Chapter VIIII

✦Beyond Reality✦

Saturday, April 6th 2019 sometime after 0600 pm MDT, Bountiful, UT, USA 

Throughout dinner, I find myself speaking very little, my mind preoccupied with the events of the previous night and the nagging feeling of disconnection that are consistently hanging over me. As my family engages in conversations about a late easter and the full moon, their voices sound muffled and distant, and even the flavors of the food seem bland and unremarkable. It feels like I’m missing or forgetting something important, but I can’t quite put my finger on it, nor can I understand why it is affecting me in such a way. Even in the presence of loved ones, I feel strangely distant. What is wrong with me?

Quickly finishing my meal, I excuse myself from the table, placing my dishes in the dishwasher and slipping on my shoes. Abruptly bidding my family members farewell, I kiss my mother on her forehead and leave their house. As I exit the living room, I can sense their confusion through their silent eyes, watching me and perhaps quietly questioning my behavior. Normally, I’m more talkative and engaged, but tonight, I’m lost in a daze, and I know that they can see it. I can tell that my father watches me with concerned eyes more than the others do. I know that he knows something is up.

As I make my way to my car, the clear evening air provides little solace, if any. I open my door, sit down, start the engine, and before I know it, I’m absentmindedly driving back to my apartment. It isn’t until I snap out of my trance that I realize that I’m standing in front of my bathroom mirror, shaving cream adorning my head and a razor clutched in my hand.

I can’t stop the feeling that something is off. No matter what I do to try and focus, I can’t shake the sensation that my reflection is starting to stare back at me. Its gaze piercing through me and leaving an unsettling atmosphere surrounding me. Before me, the eyes in the mirror transform; the reflection’s pupils and irises become pure white with a faint aura, while the rest of its eyes, the sclera, is what I think they’re called, they turn pitch black. At the same time, a loud ringing sound begins blaring in my ears as anxiety grips me as I stare into those otherworldly eyes.

Coming back to reality, shaking my head, and rubbing my eyes, I blink, hoping to dispel the illusion. At first, I’m afraid to look, but when I finally muster up the courage, my eyes return to normal, as if nothing has happened. Doubt creeps into my mind as I begin questioning my sanity or whether I might just be a little under the weather. Am I losing my grip on what is real, all because of this new dream? And why do I feel fatigued, even after a full eight hours of sleep?

After I finish shaving my head, washing my face, and completing my morning routine before preparing to leave for work. Before exiting my apartment, I pack a lunch, remembering how hungry I had been on my previous shift and realizing I had left my phone in my car, knowing I had it there when I left my parent’s house. Descending the stairs from my apartment, I enter my car and find my phone sitting in the cupholder. Picking it up, I scroll through my notifications, discovering several missed calls and texts from Mark, my brother Rey, and my folks.

Perhaps they are simply just a little freaked since I haven’t been acting my usual self today. Hell, even when I’d come home from my accident, I didn’t act this way. I stare at my phone for a few moments before responding with a simple message to my dad: “I’m fine. Really.” Placing the phone back into the cupholder, I start the car and drive toward work.

I don’t hold it against them. It makes sense that they would be worried about me. After all, they are family, and my behavior has been far from that of my usual self. I can’t deny the fact that something is off, and it is evident to those around me more than I’d like it to be.

Not fully understanding what is going on with me makes me uneasy, especially since I’ve never felt like this at any time in my life. Longing and yearning are not feelings I’m particularly familiar with, yet I know that these are part of the things I am feeling. The closest thing I can remember is when I left home for missionary service in Texas or went to Fort Benning for Ranger School. It was a longing I felt for home, but it was still tame compared to this. This, this yearning shakes me to my core and has brought unexplained tears to my eyes, a yearning for something forgotten— something important. For the life of me, I can’t remember what it is.

I notice that I have, once again, absentmindedly arrived at my destination as I probe my thoughts to better understand what is going on in my head. Strangely, I arrive at work early, not right on time or fashionable five to ten minutes late, like I usually do. Carson, my hard-headed supervisor, notices this and gawks at me with a somewhat confused look, possibly not expecting to see me for another thirty minutes and definitely not expecting me to be the first one here.

“Everything alright?” He asks me.

Shaking my head a bit, I look at him and stutter a half-hearted reply, “Y-yeah? Why?”

“No reason. Just a little surprised to see you here before the others, is all.” He says, awkwardly chuckling a bit, failing to hide the surprise written across his face.

I fake a smile, moving past him to check in at the front desk and pick up my patrol route for the night before gathering my gear and heading for the exit. As I reach the exit, I notice the same illusion with my eyes again on my reflection on the metal door as the loud ringing in my ear returns. It looks uncanny; the eyes in the reflection pierce through me again with their intense gaze.

I freeze and stare until I feel Carson shaking my shoulder, “Hey! Everything alright?” I hear Carson’s voice from behind me through the ringing in my ears. 

In response, I shake my head back to reality, “Y-yeah, yeah.” I stutter. “J-just a little tired, is all.”

“If you say so. Just keep your head clear out there.” He stares at me with genuine concern.

Slightly nodding my head, I respond, “I will,” before leaving the office to start my patrol around the downtown area. As I walk down the corridor, I can feel their concerned eyes following me and think that they might be keeping a close eye on me tonight.

During my shift, I feel on edge; a sensation of paranoia continues to grip me. Every chance I get, I sit on whatever I can use as a seat and attempt to clear my head of the haze that has occupied it since I woke up. And every time I’m about to clear my thoughts, something weird happens. 

First, I swear that I began hearing a wispy, staticky voice emanating from it. The first few times it happened, I was unable to make out what it was trying to say to me. But now, I think I can hear it saying, “Remember.”

Before continuing with my patrols, I take a deep breath and calm myself once more. But as the night wears on, the unsettling things that have been haunting me continue to intensify, growing exponentially worse with each passing hour. I do my best to avoid any reflective surfaces, but it seems like they’re everywhere, and in every one of them, I catch a glimpse of my reflection, staring back at me with those peculiar eyes boring into my soul. My heart pounds in my chest, and I instinctively look down, quickening my pace, doing everything I can to ignore them and escape their unnerving presence.

My hands start to tremble uncontrollably, causing me to pause once more and take another break. I look at them as they shake, beginning to notice a peculiar black circle imprinted on my inner left wrist. The sensation of warmth takes hold of my wrist, and as I try to examine it closer, I blink. In an instant, like every illusion before it, the circle vanishes as if it were never there.

Pressing on in my patrol, I pray that I’m just able to make it through the rest of the night, as the sense of unease inside me refuses to dissipate. Taking another deep breath, I attempt to steady myself and continue until I reach what we refer to as ‘the wall’: a polished metal surface that requires nightly inspection for any signs of damage or vandalism. Initially, I focus my attention on the edges, confirming there is no visible harm, doing my best to avoid the eerie reflection that I know lurks within.

However, my curiosity outweighs my fear, and I take a peek. My eyes fixate on the center panels, an area where damage has been discovered far too often.

I’m surprised to see that it is just a normal reflection. I’m a little relieved to not see an eerie visage of myself staring back at me. That is until I suddenly see my reflection instantly change on the surface of the metal panels, crystal clear and vivid. It is no longer an image of me that greets me. 

Instead, I behold the sight of a great knight, donned in gleaming silver armor-as I stare at him, I realize it is the very same knight from my dreams. His piercing gaze penetrates from his helmet and straight through me, yet I sense no malice or animosity emanating from him. On the contrary, there is a peaceful aura of benevolent understanding, like we know each other better than anyone else ever could.

I examine the visage, knowing it from my dreams every night since I was young. As I stare, the reflection then shifts, morphing into an image of my present self, before shifting again, becoming the reflection that has haunted me this day. The cursed black eyes return as the circle on my wrist reappears, but now on both wrists and glowing white in the middle of the circle. A half-cocked smile forms on my reflection’s face as they mouth a single word, though I can’t clearly discern what they are attempting to say.

Mesmerized or horrified, I haven’t decided really, I watch as my reflection continues to smile, repeating the word once more. This time, the loud ringing returns as I hear the wispy, staticky voice emanating from my radio, all accompanying the eerie scene. “Remember,” the voice whispers, sending shivers down my spine. Frozen in place, I’m jolted back to reality when I hear another voice crackling through the radio.

“Are you good, Hawkins?” I can hear Carson’s voice inquire, temporarily breaking the illusion.

Turning around, I glance up at the camera situated near the top of the building, offering a reassuring thumbs-up while speaking through my mic. “I’m good. Just inspecting the wall,” I respond, concealing the inner turmoil that has gripped me.

His voice carries a hint of concern as he replies, “Alright, it’s just that you’ve been there for quite a while, though. Any damage to report, or is everything code four?”

“It’s all good,” I reply, masking my unease with fabricated confidence. “Just thought one of the panels seemed loose. Needed a closer look.”

Deep down, I know there’s more to all this unsettling experience than I can comprehend, but for now, I push it aside, determined to fulfill my duties and maintain a facade of normalcy.

Turning away from the wall, I look down at my wrists where the circles had appeared and am grateful to find nothing there. I continue on, just wanting this night to be over already. Maybe getting some sleep might help me calm down. At least I know what to expect from my dreams; they are the same every night.

Right? It feels like that is no longer true.

For the remainder of my night, I do my best to ignore the hauntings. I’m able to finish the rest of my patrols with little peace as I do my best to ignore them. Even though they have stopped, I can’t help but think about what I thought I heard or saw. What was it that I’m supposed to remember? I just feel that I’m going mad. I just have to be seeing and hearing things, right?

As my shift finally comes to an end, a sense of relief washes over me. It’s Sunday morning, signaling the close of my work week and the prospect of much-needed rest before attending my church meetings. With each step I take towards the security office, my footsteps begin faltering, burdened by the weight of the strange events that unfolded during the night. Putting on a facade, I offer the clerk a forced smile, surrendering my equipment to her care.

“Make sure to get some rest,” she says with a hint of concern as I exit the office, complete the checkout process, and leave the premises. Carson, standing silently behind her, watches me, and I’m touched by his genuine display of worry, even though he can be a dick at times.

Again, lost in my thoughts, I absentmindedly navigate the familiar path back home. The staticky whisper of that mysterious word continues to echo relentlessly in my mind, leaving me unsettled. Upon entering my apartment, I’m instantly greeted by Frigo chirping and meowing with excitement at the front door. 

A genuine smile forms on my face as I kneel down to his level. “Good morning, buddy,” I softly greet him, tenderly stroking his head. Setting aside the burdens of work, I drop everything on the floor, secure the door, and open a can of cat food to satisfy Frigo’s hunger.

With a slow, weary gait, I make my way to my room, not bothering to remove my work clothes or change into my pajamas. Collapsing onto my bed, I sink face-first into the soft mattress, surrendering to exhaustion as sleep claims me once again.

I begin feeling strange as I fall asleep, but the sensation is all too familiar. A low trembling begins gently shaking my body, and a deep rumbling sound begins as my body begins sinking… I’ve been here before, or at least felt this exact thing. But where? Or when?

It feels like I’m falling, is there another earthquake… I thought this before. What is going on?

Opening my eyes, I see a dark, endless void surrounding me.