Chapter 41 - May 19th, 2020 - 6:30 P.M

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To my surprise, I wasn't murdered in my sleep and woke up to the calls of dinner. I have to say I expected that to be my last nap ever. If it were, I honestly wouldn't have minded too much; I felt so depressed at that moment that death felt like the only way to escape this hell.

A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.

Dinner tonight was fried and crispy vegetables with ancient pieces of beef. They probably dug it up from some Bronze Age archeological sites and cooked it. That's the only explanation I have for it. Perhaps they purposely made every meal as horrible as possible for some sick kick. Some people like to watch the world burn. Nero certainly enjoyed seeing Rome go up in flames.

As we were all eating and chatting away, I heard Morgan laughing away at nothing in the corner. I wondered what he could have possibly found so amusing before Madelynn told me that nobody knew what happened to him besides the staff, who weren't keen on telling any details.

"They told us that his reason for coming here was confidential and that we couldn't just ask for it. Rumor is that he overdosed on PCP or something like that," she whispered in my ear.

"How do you know that?" I asked curiously.

"His symptoms are incredibly similar to it. He sometimes appears to be incredibly paranoid, talks to beings that don't exist, and has strange delusions," Madelynn whispered back.

"Strange delusions?" I asked, confused.

"He thinks he's dead and in heaven. He even talked about all the people he met there, and it's incredibly detailed too. You can tell that he's not making any of it up because of that. He's fascinating," Madelynn replied, looking over to him.

Perhaps I could get to know him better...

I went over to him against the advice of both Ashley and Madelynn and started a conversation. For better or worse, my curiosity was getting the best of me.

"Hey, how are you?" I asked, faking a smile. I've faked many smiles before but faking that one was one of the most challenging things I've ever had to do.

"I'm good," he said before bursting out laughing and turning red from laughing so hard. Whatever affected him must have made virtually everything humorous, excluding the times he became paranoid. He reminded me a bit of that homeless man I once met.

"Tell me, what do you see around you?" I asked curiously, hoping to see just how differently he saw the world than the rest of us.

"A dream," he replied, suddenly taking everything seriously.

"This isn't a dream; we're in reality right now," I replied concernedly.

"Then why does everything look like one?" he asked, looking all around and pointing at random objects as if to prove a point.

"I don't know; what does a dream look like to you?" I asked, clasping my hands together.

"Everything glows unnaturally bright around you, and it all feels fake. Everything here is artificial; you're artificial; Ashley and Madelynn are artificial," he said, pointing all around the room.

"Why aren't you eating your food?" I asked, pointing at his untouched meal.

"I'm not hungry right now. I tried eating, but it didn't taste like anything to me. It's artificial like everything else," he said, sighing.

"Who do you talk to sometimes?" I asked, curious as to what or who he saw.

"Just my friends," he said casually as if the situation was completely normal.

"Your friends?" I asked curiously.

"Sure! There's Clay, Barker, and Sasha. Wanna meet them?" he asked excitedly.

"Sure!" I replied awkwardly. That was definitely one of the strangest situations I've been in during my life.

"Okay, here's Clay," he said, motioning to thin air. It helped me imagine what his friends looked like to make the situation less awkward.

"Hi, Clay!" I replied awkwardly.

"He says it's very nice to meet you, Clive," Morgan said with a wild smile. Boy, that smile looked like he was one step away from cutting you up.

"It was nice meeting him too," I replied with gritted teeth. Strangely, I felt like I was using him by asking all of these questions. I almost wondered if I was a terrible person for it.

"Oh, they gotta go," he said, frowning.

Count me in. 

The October AmaryllisDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora