The October Amaryllis

Chapter 85 - March 16th, 2018 4:13 P.M.

They played Sunny by Boney M at McDonald's, a song that my father had/has loved. Thinking about him honestly made me feel horrible; I wondered how he reacted to me running away from home. I wanted at that moment to erase all memories of my father so that I could never think of him again, as cruel as that sounds. I hated how he alternated between his two personalities like Jekyll and Hyde; he was two different people.

"You think they have missing posters up for us yet?" Malcolm asked. At that moment, we were both waiting for our orders to arrive; we both ordered a Big Mac with the twenty-piece chicken nuggets. Boy, despite not being hungry, I wanted at that moment to eat until the end of time just to not focus on our situation.

"I doubt it; it hasn't been long enough yet," I said, looking at the walls of the McDonalds. I saw Joseph Stalin in them and all the gulags he had created. The more I watched his camps, the more I wanted at that moment to die. I wanted to free myself from that vicious cycle once and for all. It all made me think of that album Break the Cycle by Staind.

Malcolm replied something in return, but I was dissociated all over again, so I have no idea what he said to this day. I can tell you quite a lot about what happened next, though.

They had this big TV in the corner of the McDonald's where we sat, and the news was on. Usually, I wouldn't care too much, but CNN talked about a "mysterious new disease" named Time Sickness. As soon as I heard that, my attention was practically glued to the screen. I still remember exactly what they said to this day.

"Josh Darren reporting here live, our subject today is on a mysterious new disease named Time Sickness. First reported three days ago, tens of thousands of Americans have claimed to have seen and experienced different timelines, and the number of sufferers might be significantly higher. Symptoms include a complete detachment from reality and an inability to return to the present moment. There are countless claims of witnessing distressing events, including those of World War II and the Rwandan Genocide. The cause as of this moment is unknown but is thought to at least be partially related to psychosis or drug use. As of today, the CDC has no comment and denies the existence of such a disease despite the claims of over thirty thousand people. This is Josh Darren out."

"What the hell did I just watch?" Malcolm asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I have no idea," I said, trying my best not to shake; I was so ashamed at that moment that I couldn't even look him in the eyes.

"You think these people did drugs?" Malcolm asked curiously.

"How should I know?" I replied rudely as our number was called.

At that moment, I experienced a strange feeling in my tummy. It felt as if someone was cutting it open, and I felt the powerful urge to puke my guts out until nothing remained. I'm not sure what exactly caused it, but I knew that I couldn't resist it.

I ran into the bathroom at top speed and leaned over the toilet. You won't believe what I saw while I was hunched over it. I kept seeing swarms of transparent insects crawling all around, and some were even swimming in the water. When I reached out to see if I could touch them, I could actually squish a few, which confused me. The insects I saw the most were huge woodlice and spiders that seemed to give me a lot of attention. What I mean by that is that whenever I moved, they would crawl over to me and attempt to climb up my sleeves. I kept trying to shake them off, but they just kept on coming. This is likely what Ashley experienced during her psychotic break. Insects are the worst; I wish they didn't exist sometimes. I'd keep butterflies and dragonflies, though.

Eventually, the urge to vomit overcame me, and when I did, I swear to you, I for a brief second saw blood in it before it disappeared. At that moment, I wanted nothing more, but for the universe to strike me down, I had done more harm than good to the world.

After that, I leaned against the wall for a bit, trying to calm myself down while hordes of whip spiders kept trying to climb me. I swear they're the ugliest creatures in existence.

Once I started feeling better, I went over to where Malcolm was sitting, and I swear he asked me something like, "How were the spiders?" while chuckling. All I could reply was, "What did you just ask?" His expression turned into one of confusion. I quickly realized that he never asked me anything along those lines.

"I asked nothing, man," he replied, raising his eyebrows. I could tell by his tone that he thought I was being just a little cuckoo.

"Sorry, I hear things that aren't there sometimes," I awkwardly replied.

"You mean like you hallucinate?" he asked concernedly.

"Never mind, it's hard to explain," I replied, nervously laughing.

"Okay then..." he replied awkwardly as he took a bite out of his Big Mac.

I took a bite out of mine, and even though I wasn't hungry in the least, I forced myself to eat all of it to forget about the insects and potentially throwing up blood. Man, at that moment, I could hardly tell what was real and what was a hallucination; I was virtually delirious.

While eating, I hallucinated Tobias sitting next to Malcolm and talking to him. He appeared out of thin air, much like my dad did back at St. Clara's, and started talking about Arcadia and his plans for its future. The whole time I sat there awkwardly and didn't even know what to say because I hardly knew what was real and what was a delusion. As if that wasn't bad enough, I heard a voice whisper in my ear, "Clive needs his mommy," as I was eating. I dug my nails deep into my skin to distract myself in any way I could, and Malcolm gave me a look of "What's wrong with this dude?"

"Hey, you okay? You've been acting kinda strange lately," he asked concernedly.

"I just haven't been able to sleep in a couple of days. I have terrible insomnia, and to be completely honest with you, I'm kinda seeing and hearing things right now."

"Aww man, we gotta go back and let you sleep!" he said with a frown.

"I'm fine," I lied.

"No, no, we're going right after this meal; listen to me for once in your life," he practically warned me.

"Fine, I'll go with you," I replied before noticing the look of confusion on Malcolm's face.

"You're not speaking English," he replied, confused.

"Yes, I am," I replied, raising an eyebrow.

"No, you're speaking Russian or something," he replied with wide eyes.

But how? I don't even know the language at all.

Then, it happened; I blacked out and found myself in a dystopian future.

New leader, same problems...