I tap my right thigh slowly, three times.

One.                  Two.   Three.

Relief. Now I can get out of bed. I lift up the covers and swoop my legs off the side of the bed. my feet dangle a few inches off of the ground. I click my heels four times, twice.

One.   Two. Three.   Four. One. Two.   Three. Four.

I stand up and walk over to the mirror. It is a necessity that I say the date at least twice.

“ October 25th, 2012. October 25th, 2012.”

I should probably leave for school soon, or I’ll be late for class. I shutter. What a horrible thought that was. Once I dress and brush my teeth, I put on my shoes, untying and tying them each twice.

Untie;tie.

Untie;tie.

Next shoe.

Untie;tie.

Untie;tie.

I walk to school, focused on avoiding any sidewalk cracks at all costs. This includes the ones not only made purposefully, built by the construction workers, but also the cracks made from the erosion of the sidewalks. Although mother’s back had been messed up for years, I couldn’t take any chances with these silly sidewalk cracks. I count my steps as I walk. Some steps are larger than others, so as not to step on any cracks and disturb the peace.

I get to the school and knock on Mrs. Early’s door ten times before entering. 

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

I walk in and smile.

“Good morning Mrs.Early! good morning Mrs. Early! Good morning Mrs.Early!” I say brightly.

“Yes, Emily. Good morning dear.“ Mrs. Early says. She responds almost as if she is annoyed. This, of course, is typical.

“YEAH UMMM… MRS. MRS. MRS. EARLY? I HAVE A QUESTION!” Yells a voice, obnoxiously, from the back of the room. The room fills with quiet chuckles. I’m enthused to know that this day will be like any other; horrible. Does everyone think that I choose to do the things that I do? David, the closest analyzer of my actions and expert in mocking them, seems to think that I do. 

I take out my blue pen, and I click it four times.

One, two, three, four.

I placed it back in my bag and get out my pencil. We’re just taking notes today, not too much. Once I finish writing, I look around the room to see all of the little things going on around me. I see Jeremy copying his homework in the back of the room, I see Erica listening attentively and writing everything the teacher says down extensively, per usual, and I see Stacy, head down, asleep. I close my eyes. Sometimes when I am bored or feeling overwhelmed, I like to close my eyes and just listen to everything around me. Often it is a bunch of noise and chatter and a distinctive laugh once in a while, but sometimes I randomly hear the strangest things.

“You know Cheryl is pregnant, right? That’s why she hasn’t been in first hour for two weeks. Morning sickness.” Shelby whispers to Jake. Or I’ll hear something like,

“Yeah. Katy totally got busted for sneaking out the other night. Apparently her mother noticed the rum was half gone when she woke up the next morning.” Zach says to Frank as he hits him on the shoulder. They’re silly things, but stopping and just listening always helps me. It’s not often that I can focus like that. It’s sort of like time slows down and I just listen and take in everything in those few moments. I often wonder if other people do this as well.

Thirty four, thirty five, thirty six,thirty seven steps to get to the bathroom. It was thirty six yesterday. I wonder what I did differently today. Maybe it was because I stumbled a little while passing the AP calculus class. I use the restroom and wash my hands

Once,               twice, three times.

I look in the mirror and whisper the date once more.

“ October 25th, 2012. October 25th, 2012.“

It is so quiet in the hallway today. The only thing I can hear is one teacher, the speech teacher, reciting a poem,

“Some say the world will end in fire, some say ice…” A lovely poem. So simple and funny. Sometimes I think that the world will end in fire, but it is not often that people care what, or how, I think.

I am walking back to class and I see a piece of candy wrapper on the ground. I feel the sudden urge to pick it up and throw it away.It is almost like a physical tug toward the insignificant piece of plastic. I pick it up and throw it away, quickly wiping my hand off on my jeans.  It’s like I can see the germs leaving my hand. Relief. This, to me, is one of my most absurd qualities. Every time I pick something up and throw it away, the only thing I can think about is the need to wash my hands again. My life can be like an oxymoron some of the time.

Staring down at the sidewalk, I am on my way back home. It is almost dark out now. Work was hard today. The cash register is so dirty. I have to wash my hands at least twice an hour. Suddenly, as I am thinking about work, I hear a car pull up behind me. Before I can turn around to see who it is, I feel a sharp pain on the right side of my head. Everything is a little blurry after that.

I wake up with my ears ringing in my head, right near my temples, pulsing profusely. I reached to tap my right thigh, slowly, three times. I cannot. My hands are tied behind my back. I can feel my school lunch from earlier slowly start to turn in my stomach. I’m so uneasy that all of the blood drains from my face. My fingers feel cold and my eye sight becomes a little blurry as if I had just jumped into a pool. What is going on? Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe I would wake up soon in my bed.

“ Is this a prank? Because if it is, so not funny.”

No response.

I am not exactly sure where I am at the moment. This is mostly because I cannot see anything. My eyes are covered by some sort of silk cloth. I hear no car driving, but I do hear rain. I almost here sprinkling coming from right above me. I start to hear sprinkling on windows of a car. It seems to be raining outside. I’ve become more and more anxious. I start to feel my body tingling. It is like my whole body has fallen asleep and my mind becomes twisted. 

“Don’t overthink” I whisper to myself. I start to wonder if it is safer to call for help or safer to remain silent. I click my heels together three times, twice.

 One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.

 Relief. At least my legs are free. I sit up cautiously. 

After a few minutes of calming myself down, I start to sit up and I realize that I am, in fact, in a car. I feel the car seat. It is cold and made out of leather. I feel the crevices and sewn in lines in between each seat. I feel the cupholder to the side of my feet, but, for some reason, the car is not even on. I crinkle my nose as if I was about to sneeze. I do this sometimes when I get stressed out or nervous. It is like an itch, or a sneeze. It is like something I cannot avoid. I crinkle my nose almost subconsciously. It has always been a weird thing to me.

I just wish I could see. I do not know if it will work, but I decided to try and push my head against the window in hopes that I can get the blindfold off. It is no use. It is so tight that it makes my eyes itch. They begin to water. I thought this was something that only happened in the movies. The girl is caught off guard and wakes up with her hands behind her back and her eyes covered. There is no one around and she is left clueless. After this, of course, she is murdered; an ending I do not wish to replicate.  As I sit and think, I hear cars passing by. I can’t be too far from other people, not with all of this noise. For some strange reason, the sound of the cars almost seems fake. It is almost as if the sound is coming from a speaker. This confuses me a little. Maybe I am out on the street just next to a restaurant. Maybe I am near a hotel resort with a waterpark included. Maybe I am in the middle of nowhere, and there is no help around for miles. There is no way to tell. I hear a shuffle right by the door. Two people are arguing just outside of wherever I am. What could they be talking about? Me? What had I done to deserve this?

I feel around for something sharp. I want to cut off whatever is holding my hands together. I move my foot around slowly until I hear a noise. It is almost like some sort of plastic. It sounds like sunglasses. I move the sunglasses around with my right foot and try to stomp on them. They crack, and I do it once more. Everything is better in twos. With the sunglasses in shards, I bend down to pick one up. My hands are still tied together, so it is a bit hard at first. I touch the end of a shard with my pointer finger and feel a prick. It is almost like a light bee sting. This will do. The thing that is holding my hands together should be able to be cut by this.

Once I get loose from the rope that had rubbed my wrists raw, I want to untie my blindfold. As I reach towards the knot in the back of my head, I realize that now I have to act fast. The horrible person or people who had done this to me could be back at anytime. They could come to tell me that these are my final moments and ask me if I have any last words. I shake my head in hopes to shake away the nasty thoughts slowly  

creeping into my mind. I untie the very tight knot behind my head and take off the fabric. I feel a wave of relief wash over me as my head begins to feel more relaxed. I open my eyes, and, to my surprise, the only thing I see is pitch black darkness. There seems to be an absence of light altogether. Now I am actually terrified. I look around and it feels like I still have my eyes closed. I can feel my pupils trying to get larger to take in any light possible, but there isn’t any. I could be anywhere. I crinkle my nose and shake my head. My throat starts to feel itchy. This is so confusing. I had just heard people, but there’s no way they would have just been out there in the darkness. It is so dark it almost makes me dizzy. I close my eyes to call my brain. I feel my mind twisting and turning as I become more anxious again. The frog in my throat revisits me, as it tends to do once or twice a week, and I feel like I can’t swallow anymore.

“Just don’t overthink. Everything will be alright” I tell myself once more.

As I close my eyes, I remember something I had almost forgotten. I tap my right thigh, slowly, three times.

One.                                 Two. Three.

Relief. I feel a little calmer now. After about a minute I decide that it’s time I see what is outside of this car. I feel for the handle, unlock the door, and open it. A loud buzz begins to sound. Loud noises make me very dizzy. My head starts to spin and my thoughts become jumbled. I cover my ears with my palms in hopes to spare my eardrums, and let out a scream. I get out of the car and the lights turn on. I look around and I am just in a room. It is a white room. There is almost nothing around other than a black Jeep behind me that I had just been trapped in. The walls are blank, other than a little painting that almost seems familiar. I vaguely begin to remember the living room at my old house on Commonwealth Street. My mother and father would sit and eat and I would lay on the couch, staring at a picture. This picture always made me feel safe, as it reminded me of my parents and my home. Now this picture makes me feel less safe than ever.  

Clapping. I hear clapping in the distance. I turn around and see a window. In it is only my reflection. I storm over to it.

“ Someone tell me- someone tell me- someone tell me what the hell is going on.” I say in the most assertive tone I can. At this point I am feeling actually furious. I start to twist my hair in the usual spot, just below my left earlobe. 

“Wonderful job. No overreactions. Perfect. Go on now, Emily. You may proceed.” A random voice says coming from a speaker. The voice seems almost as if it is coming from every corner of the room. Go on? What does that even mean? They had me tied up in a car. I don't even know who these people are, but I do see it is a simulation now. I don’t seem to be in any real and immediate danger.

“Go on? Do you want me to go on? Who are you? Why am I here?”

No response.

A door appears on the side of the room. I turned around and blink a few times. I decide to walk through because at this point, why not. I walk beneath the door and spin around three times.

One, two, three.

Beyond the door is what looks like a maze. It seems to be snowing, yet it is not cold out at all. I turned around to see if anyone had gone into the room and the door is gone completely. Behind me now is only a wall. I set forth. My mother always told me that, for some reason, if I ever found myself in a maze, the best way to go would be left, left, right, right, left, right, until I had walked one hundred and eighty seven steps.

One hundred eighty five, one hundred eighty six, one hundred eighty seven.

The information she gave me had always been so specific to me. I stop and close my eyes to think.

I see my mother. She’s getting up to grab a hairbrush; this was back when she could walk. She comes over to me. She begins to brush through my light brown hair and says,

“My dearest Emily, I love you so much. If ever you should find yourself lost, surrounded by green, I want you to remember this. Maybe you are in a maze or something. I know you love numbers dear. All you must know is left, left, right, right, left, right. All you do is repeat this pattern, Love. Keep going until you’ve walked one hundred and eighty seven steps. After this, you may find yourself between two diverging paths. If you wait there for awhile, one of the paths may just close on its own.” She continues to brush out all of my knots. “And just remember that you will be alright, darling. Don’t forget. Don’t forget.”

I wait. The path to my left has many different flowers. They are beautiful shades of pink and yellow. I have never smelled a fresher flower aroma in my life. This path seems so friendly. This seems like a path where I would meet deer and birds would land on my fingers as I sing to them. This seems like the easy way to go, but I remember what my mother told me. I look yo my right. This path is dark. It does not smell much or sunshine and flowers, it smells more of rainstorm and has a gloomier presence. This path invokes fear. I can only sit and hope that the path on my right start closing soon.

I hear movement of leaves as the path to my left begins to close. The roots and vines curl up and intertwine together until all of the little flowers can no longer be seen from my side. My heart sinks a little. 

“So… I’ll just go right then.” I say to myself. I feel so alone. There seems to be no one for miles. Only the thought of my mother seems to calm me. I start off to the right.

The warm snow is gone now. The path seems almost slippery. The air feels rainforest-like as I walk through the grass. I think back to when my mother helped me dress for school one morning.

“Emily, I want you to remember that you will never be alone. Even if you are walking through a rainforest, I will be right by your side. You’re almost there, Love. You just have to keep walking. Close your eyes and listen to the sounds. The sounds will guide you. The sounds will take you out of the darkness.”

It feels like I have been walking for ages. I finally find myself at two more paths. I close my eyes and stay very quiet. I hear humming coming from a little girl. My ears might be playing tricks on me, but I decide that it is worth a try. I follow the song. It is a lovely song. It leads me to the left path this time. I open my eyes and find myself at a door. Everything goes black again.

I wake up and find myself back in bed. Confused, I reach to tap my thigh three times, slowly.

One.                                      Two. Three.

I get up to hang my legs off of the bed. A paper falls to the ground. I lean over to pick it up, finding one word on the front. “Congratulations,” it reads. The letter goes on to say that I have a special mind. I skip my heel clicks and run down to the kitchen as fast as I can. I walk in to find my mother, sitting there almost as if she had been waiting for me.