Page 114 of Kiss Slay Replay

It’s so much pain. How is it possible to experience all this pain? How am I still alive, surviving this hope-shattering agony?

It’s not strength of spirit, because I’d tap out if I could. I’m so fucking tired. And I’m going to wake up tomorrow and have to do this all over again.

But maybe tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow I’ll find my way out. Maybe tomorrow.

Or maybe I’ll be trapped in this loop for another week, or month. Year. Years. A lifetime of waking up knowing something terrible is about to happen, anticipating the worst. A lifetime of trying and failing to keep the fear and the anxiety and the sadness at bay. A lifetime of waiting to die.

Is this my whole future? Is this it?

There’s water up my nose, something slimy slapping my face.

I’m in the lake.

They’ve dragged me to the lake. My head is in the water. I try lifting my neck, turning my face, but I can’t. They’re holding me. They’re holding my head underwater.

They’re going to drown me.

Fuck.

No.

I can’t breathe.

I exhale.

I didn’t think to take a final inhale. I didn’t know. I couldn’t see.

Not this. Not this. Not this. Not this. Not this.

But…the water is warm, and it soothes my wounds. It smells of rain, and pine. It smells fresh. Clean. And it muffles the sound of the sprites. It muffles all my thoughts. Except for one.

The only way out is through.

1

I get right out of bed. Breathe. It’s euphoric to fill my lungs with air, to release it. To be alive again.

Archimedes whines and I feed him. Make coffee. Get my deck done for work and send it, because if I don’t, that means I’m giving up, giving in. I finish packing. Take a quick shower, try not to think about drowning. Drink some water through a straw, try not to think about drowning. I look out the window and notice some rain clouds hovering in the distance.

Today’s never been rainy before.

I should leave early so I can search the woods, retrace my steps as best I can to find the wormhole. Tanya said it took her weeks. I don’t think it looked like anything; it’s not like there will be a neon sign over it marked Exit. The task before me looms large.

If I don’t find it today, what then? I wonder what horror my subconscious will manifest, or if I’m capable of redirecting the exotic matter or whatever the fuck Tanya was talking about. She made it sound like I was inadvertently contributing to the happenings in the loop, that I’m connected to or influencing the “pocket universe,” but how? By just existing inside it, by being me?

Please tell me again how I’m in a hell of my own making.

And what’s even left? Demonic clowns? Werewolves? Vampires? Ghosts? Bigfoot? I think about Bigfoot sauntering out of the woods during the cocktail hour and I don’t know. Maybe not Bigfoot. The only thing I know about the guy is that he’s the king of minding his own business.

The rain clouds. What if the horror today is a rainy outdoor wedding?

I should stop thinking about things.

“All right.” I set Archie up, then grab my phone, my keys, and my suitcase before I lose my nerve. Carry my suitcase down to the car, load it into the trunk. Climb into the driver’s seat. Plug my phone in. Pull up my playlist. Pull out onto the road.

And I try not to think about drowning.

I try not to think at all.