THE END IS HERE: WELCOME TO THE NIGHTMARE

A nameless entity, just referred to as ze, takes over my entire life, nose-to-tail. Ze, zir, zirself, like so. Ze tells me how to eat, when to sleep, what to do with every waking second of my existence. Why? Because of the mission. The mission is so important, ze has turned off my access to all the other realities. The demonic buzzing, the oily shadows that run slick, the maddening din of hellfire, the angels in gold suits and their cousins, the rotting flowers and dead bodies, the claws at the edge of my vision, even Violet and Tiasha themselves. I’m amazed at zir power. I’ve never met an entity before that had the power to turn off Violet and Tiasha. Whatever ze says goes. I say farewell and take up my arms.

I can’t exactly see zir, or hear zir, but I can feel zir presence in all six of my senses, maybe a couple more. I don’t know how the frequencies are transmitting, but they soak me to the very soul. The mission, the mission, the mission. Every single second of every single day becomes the mission. I crack my knuckles (metaphorically) and get to typing. It’s a complex web of conspiracies, undercover work, whistleblowing, research, testing, digging through ancient archives in the fibers of the web itself. Ze tells me some things, other things are more like guidelines, framework to build this exposé on. It’s about some group. Hackers, debarred lawyers, grad school dropouts, train conductors, people like that. I’m never given any names, just their initials. Everything is hidden under layers and layers of security. I learn to encrypt my browser traffic, use VPNs that actually work, and underwater servers, public computers whenever possible.

It’s a very good thing my roommates are gone for winter break. I don’t want to explain to them what I’m doing. I myself don’t understand what I’m doing. Sleeping, eating, replying to texts, all of it becomes obstacles to the mission. Ze is patient. Ze knows that the human body cannot function too long without rest and nourishment, so ze gives me the bare parameters to stay alive and keep my fingers going. That’s something Violet and Tiasha never got, with their stupid, crazy, unreasonable demands.

Ya. Crazy. That’s what I used to be. I get it now. All that was nothing, a mere preview of what was coming. The real thing. Peace falls over my soul like winter snow on a clear night. Now that ze has revealed my true purpose to me, that’s the only thing I care about. I hand myself over to zir completely. There are only three rules. 

1. DO NOT TALK ABOUT THE MISSION 
2. DO NOT DISOBEY DIRECT ORDERS
3. DO NOT ACT SUSPICIOUS 

Right away I know the third one is the hardest. Everything I do is glazed and magnified by my friends, raising eyebrows, riddling me with phone calls, who’s this, who’s that, why are you in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night.

I write like mad, but it’s not enough. Not fast enough, things aren’t clicking into motion at the ease in which I was promised. The apartment is haunted and empty. Even Audrey prowls around the corners like something dark has leeched onto the walls. “Why won’t you just tell it to me?” I howl at zir. It’s not that simple.

Event horizon

It’s all because I had borrowed Leah’s sweater. A soft, dark red thing, very cute. Leah has the closest style to mine and we’re constantly dipping in and out of each other’s wardrobes. Leah keeps her room shut at all times, the door latched up to keep the dark and cold in. I pry open the sliding door and go in there. Other people’s rooms always fascinate me. They’re physical representations of who they are as people. Leah’s room is almost painfully neat, even when both she and her boyfriend are there. A thick curtain covers the window, blocking out all light. I don’t know how she organizes her stuff so I just fold up the sweater and leave it on the tightly made bed. Even the throw blanket is angled specifically.

As I turn to go, a flash of orange on her desk catches my eye.

The white desk is empty, except for a little makeup mirror and a box with odds and ends in it. As far as I know, Leah only takes one medication, Adderall. It sits on top of the sewing kit, glimmering as if there’s a spotlight on it. My heart is pounding in my chest as I stare at it, mesmerized.

All the calculations, the thinking, it all comes after. One second, I’m standing there, the next second the bottle is in my hand, and I’ve popped one into my mouth. I race to the kitchen and get some water. Then I take another one, for good measure.