Jack in the Box (4 page)

            
 
The chase lasted for a long time, longer than I had ever been awake in the place. To obey Brian's rule, I made sure to close the doors behind me as I chased him, but I worried about wasting too much time doing it. Eventually, though, I left a door open behind me. It wasn't a conscious decision; I just was focusing on the chase. I had to do it in order to keep up with Brian.

             
But it was a mistake.

             
After leaving that one door open, I felt an excruciating pain in my forehead. I rubbed my temples a bit, but I kept running.

            
 
No, don't stop.

            
 
I burst through the next door and left it open. Then I felt a blow to my left side. I lurched forward but kept running. After running through the next door, I felt another blow to my right side.

            
 
Who keeps doing that? It can't be Brian; I'm still chasing him right now. But I can't see anyone else around me except for him. He's always been in front of me, how could he be doing this?

             
I went through a third door and kept running. Something hit me again, except this time, I felt it in the back of my head. I fell over immediately. As I lay on the floor, I saw Brian escape into the next room. "No!" I got back up. Adrenaline fueled my persistence. I began to run towards the door Brian had just gone through, but something stopped me. Nothing hit me this time. There were no blows to my sides or head, like there had been before. I just stopped. I couldn't move. I was mid-step. One foot remained in the air, one foot on the floor. I didn't have to struggle for balance at all; I just remained frozen there, unable to move anything except my head. "No. This isn't fair." I yelled in the direction Brian had gone. "Hey! You can't do this! How am I ever supposed to pass if you-"

             
All of a sudden I found myself thrown against the wall. My feet weren't even touching the ground anymore. My arms moved up across the wall, but I wasn't the one moving them. They stopped up above my head, making me look like someone surrendering. My fists were clenched tight.

             
After my hands were above my head, I heard a voice in my right ear. It was just a whisper, but it didn't sound scared. It actually sounded slightly angered. I couldn't see anyone, yet I somehow heard this voice speak to me. It had only one thing to say: "Never leave a door open." The door next to me suddenly slammed shut on its own.

             
Goosebumps covered my arms. Who was this? I got myself to ask with a shaky voice, "Brian?"

             
Suddenly I was thrown onto the floor. I lay with my stomach down, cheek on the concrete. I still couldn't move. "Brian?" I said it louder this time. Then everything started getting darker. "Brian?" I was losing consciousness, but I didn't feel like I had before when knocking out. I had been sleepy the other times, but this time it felt like I was being forced into unconsciousness. Even as the room became darker and darker, I kept calling out, louder each time. "Brian?" I could hardly see anything. "Brian!" the room went black, and somehow I was still able to speak even after completely losing my vision. But I didn't speak, I screamed. "Brian! Brian! Bri-"

             
At that moment I fell asleep.

             
But I didn't dream.

four

              Waking up by myself was nice. I liked not having Brian hovering over me with his emphatic smile, telling me that breakfast was ready. I looked over in bed to see that our meals were in fact there. This was the first time that Brian wasn’t there as I woke up.

            
 
Is he late?

             
I glanced at every door. Still no Brian.

            
 
Should I wait to eat, or just go ahead?

             
After waiting for ten minutes, hunger started mattering more to me than courtesy. I was getting tired of having only one meal-a-day.

             
Set at both places on the table were thick Belgian waffles. Butter sat on top of the waffles and syrup had been poured all over them. In the middle of the table was a pitcher of ice water with two empty glasses next to it. Next to those glasses were the gun and notebook. I sat down, poured myself a glass of water, and ate quietly. The food was good, but I just wished that I would get to have other meals during the day. That is, if I could even stay up long enough to get those meals.

             
After eating for a few minutes, I saw Brian walk in and sit down. He said nothing as he walked in, and he had a blank expression on his face. He didn’t look happy or sad. It made me feel uneasy. He had never acted like this before. I watched him as he sat looking at his plate for a few seconds. Eventually he picked up his silverware and started cutting up the waffle.

             
I took another bite and put my fork down. The sound of the fork hitting the table made Brian look up. “Oh, you’re up!” His happy face appeared immediately. “Good morning!”

             
I stared at him with my mouth open; half-chewed food dropped out and onto my plate.

            
 
What was that?

            
 
“I’d swallow before reopening your mouth next time.” He chuckled and poured himself a glass of water.

             
I wanted to ask him why he was just acting like that, but then I remembered what had happened yesterday. I had gotten tossed around by what seemed to be nothing. “Hey Brian…”

             
“Yeah, Jack?”

             
“Did you see anything happen to me yesterday?”

             
“What do you mean?”

             
I wondered if he seriously didn’t know what had happened. “I chased you through several rooms, but I lost you when this thing started beating on me and throwing me around.”

             
He leaned forward and cocked his eyebrow. “Really? What kind of thing was it?”

             
After he said that, I knew for sure he was hiding something. “S
o
you’r
e
the one asking questions now?"

             
He said nothing.

             
“I knew it was you, Brian.” I leaned in, making our faces really close together. “And if it wasn’t, I know you had something to do with it.”

             
He smirked. “Jack, just because you tripped, doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me.”

             
I stood up and slammed my hand on the table. “Don’t give me that! You know everything, but you’re not going to tell me anything?” I pointed my finger at him.

             
“Hey, calm down, Jacky-”

             
“I didn’t trip; something hit me and threw me against the wall! My feet weren’t even touching the ground.”

             
Brian stayed silent.

             
“Tell me what’s going on. What was that?”

             
He leaned back and took a sip of water.

             
I lifted my fist to slam on the table again. I was angry.

             
Looking into his cup, as if something were in there, Brian said, “Did you break a rule?”

             
I stopped myself from hitting the table.

             
He smiled and put the cup down. “Well?”

             
The last statement I heard before blacking out popped into my head.

            
 
Never leave a door open.

             
I sat down.

             
“That’s what I thought.” Brian returned to his eating.

             
After being so angry about what had happened to me, I completely forgot about breaking a rule.

             
“But that’s not fair! You didn’t-”

             
“It’s a perfect example of fair. You broke a rule and faced the consequences.”

             
“But you didn’t tell me what would happen if I broke one.”

             
“You’re okay, aren’t you?”

             
“Well, yeah…”

             
“So toughen up, Jacky.” Brian stood up and walked toward a door. “Don’t forget to bring the gun.”

             
Even though his back was turned, I knew deep down that he was grinning. I just had no idea why. I took the gun and notebook and put them in my pants. I ran to the door, hoping Brian wasn’t already gone But when I went through, he was.

             
“Well, this is great.” I stood in the doorway, wondering what to do. Then I remembered to close the door. I didn’t want to “face the consequences” of leaving one open again.

Then a thought entered my head
.
I’m not making any progress in this place. What’s the point?

            
 
I considered just waiting in my bedroom. It actually didn’t seem like a bad idea.

             
If I stay in my room, I’ll be able to get all my meals, and I can sit in my bed in case I pass out.

             
Satisfied with the plan, I turned and reopened the door. But when I opened it, I saw nothing in the room.

             
I turned back and slammed the door behind me.

             
I went through doors with no sense of direction. Like usual. Every time I entered a room, I felt like I was just opening the door of the very room I was in. Like the room had portals that only led to the room itself. Was I simply walking through the same room all day? The thought actually seemed plausible for a moment, but I realized it couldn’t be right. There was my bedroom, there were empty rooms, and there was that room that I threw what felt like hundreds of papers into. Every room couldn’t possibly be the same one. It wasn’t possible. Or at least I thought it wasn’t.

             
I continued to walk as I tried to think of solutions. Thinking about the rooms always gave me a headache, which made it even harder to focus. None of the events that I had seen occur since I first woke up made any sense. Blackouts, invisible person, stuff vanishing. The only thing that made sense was the result of my breaking a rule. But the way it happened was completely implausible. I didn’t see anything. All I heard was the voice. My body moved, and I saw nothing touching it.

            
 
Maybe it wasn’t a person.

             
Getting a huge headache made me stop thinking so hard for a while. Walking through the rooms was always frustrating when I tried to figure things out. But this time, when I just walked for walking’s sake, I felt good. I had no purpose, but to go into another room. Not thinking for once relaxed me.

As I entered yet another room, I began to have a weird feeling. An odd smell filled my nostrils. It smelled bad. I was in the middle of the room, trying to figure out where the smell was coming from. I looked back in a corner of the room. What I saw made me jump.

A dead body. Dried blood surrounded it on the floor, and more was splattered across the wall. In the man’s forehead was a dark hole, and in his lifeless hand a pistol. A folded paper rested in his other hand. Some blood had gotten on it. After regaining my composure, I walked toward the man, bent down, and took the paper out of his hand. The front said “To Brian.” I unfolded it and read the words inside, written in blue ink.

            
 
I’d tell you to go to hell, but that would be pointless. I tried starving, that didn't work. I tried bleeding to death, that didn't work either. So if I ever manage to die here, what will happen? Guess I’ll find out. It’s been fun, Brian; I hate you.

            
 
I looked at the body again. Let out my breath. I had been holding it in ever since I saw it. My palms were shaking as I folded the note and put in my pocket. I closed my eyes. Shook my head.

            
 
Is this really hell? Have I already lived a life that led me to this?

            
 
I looked back at the man. He was lean, and he wore the same clothes as Brian and I.

            
 
Is that what will happen to me?

            
 
The man’s expression, from what I could make out on his bloody face, actually seemed somewhat content. He was ready to be anywhere other than here.