Greg returned to his desk and used the last few minutes of his lunch break to quickly eat his burger, it tasted bland and cheap, it reminded him of the burgers his school had served when he was a kid, it was like the patties weren’t made from real beef. He wondered if he’d accidentally been served an “impossible” burger made from plants but finished it anyway, it had cost him $13, and he wasn’t letting it go to waste. He checked his phone again to see if he had any notifications about Matt, but there was nothing. Greg got back to work, focusing on finishing out the day with the minimal amount of weird stuff happening, all things considered it could have been worse, he’d figured his first day back would be challenging though. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bob walk up to Alex who was working at his computer and the two started talking. Greg wasn’t paying attention to their conversation but could overhear a few words like “Bomb” and “Parlay” coming from the two. Greg pulled out his ear buds then remembered his phone was missing, annoyed he scanned his desk and spotted it sitting where he thought he left it even though he couldn’t remember seeing it there before. Well, how do you like that? Greg thought as he grabbed the phone and opened his music app, he looked over at Bob and Alex and thought about asking if either of them had found his phone but figured it didn’t matter. He put his ear buds in, loaded his favorite playlist and zoned out for the rest of the day.
Greg arrived back home, and he was happy to be there, he thought about giving Dr. Thomas a call but figured he’d have another session with him soon enough. He walked down the hall to his apartment and could hear what sounded like a woman crying from one of the other units nearby. Greg figured she was having a bad day; he’d heard plenty of noises from his neighbors including screams and laughter and blaring music and never paid them much mind. He continued walking and saw one of his neighbor’s young kids run across the perpendicular hallway giggling wildly, as he got closer to where the kid had been Greg saw that they’d scrawled stick figures in marker all over the wall along with some scribbled words he couldn’t make out. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and he knew the superintendent wouldn’t be happy about it.
Greg entered his apartment and breathed a long sigh of relief. He grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, sat on the couch and flipped on the news, setting his phone on the coffee table. After a couple hours he thought about walking to the corner store and grabbing a six pack but decided against it. He went into his bedroom and saw his hamper was full, he always procrastinated on doing laundry but figured he should at least have a clean outfit for tomorrow. After gathering his dirty clothes into a trash bag, he made his way to the laundry room on the first floor.
Greg sat on a small chair near the window of the laundry room and listened as the washer hummed and shook while cleaning his clothes. He missed doing this sort of thing, at the facility they did your laundry for you, but you usually had to wear scrubs or patient gowns at least when you’re first admitted. He missed his own clothes, and he missed doing things for himself even if they were mundane. Greg scrolled through his phone messages and tried to remember that weird number that had texted him in his dream but it along with other aspects of the dream were just a blur, he figured it was better he didn’t remember it. Greg got to his feet and looked out the window into the other part of the apartment complex across the courtyard. It was dark, but he saw people walking past their windows or watching TV in their units, he could even see someone’s cat lounging on top of a couch.
On the ground level he noticed a tall figure staring out at him from a hallway window, they were draped in shadow so Greg couldn’t see what they looked like. Greg stared for a moment, then to cut the awkwardness he raised his hand in a greeting, but the figure just stood there unmoving. Greg looked a moment longer and then a car passed by, and its headlights illuminated the window where the figure stood, Greg gasped as he saw it was Christopher glaring at him with his dead eyes. He backed away from the window, feeling weak, and then a voice behind him said “Hey”. Greg jumped and wheeled around to see a Hispanic woman in a blue sweater entering the room, she was carrying a full laundry basket with her.
She apologized for scaring Greg, he caught his breath and told her not to worry about it. He turned back to the window but Christopher, or whoever it had been, was gone. The woman asked him how he’d been doing, Greg told her he was fine, he wasn’t sure be he’d probably seen her around the complex at one point or another, there were a lot of Hispanic families living in these apartments. Greg’s laundry buzzed, causing him to jump again, the noise was like a piercing alarm. The woman snickered at this and made a remark about how jumpy white guys were, prompting Greg to laugh. He walked over and began putting his wet clothes into the dryer as she made her way to one of the other machines. Greg closed the lid, looked over at the woman to see her putting scrubs into the washer, and asked if she was a nurse.
She looked over at him with a surprised expression, then smiled and said, “Don’t tell me you don’t remember me, Greg.” Greg was a little taken aback, he might have seen this woman before, but had they every spoken? He was about to ask how she knew his name when she pulled her phone down and glanced at her screen with a concerned look on her face, she looked back up at Greg and said, “Sorry I have to take this, it was good seeing you.” She started the washer and walked out of the room talking on her phone. Greg waited for a moment and then peaked his head out from the doorway and watched her walk down the hallway toward the foyer of the apartment complex entrance. She got to the open space and turned, and it looked like she was talking to someone on the other side of the wall who Greg couldn’t see. He watched her for a few moments before she turned and looked back down the hallway, Greg ducked back inside the laundry room hoping he wasn’t spotted. He paced around the room for a few seconds, trying to remember if he’d ever spoken to or seen that woman before, and if it had been at the apartments…or the facility. He thought about Curtis as well, had he been a client of Greg’s company, or had they met somewhere else before? He felt the paranoia creep back into his brain, he needed his meds, he started the dryer and walked into the hallway to see the woman was gone.
His phone began buzzing, he looked and saw it was Matt calling him, he answered but all he could hear was the muffled sound of Matt yelling, his blood ran cold. Hello? Hello!” Greg shouted, mindful to not draw the attention of that woman or whoever she had been talking to. He heard what sounded like a loud crash and then the call disconnected. Greg tried calling Matt but only got his voice mail, he left a message asking if his friend was alright and telling Matt to call him back immediately. He could feel his heart racing, he needed to relax, he peered around the edge of the door again and looked down both ends of the hallway but didn’t see anyone. Greg exited the room and hurriedly headed up the back staircase to avoid being seen.
Greg walked down the hallway to his apartment, he made his way past the section of the wall where the kid had drawn the stick figures and noticed that someone had tried scrubbing the marker off, now the stick figures looked like crucifixes. He felt his heart start beating faster and walked quickly towards his unit. Getting inside he made a bee line for his bathroom where he swallowed a handful of his medications and washed them down with a gulp of water. He went into his living room, sat on the couch and began rubbing his head, which had started to ache, he wanted to call Dr. Thomas, but it was too late at night. Greg dreaded going back down to the laundry room after his clothes dried, he thought that woman might be down there, whoever she was he didn’t want to run into her again. Had she been messing with him? Did she know of his condition and was just trying to have a laugh? Was someone paying her to bother him?
He texted a few of his friends including his dad, it was late on a work night, but he just wanted somebody to talk to even if it was just a couple messages back and forth. Laying back on his couch he let out a long sigh and thought again about walking to the party store down the block to get a six pack or even a tall boy. He hemmed and hawed about it for a couple minutes then said fuck it, grabbed his keys and walked out of his apartment.
It was a cold night; Greg didn’t have a jacket but the beer store was less than half a block away from his complex, he could see it from where he was. The store was located inside a strip mall between a laundromat and a head shop, the neon sign read Harris Liquor in tall red letters above the façade. There were a couple of cars in the lot, a red SUV and a dark green sedan were parked right outside the entrance. The sedan’s window was down and there was a young Cuban guy with a Lakers hat on sitting in the driver’s seat, Greg had seen him around before, usually asking people for money with a sob story. The guy spotted Greg and said:
“Hey man, can you spot me a ten? My girlfriend just kicked me out and I need some gas!”
Greg said he was sorry but couldn’t help him, the guy looked dejected and muttered something to himself before turning his attention back to his phone. Entering the store, Greg nodded at the curly haired ethnic guy working behind the counter and made his way to the beer section. There was a smell of incense sticks burning in the store and it was a little intense, but Greg didn’t mind. After browsing the selection for a moment, Greg settled on a can of domestic pilsner but as he opened the cooler door something caught his eye in the convex mirror in the upper corner of the store. He looked and saw someone who looked like Matt ducking into one of the aisles behind him. Greg turned and raced over to where he’d seen the person, but the aisle was empty. Feeling irritated, Greg looked around the store to see if he could spot whoever it was, then walked around the rear of the store and checked down every aisle. The clerk noticed him and asked if he was alright. Greg realized how it must have looked to him and said he was fine, he walked up to the counter and asked the clerk if he’d ever seen a guy matching the description he gave of Matt in the store, he told Greg that he hadn’t and asked again if he was alright. Greg told him he thought that people were fucking with him, he saw that the clerk was wearing a tank top but on the stool behind the counter there was draped a blue polo shirt. He also saw the TV in the corner was playing a soap opera and the strong scent of incense started to smell like piss. Greg began feeling very nervous again, the clerk looked at him and said:
“It’s alright Greg, just take your meds.”
Gregs stomach dropped…he began backing out of the store and pointing at the clerk accusingly.
“You’re fucking with me; you’re all fucking with me!”
The clerk put his hands up and told him to take it easy, but Greg had had enough.
“Fuck you man! I’m out and I’m not going back!”
Greg stormed out of the store, the Cuban guy was still out in the lot in his car, he looked at Greg and repeated the question he’d asked him earlier, word for word. Greg ignored him and raced back to his apartment. His feet pounded the sidewalk concrete, the chill Fall wind entered his lungs and burned them as he ran but it didn’t slow him down. He reached his apartment’s parking lot and could see the entrance to his building getting nearer with each step. His car was under a streetlamp and there was a puddle of something underneath the front driver’s side tire. He thought it might be transmission fluid but as he drew nearer he could see it had the thickness and consistency of blood, and the left side of his front bumper was splattered with it, Greg began to panic. Then he heard someone shout “Greg!” and he stopped in his tracks, it was his father’s voice. Breathing heavily, he began looking around, it was so dark, outside the rings of light cast by the streetlamps he could barely see anything. He wanted to call back to his father…or whoever it was but didn’t want to draw attention to himself, someone else could have been out there for all he knew. He heard other footsteps running up behind him, before he could do anything he was tackled to the ground, his body hit the pavement, and his vision went dark.
While he was out Greg dreamed he was driving, but something felt off and he couldn’t put his finger on it. He was on a street in a neighborhood similar to his own, he didn’t know where he was going, he just knew that he was driving. It was a sunny day out and he was taking in the scenery. He had a weird feeling, like he hadn’t been driving for a while even though he had been back and forth to work multiple times since being released. There was someone walking on the side of the road, as he passed them, he could see it was Matt wearing his trademark grey hoodie, but the look on Matt’s face was something Greg hadn’t seen from his friend before. Matt seemed like he always had a grin on his face, but in this dream, he was staring straight ahead with a dead look in his eyes and a somber expression. Greg hadn’t talked to Matt in what felt like ages, so he pulled the car over and looked back at the street to see if his buddy was out there, but it was empty, there was no one in sight. Suddenly there came a shout and something struck Greg’s drivers side window hard enough to crack it. Greg screamed and then it was over.
He woke up from his bed with a yell and began looking around his room. The dream was even more vivid than his last. He could recall falling on his shoulder after being tackled, he checked for any scrapes or bruises but could find none, it didn’t even hurt. He ripped the covers off his bed ran into his bathroom to take his pills, then began searching for his phone, he had to talk to Dr. Thomas and book an appointment or get his medications checked or something, his old worried about going back to the facility were put out of his mind. He looked around his bedroom and living room but couldn’t find his phone anywhere, he felt frustration turning to rage. His hands balled into fists, and he wanted to put a hole in the wall but checked himself. Greg stood in his living room feeling the tension reverberating down his neck, he closed his eyes, began breathing in and out and relaxed his hands. He didn’t know where his cellphone was, but it didn’t matter in the big scheme of things, he was worried that he was losing his mind again. Had he left the facility too early? Had he needed more time to get his mind right? Were the people he was seeing even real? He sat on his couch with his head in his hands and sat there contemplating the things that had been happening to him.
He could remember, during the time his condition was at its worst, that everything had felt like a dream, he had felt as if he’d left his corporeal body behind and was in some other space away from reality. Most of that was just a blur to him now, the therapy and medication had dragged him back into sanity, but had it been enough to keep him there? He took another deep breath in and out and tried to remember where he’d left his cell phone. He usually brought it to bed with him, but he’d checked, and it wasn’t on the mattress or in the covers, it hadn’t been on his nightstand either. He looked at the coffee table and, as if by magic, his phone was there, it was like it materialized out of nowhere. Greg could’ve sworn there’d been nothing on the coffee table when he’d entered the room, he got an eerie feeling but dismissed it, the important thing was that he had his phone. He grabbed it up and dialed Dr. Thomas’s office, after a few rings it went to voicemail. Frustrated again, Greg left a terse message asking the doctor if he could book an appointment soon and ended the call. He called his dad as well to make sure he was alright, the dream still hung over him, he could remember the look on his dad’s face and it bothered him, it rang several times and then it went to voicemail as well, Greg left a message that he hoped sounded aloof enough to not worry his father and hung up.
He paced around his living room for a minute debating on whether he should go back to work, he figured it would be ridiculous to call off simply because he’d had a weird dream. But he also thought of how odd people had been acting on his first day back at the office, but after thinking about it for a minute he chalked it up to people just being on edge since he just had been released from a psychiatric facility and there was a lot of stigma around mental health these days, maybe they hadn’t known the appropriate way to react. Plus, he did need the money, he didn’t want to borrow money from his dad, he felt he was long past that age. Yeah, it had been uncomfortable to go back to work, but what else was he going to do, quit? He made himself a coffee and got ready to go back to the office.
Greg arrived at the office and saw that Curtis was at the receptionist’s desk waiting for him. When Greg approached, Curtis greeted him and patted him on the shoulder. “How are we feeling today man?” He asked Greg with a big grin; Greg was a bit confused but told him he was doing fine. Curtis’s face changed to a serious expression, and he told Greg that there was someone there that he wanted him to talk to. Greg wasn’t sure what he meant by that, so he asked Curtis if he was referring to a therapist. Curtis hesitated for a second and then told him “Something like that, yeah…” Greg was apprehensive at first, but after thinking about it for a moment he figured that it might be good for him to speak to someone in a professional manner, especially because he hadn’t been able to reach Dr. Thomas for the last few days.
Curtis brought Greg into the main floor and directed him towards one of the offices. Greg noticed there were a few more people there than there were yesterday. He saw Alex by the coffee machine and Bob inside the break room on his phone, some things never change. He saw Amy walking with someone he didn’t recognize, they were wearing a grey sweatsuit and were covering their face with their hands, Amy appeared as if she were trying to console them, Greg noticed the color of Amy’s hair was different, she must have dyed it. He also noticed Jordan and the heavyset black guy Curtis had been speaking with yesterday, they were in the conference room speaking with Frank, he could see them through the window. There was something different about Frank as well, but Greg couldn’t determine it, somehow Frank looked thinner than he had yesterday, maybe it was his outfit or something. Curtis turned to Greg as they walked and said:
“We can’t have another incident like last night Greg”
Greg didn’t know what he was talking about, but suddenly he felt a bolt of pain in his shoulder, he groaned and began rubbing it. Curtis noticed and said:
“Is it still bugging you? Sorry about Bradley, he gets a little carried away sometimes, but he does have to put up with a lot of crazy shit as I’m sure you know. I can get some ibuprofen for you if you’d like.”
Greg froze, and looked at Curtis, doing his best to maintain composure, he asked him who Bradley was. Curtis looked confused for a moment, he began rubbing his chin as if he were contemplating something, then said:
“Did you hit your head last night man?”
Frank called out to them from the other side of the room, he said he wanted to talk to Greg. Curtis placed a hand on his back and directed him towards Frank’s office. Greg wondered if Frank would have any answers for him, maybe he could ask to take a leave of absence and get his head right, maybe his meds weren’t working. As they walked Curtis told Greg it was going to be alright, but Greg didn’t feel reassured. They passed Amy and something about her seemed different to Greg, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it though, Amy was moving differently, her mannerisms had changed but they were somehow still familiar to Greg, but he felt she was reminding him of someone else he’d met. They entered Frank’s office, Frank told Greg to have a seat and asked Curtis to close the door and wait outside. Greg’s boss looked different, and his office was different as well, medical degrees now hung on the wall behind the desk. The picture of the girl with the cap and gown was still there but now there were other pictures of the girl, and the color of the paint on the walls seemed darker. Frank himself looked different, but as with Amy he still seemed familiar. Frank began to speak.
“Greg, you’ve made progress here, but after that incident last night I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay for a while longer.”
Greg was confused, what did Frank mean by stay? Could he not leave work? What was Frank talking about, and did his voice seem different? Frank, or this guy that looked like Frank, continued.
“I don’t know what caused you to run off last night, and while your father was visiting as well. Bradley was a little rough with you and for that I apologize, but you must understand the measures we have to take to keep others safe Greg.”
Greg felt his heart pumping faster again, he began to sweat and feel woozy. He looked at Frank, but it wasn’t Frank, none of these people were his coworkers. He saw his boss’s face begin to shift, his cheeks became narrower, his hair changed from grey to brown, his wrinkles began to smooth over. This time Greg could recognize this person, it was Dr. Thomas, and he was inside his office at the facility. The doctor looked concerned, “Greg are you alright?” Greg’s wrist began itching again, he looked down and instead of his watch it was a hospital bracelet, he looked down at his outfit and saw he was wearing a dirty T-shirt and scrub pants, the shirt had been something his dad had dropped off when he was at…Oh shit! Greg thought, he got up from the chair and Dr. Thomas told him to stop before Greg pulled the door open and saw a hallway, the hallway of the hospital he’d been at. Curtis stepped in front of him wearing an all-blue uniform with a tag that said, “Grand Valley Psychiatric Facility”, he put a hand on Greg and told him to take it easy. Beyond Curtis’s shoulder Greg could see Amy walk up, but it wasn’t Amy, her face was shifting as Frank’s had, it became longer and her skin became less smooth, and her chin was becoming rounder. Amy was actually Sarah, one of the nurses at the facility who’d been working with him. Greg looked behind them and he saw the Hispanic woman from the laundry room and the clerk from the liquor store assistant an elderly patient into their room. There were two figures past them, it was Bob and Alex, they looked at him for a moment before turning and walking down the hallway, their bodies began to shimmer and soon they started fading away like an old movie effect before disappearing completely. It was all too much for Greg, his vision grew dark, and he fell forward to be caught by Curtis and Sarah.
Greg woke up in his bed, only it wasn’t his bed at his apartment, he was back in his room at the facility, he was disoriented and out of sorts. “Hello Greg.” A voice came from Greg’s left, startling him. Greg looked and saw that it was Dr. Thomas, the doctor was seated on a chair and holding a notebook. Greg had questions, he wanted to know what was going on, was this another dream or something his mind cooked up from the medication? His mind was swimming and Dr. Thomas told him to just relax as Greg began rubbing his temples, the truth about his situation starting to become apparent. His eyes met the doctors, and he said:
“I wasn’t out, was I?”
“No Greg, you’ve been here the whole time.” Responded Dr. Thomas as he began writing in his notebook, he continued, “What we think happened was you became delusional and believed you had left the facility, we’re not sure if it was a result of untreated trauma or the medication or some vestiges of your schizophrenic condition.” Greg asked him why it felt as if he were out of the facility, the doctor responded:
“It was the day your father visited, it must have sparked something in you, you actually tried to leave with him when the visit was over, we had to stop you. It may have been at that point that you began this sort of fantasy that you’d gotten out.”
Greg felt reality clicking back into focus for the first time in a while, maybe the first real time it had since he went into the facility God knew how long ago. Dr. Thomas went on:
“You seemed to think some of the staff here were your coworkers at your office, I believe you even thought Sarah was one of them.”
Greg didn’t mention how he thought the doctor was his boss, Frank.
“And others, like Curtis and Bradley, you didn’t seem to recognize at all, or at least thought they were new workers at your company. Other people you simply hallucinated like your coworker Bob; we could hear you talking to him. And you kept stealing your cellphone out of the storage room, not sure how you managed that.” Dr. Thomas said. “And tell me Greg, do you remember driving anywhere?”
Greg could remember going between the office and his apartment, but couldn’t remember how, it was if he’d walk out one door and come in through another, he felt as if he’d must have been driving but couldn’t remember the last time he actually had, he didn’t know how to describe that feeling. He looked at the doctor and shook his head and the doctor nodded and said:
“And there’s the matter of your escape, you found your way into one of the secure areas of the facility somehow, Jason tried to talk some sense into you, but you fled out of a door, we had to call your father, he came very quickly…”
Greg interrupted the doctor to ask if he knew anything about Matt. Dr. Thomas turned his eyes down and sighed, then he looked back up.
“Your friend Matt is dead…”
This hit Greg like a ton of bricks, he felt his chest become tight and tears start forming in his eyes.
“Whu-what?” Stammered Greg, who began to feel sick to his stomach. Dr. Thomas regarded him with a concerned look and went on to say:
“Yes, you uh…you hit him with your car during your psychotic break, apparently, he was trying to talk some sense into you. You’d been sending him weird text messages and he’d come over to see if you were okay, he confronted you when you were in your car, it’s something you must have suppressed. We figured a big reason why you thought you were out was because of some subconscious guilt you had over it. You wanted to believe things were back to normal so badly you manifested them in your mind.”
Greg didn’t respond, he sat on the bed with his head in his hands weeping. Dr. Thomas came over and consoled him, telling him it wasn’t his fault, which did little to help.
“It’s alright Greg, take all the time you need.” Said Dr. Thomas, “Now that we’ve had this breakthrough, we can continue treatment, we can delve into the things that triggered your breakdown and get some answers.” With that Dr. Thomas got to his feet and left the room, he opened the door but before he left, he looked back at Greg and said, “You’ve got a lot of work to do.” Greg thanked him in a weak voice then sat crying on his bed for a while. Matt was gone and it was his fault, he slowly started to gather himself and got to his feet. Making his way out of his room he trudged down the hallway, not heading anywhere in particular but not wanting to stay in his room any longer.
The weeks passed, he saw Christopher standing in his usual spot, he heard Heidi shrieking from her room, he would pass the TV room and see Amelia sitting by herself on the couch, eyes transfixed on the news report on the screen. He thought of his buddy Matt, no more beers and football on Sundays, no more messages about bullshit back and forth, no more hitting on girls. It still stung him all this time later and would for the rest of his life. He’d have his sit-downs with Dr. Thomas and chat with the therapists, but he felt he was just going through the motions, the days were blending together, and he knew he was a long way from getting out.
One day he entered one of the small rooms at the end of the hall, Henry was in there sitting on a bench and muttering to himself as usual. Greg sat down a few feet from Henry and tried to think of a way to alleviate his guilt. He didn’t know how to cope; how could he cope? It’s not every day you wake up and get told you’re responsible for the death of your friend. He put his head in his hands again and closed his eyes, trying to imagine he was anywhere but the hospital. As he concentrated, he could hear someone typing on a keyboard, and a copy machine running, he figured it was from one of the therapist’s offices, but he could smell the scent of coffee as well. He looked up and saw that the color of the room had changed and the large folding table in the middle had been replaced with a conference table with a wood finish, the old folding chairs had been replaced by sleek rolling ones. Henry stopped his rambling, looked over at Greg and asked if he’d seen the Nuggets game last night. Greg looked at him and smiled.