’d have to find other paths. It wasn’t easy, but I had to tell you. You have to know the truth.
What do you mean you tried to get to me directly? Is that how we heard you?
You heard me? Wait—who’s we?
Everyone
Damn! no wonder
How long have you been in Canada?
Allie, I’m sorry, but there’s no time for that. They’re going to shut me down again, I’m sure of it. But you need to know the truth first. I figured it out.
what? what did you figure out?
none of it’s
Pheeeuuw! The computer screamed as the monitor flashed and went black.
“What was that?” Tina asked, hurrying over.
I stood up and started to scramble about the computer, looking for any type of connection that could indicate that I had internet access. “I don’t know….How in the hell?” I started mumbling to myself. “There’s nothing here…”
I gave up and sat back down. Did that just happen?
I sat in silence as Tina looked on.
Finally, I pulled my hands to my head and looked to the ceiling. “This place is starting to mess with me. I really think I’m losing it.”
Tina didn’t disagree.
That night I dreamt of Bryan. I couldn’t see him. Everything was fuzzy. What was clear was his voice, calling to me again and again. Allie…I need to talk to you! I figured it out…
“What’s wrong with you?” Robert asked as I sat down at breakfast.
“Hey, give her a break,” Cayden defended. “She’s obviously having a rough day.”
“Are you okay?” Ruby asked.
“I don’t know.” I stared blankly and shook my head.
“What happened?” Stevie asked.
I sat there, uncertain how—or if— I should say anything.
Robert set down his fork. “Come on. Out with it.”
“I talked to Bryan.”
“You what?” It was a unison response, but Cayden was by far the loudest.
“I talked to Bryan.”
Robert responded just as I expected. “Girl, now you really have lost it.”
“I know. I mean, I couldn’t have, right?”
A long silence followed. No one seemed to know what to say.
“But I did,” I repeated.
Ruby was the first to speak. “How?”
“Last night. On the computer.”
“Oh, that’s what was going on before it blew up,” Tina said.
“Your computer blew up?” Ruby asked.
“Well, the monitor went out suddenly. But I tried it this morning, and it was fine.”
“What did Bryan say?” Stevie asked.
“He said he’s in Canada. And that he’s been trying to contact me directly, which might explain how everyone heard him.”
“So he’s squelched your concern for him and made you feel as though you are not insane after all?” Robert asked. “Sounds like delusions or a type of psychosis to me,” I heard him whisper to Cayden as he leaned over to speak in his ear. “Could be schizophrenia.”
“I know what you’re thinking and saying Robert. And I agree with you. But what if I’m not crazy? Don’t forget: everyone heard him.”
“What makes you think it was him?” Robert asked. “I just heard some guy. He didn’t say it was Bryan. As far as I know, it was someone in the main office trying to get a hold of you.”
The group was quiet again.
“Where are you going?” Ruby asked as I picked up my tray.
“I need some time alone to clear my head.” I picked up my tray and looked over at Cayden. “Please don’t follow me.”
He looked hurt, as I knew he would.
But I knew where I was headed, and I couldn’t risk being followed.
36. the fine line of sanity
I found the gap in the fence again easily. I turned my head, slipped through, and headed for the coffee shop. It wasn’t much, but it was a place to think.
“Welcome to Common Grounds. Can I help you?” The chipper lady with the bright red lipstick was back behind the counter again.
“Just water, please.”
“Sure.” She grabbed a cup and headed for the faucet.
“Thanks,” I said as she handed me the cup.
“No problem. Let me know if you need anything else.”
I headed for the window where I'd sat before.
Then I noticed them: the same old woman and caregiver that were here the last time.
“The pills help your confusion,” the caregiver was saying.
“No! They steal my memories! ...Today I feel alive again…”
Do they go through this every day?
I tuned them out as the old woman continued. I needed to focus on my own situation. I turned and looked out the window. Maybe I’m losing my mind…
“Do you know where they found him, Nancy? The candy store!”
The old woman’s story broke through my thoughts. I looked over at them. That caregiver is sweet to act like she never heard this before.
“I don’t want it!”
The sound of a child screaming on the other side of me caught my attention.
“Johnny, you have to eat it! This is what we have. We’re not made of money….We can’t even pay the rent.”
It was the same family from before. Do all these people come here and replay the same thing every day?
The dad went to the counter for a box.
“We’ll take it home. Come on, drink your juice.”
The child’s crying slowed as he picked up the cup and slid the straw into his mouth. Silent tears ran down his face. He looked at me and then back at his father.
In the back, someone dropped a tray of dishes.
I grabbed my cup of water, chucked it into the trashcan, and hurried out the door.
The sun and humidity struck me as I stepped outside. It was an oppressive kind of heat that drew up memories of running through sprinklers.
I don’t remember it being this warm when I went in there.
Something’s going on. Could I really be losing my mind? I considered the possibility as I headed back to the school.
Halfway back, I realized that nothing looked familiar.
I’d been through the neighborhood three times now and thought I knew the way, but everything looked different somehow.
I could feel little droplets of sweat forming on my face. Where am I? The area looked familiar—but not right.
I continued walking. The sooner I find my way out of this, the better.
Then something caught my eye that sent chills running through me. I stopped and stared. In front of me stood a white Cape Cod I had definitely seen before. The gold numbers by door read “1423.”
Could it be?
My eyes flicked to the mailbox and found the placard hanging down: “The Allens”.
Bryan’s house.
But it wasn’t possible. I knew it wasn’t.
I panicked and took off running. If I ran fast enough, perhaps I run could outrun the madness that seemed to be overtaking me.
As I ran, the world around me became an abstract blur. The plants withered in the oppressive heat, reminding me of something I knew I had seen before but now needed to push from my mind. Bryan’s painting. It’s not. None of it is real.
I looked up to see a sturdy brick and metal structure: The Academie.
I shoved myself through the fence and collapsed to ground.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I rocked back and forth as the tears poured out from what felt like an endless pit of hurt and rage.
My head hurt so bad, I thought I might explode. I cried harder, hoping to cry out the pain. The world was blurry, and I sat there, sobbing, choking, gasping for breath.
Then I heard him.
“Allie?”
The voice was different this time.
“Allie?”
I knew this voice too.
I didn’t want to look up.
I tried to ignore him.
“Allie, are you alright?”
“What are you doing here, Matt?”
“I knew you’d be here. They told me to keep an eye on you, remember? They told me where you might be.”
I wiped the tears from my face and tried to muster some semblance of dignity. My eyes still wanted to cry. “So you’re spying on me?”
“Allie, look, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“No, I really am.”
“This is another tactic, right? Befriend her in order to engage her trust—”
“It’s not like that!”
I stared at him, annoyed. I didn’t need this now. I didn’t need him here, interrogating me.
“Allie, I know what an ass I was now. I know how wrong I was.”
I didn’t believe him.
“I need to talk to you about something—something I’ve found. You’re the only one I think might believe me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said.”
“What, that I didn’t want to have anything to do with you anymore?”
“Well, that, yes. But no,” he shook his head in a frustrated gesture I’d seen him make a hundred times. “Something else.”
“What?”
“That this isn’t the real world.”
“It took you this long to figure out that school isn’t like real life?”
“No, it’s more than that. I’ve been noticing things.”
“What?”
“Weird things. Nothing big. Just, little things. Stupid things.”
“Like what?”
“Our laundry, for example. It always gets washed, but where does it go? Who brings it back?”
“You’re worried about the laundry service?”
“No, not just that. There’s more. The food. Where does it come from?”
“What does it matter?”
“Have you ever seen it delivered?”
“No. So it happens during classes. So what?”
“Fine. How about this: no one is pregnant.”
“What?”
“Guys and girls locked up in a closed environment together. Plenty of relationships going on. No parents watching over it all. You do the math.”
“Well, the sergeants are there all the time. Where would the couples go? We don’t get a lot of free time.”
“You got away.”
He was right. I had slipped up to the dorm more than once when I wasn’t allowed and no one seemed to notice, and I’d been off school grounds twice now without being spotted. Odds were, a couple could steal moments away for whatever they wanted and not get caught.
“Maybe they’ve just been lucky?”
“Come on. Think about it.”
“Okay, fine. It’s weird.”
“There’ve been so many other weird things too. Inconsistencies…”
I considered telling him everything but decided against it. I didn’t know if I could trust him yet.
That night, I dreamt of Bryan again. We were back in his bedroom, his arms wrapped around me and our fingers tangled together as we lay on his bed. Everything was perfect, and I finally felt safe and comfortable again. Like I was home.
Then I looked down at our hands. To my horror, mine were covered in thick, gooey paint; colors swirled and blended in an unappealing fashion.
>
I sat up quickly and found I was covered in it—layers of earthy greens and browns were caked on my feet, legs, and thighs. Much of it was still clumpy and wet. It was smeared everywhere, staining his bedcovers.
“Oh Bryan, I’m so sorry….I walked through your painting.”
“It’s okay,” he said, now sitting up too. “I knew you would.”
I started to cry and attempted to wipe the tears, but my hands were too covered in paint. I shook my head and flailed my hands in frustration. “I’m losing my mind!”
“No,” he said, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. “You’re finding it.”
The dream hung with me as I went down to breakfast.
“How are you doing today?” Stevie asked.
“Fine. Weird dreams.” I was still trying to shake it off.
Robert looked at me over his glasses. “Heard anything interesting lately?”
I wasn’t amused. “Yes, actually. I had a really interesting conversation with Matt yesterday.”
“You guys are speaking again?” Ruby asked.
“Apparently so. He just came up to me and said he was sorry and then went on about some weird stuff he’s been noticing.”
“Like what?” Stevie asked.
“Something about the laundry mysteriously getting done, and the food being secretly delivered, and the fact that nobody here is pregnant.”
“You guys are both a couple of interesting characters,” Robert answered.
“No, I noticed that,” Tina said. “Nobody’s knocked up. It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“It’s great,” Robert replied.
Tina rolled her eyes.
“You guys haven’t noticed anything else strange, have you?” I asked, pretty much knowing the response I’d get.
They shook their heads, and the conversation moved on to other things.
“I noticed a couple of weird things,” Tina confessed as we got ready for bed that night.
I looked up from the drawer I’d been rummaging through for my bed clothes.
“It’s stupid, really. Probably nothing. I just…I went to put on my shoes one day and I thought they said they were size seven—I wear an eight—but I put them on and they fit fine. The next day, for whatever reason, I looked again, and they said eight.”