Earnest Thoughts

“You know they’re all the same,” an overly nasal voice drifts way too close to my ear. I spin on my heel, stumbling back into the display of bread rolls. The person raises an eyebrow, shame wells within me.

They wore a uniform for the arcade just across the street, envy spikes through me., they had a job. They could go to work and earn money while surviving in a crowded environment. I couldn’t even take one snide comment before knocking over a display. The person walks off, clearly deciding that I’m a lost cause, leaving me with twenty or so squished bread rolls.

Getting home was difficult. Cars soared past without a care for zebra crossings or pedestrians. I walk past a gaggle of teenagers sitting on a wall. “Weirdo,” one points at me, the rest laugh. I feel heavy. I seem to just have that effect on people younger than me. It’s happened too many times where children would stop me in the streets and call me ugly or babies stare like they’re surprised people can even grow up to look like this.

I arrive home. It was a fumble to get through the door. Despite unlocking it every single day for over a year, I still couldn’t seem to get the key into the lock. It shouldn’t be as difficult as it was. The lock finally clicks, the door swinging open, I grab the mail, shutting the door behind me and heading straight to my desk.

It’s a little cluttered, there’s coffee left out from this morning and in my laziness. I drink it instead of getting a new cup. I should have the energy, but I just can’t seem to muster it. I can’t seem to push myself to do such a simple task.

The coffee is disgusting. I’m disgusting for drinking it. Instant coffee is so bad for me, and it only makes me think more. Why am I so lazy? Why didn’t I just go get another coffee. My hands tremble as self-judgment begins to fill my mind.

I grab the closest thing, looking for an escape from these thoughts. It’s a leaflet. yellow text on a red background, an ugly boarder lines the edges. Clearly it was designed to be striking more than beautiful. It’s as weird as the heading “People Free People ” with the catchline “the best kind of people”. Trembling I open it, resting it awkwardly across books and files.

Are you tired of social interaction? Are you tired of being corrected? Being stopped in the gym to be told you’re doing it wrong? Annoyed that people judge your food choices or tell you that you’re breathing too loudly? Do they point out you’re a worthless waste of space when you’re just trying to survive?

Well, how about you try people free people? Just a one-time purchase to make all of your people problems melt away!

I stare at the text; the rest was contact details and different kinds of accessories you can wear your people free people on. There would never be any need for social interaction ever again. I scan the leaflet three times over. The paper and ink seemed cheap; the ink bled into places it wasn’t supposed to but the prices seemed good. Almost too good to be true. What did “people free people” even mean? I examine it again. They have a really cool pendant with the device attached to the end. Even if it didn’t work, what would I lose from just trying? Other than five pounds. That would buy me a coffee I would not drink until it’s grown disgustingly cold.

It takes me four days of sleepless nights, letting the fresh food I’d optimistically brought go rotten and forcing myself to log on and actually do my job before I leave for the shop. It’s embarrassing really. How such simple tasks took so long, how they exhausted me.

I arrive just before closing. The shop appeared to just be a desk with a “request and you will receive” sign on it. A grinning tall skinny person with raven hair waves me forward. My heart immediately starts beating rapidly as those long slender fingers beckon me. They seem too large for the hand they’re attached to and by some mystic power I’m suddenly at the desk.

“What are you looking for?” He smiles. It feels so kind and helpful, I suddenly feel stupid. The leaflet must have been a prank. This is a real person. A real rational person. He couldn’t be selling something as silly as “people free people”.

I should have made an excuse, said I went to the wrong building. I’d just made up my mind too when I blurt out, “people free people.”

He laughs, there’s no malice but I feel so small, I was so stupid, how could I be so stupid, why was I.. “the best kind of people.” He finally affirms. Broken out my thoughts I smile a little, “yes. I think I have some. What form do you want it?”

“I saw a nice pendant.”

“Then I’ll get you just that,” he reaches under the desk pulling a black box fit with a yellow bow. I didn’t much like the yellow; it was sickly and pale. I felt gross just looking at it but as he nudged it towards me I knew I had to pick it up.

“How much do I owe you?” I pick at the corner of the box, flimsy cardboard crumbling beneath my fingers.

“Oh, first time purchase is always free. Didn’t you see it on the leaflet.”

I am stupid. I didn’t see it. My mouth feels so dry so I shake my head, turning away.

“Enjoy!” he calls as I leave. Out of the corner of my eye fingers appear to elongate, stretching across the room. It’s finally happening. I’m losing my mind.

The walk home is a blur, opening the box at my desk happened while I was in a dreamlike state. Even as it happened, I couldn’t seem to make clear what was going on. I must have reached inside and undone the clasp, redoing it once the pendant was secure round my neck. I must have, because it’s there now, the box lying empty in front of me. I throw it away. Taking care to make sure the yellow ribbon was gone too.

I test it out the next day. I’m running dangerously low on coffee. It’s an addiction. I know that. It isn’t my biggest problem. It’s a nice warm day. I hate it, hate being forced out my hoodie by the threat of heatstroke.

Despite that the day was nice, the noise of other people felt muted. Cars crawled by instead of zoomed, conversations melted into soft murmurs and best of all no one seemed to stare. Everyone had their eyes somewhere else, minding their own business, never taking interest in me.

I treat myself to a coffee and a cupcake from a local café, feeling confident for the first time in weeks. The barista moves slowly, sluggish. Eyes always obscured. The more I watch them make the coffee the more a feeling of confusion grows.

They turn and hand me the coffee, I catch a glimpse of her eyes. Nothing, black, just inky darkness, it had no end, going on forever. I drop the coffee, the hot liquid splattering at my feet. Up my trousers. I stare around, behind me. No one looked up. A surge of what must have been madness goes through me. I grab someone’s face. Angling his eyes towards me, pools of black. The pendant grows warm against my skin. I stumble back, slipping on the coffee. Ending up sprawled out on the ground, nobody reacts. They don’t even look at me.

I grab the counter, scrambling to my feet and run.

I don’t know why. I’m not running from anything and I’m not running anywhere. Every time I get even close to a person the pendant heats up. I realise then what’s happening.

Maybe I am stupid. I know I am. This is all my fault after all. I try to stop running, figure out how to reverse whatever the pendant’s done but I can’t. My legs move faster and faster. I try to slow down. I can’t. No matter what I try I simply can’t. The sudden fear seemingly pushing me to go faster, and faster. The world is blurring past me now. The pendant burning up. Burning into my skin.

Still, I can’t stop running. The chain snaps, I look at the pendant and can’t help but scream. Logically that chest was mine. Logically my chest because it’s connected to the rest of me but while I could feel a burning hot pendant resting on it my chest had an inky black hole bored into it. Black liquid oozing out. A tarry substance mingling amongst my flesh. Unlike everyone’s eyes, its surface was slightly reflective glistening in the sunlight. Am I dead?