The Starseed Experiment

Chapter Seven

Jezebel sat outside with a cigarette in hand and her phone in the other. She took a drag as she scrolled through social media stories. She'd gotten through her friends' and when it came to the celebrities' videos something strange occurred. Each and every one of them were talking about grilling. She'd never seen so many people talking about it before. It seemed to have caught on as a mainstream catch phrase, overnight. She went through videos of them saying things like, "I'm the grill master." "I'm so grilling." "I'm gonna grill so hard tonight." It wasn't even summer. She took drag after drag of her cigarette, thinking. And then it hit her, Malthazar had talked about grilling amongst his insanity. One of a few words he had mentioned. Was there something to it?

Shaking her head, she went inside. She had moved out of her mother's house and felt a little strange being alone. She had slowly begun to feel crazy, herself. She began to have dreams about the capstone in the sky, of God saying she had to go home. She could still feel people watching her. She would lay awake at night, her insomnia sometimes making it to where she wouldn't sleep for days. She began to talk to God more often, asking him random insignificant questions like, "did I turn the stove off?" whenever she left the house. And he'd answer. It made her feel less alone, more safe and protected. It comforted her.

Just as she entered her home she got a text. She went to the couch and opened it. Immediately she was shocked. It read, 'Hey, it's Caty.' She stared at it, not really sure she believed what she was looking at. How strange, she had forgotten about her old girlfriend, and, 'How did you get my number?' She waited anxiously for a reply. 'You have it on public on your social account.' She didn't. But she didn't want to press the issue. She responded, asking how she was doing, and from there they continued to talk all through the day. But when it came time for her supposedly ex-girlfriend to go to sleep, the girl texted, 'Goodnight, tiger.'

That was odd. Caty had never called her "tiger". Why start now?

Jezebel went to bed, but she didn't sleep, she began to scroll through stories again. It was still all about grilling but then she came to one celebrity's video. Jordan Peterson. He had uploaded a picture of a tiger. How coincidental. Especially since it said, 'Goodnight, tigers.' Her mind reeled. What the hell was going on with this day? She couldn't help feeling like it was all about her. She closed her eyes and asked God, "Are people watching me?" She hadn't yet thought to ask him until now. He came back with a "Yes".

"Who?" He wouldn't answer her. "Why?" Still no answer. It was frustrating. So there were people watching her, but why was she so special? She tossed and turned until she finally fell asleep.

The next day she had to go to work. She was a cashier at a quaint convenience store and knew pretty much everyone who went in there. On this day a woman she didn't know went in. She asked her how she was and the woman came back with, "Oh, I'm great! I had such an amazing experience. I got to pet a tiger at the zoo."

Jezebel almost dropped one of the items she was buying. What? That was unheard of, and again with the tigers. She stuttered an, "O-oh..." and finished ringing her up. Again, someone she didn't know came in, buying a pack of cigarettes, and again she asked how he was doing. He answered, "It's my daughter's birthday today. I call her my butterfly." Again she was astonished. Her father had always called Belinda his butterfly. What in the world was going on? Two customers in the same day saying something she related to? She must have been crazy for thinking anything of it.

The work day ended and almost immediately she got a text from Caty. 'Hey, how was work?' 'It was-' She paused, she didn't know what to say. Weird? 'Different.' She almost dropped her phone when the other young women said, 'I bet. ;)'

She tried to ignore how strange the day had been by actually cooking dinner. But Caty wouldn't leave her alone. She supposed it was nice having someone to talk to, being alone and all, but it was a bit much, since she wasn't into her anymore. And it was just too odd. But she continued to talk. The Ex posed a question, 'What's your favorite color?' 'Purple.' 'Oh! That's right, you're the middle one in the family.' Jezebel was getting fed up. Yes she was, she was between her two younger siblings and her parents, but why would that matter? What's that got to do with purple? Then her overactive mind realized it was the colors her father would always say in a certain order. Yellow, red, purple, blue, and green. Purple was in the middle. Come to think of it, they were all the same favorite colors of her family, in order of their age. It was all too weird and she threw her phone down onto her side table, falling asleep better than she had in a long while.

The week went by quickly, but every new customer said something that only she would know about herself. When Friday hit she was mentally exhausted. She asked God, "Are they trying to mess with my head?" The answer was yes.

Again, she went to looking through stories, ever immensely bored. She was bordering on obsessed. Then she once more came to Jordan Peterson's story. He posted a picture of his new album cover. A purple tiger. She was fed up and suddenly had the urge to text Caty. She'd had enough. 'Who are you?' She knew it wasn't Caty, knew from the beginning, yet she had went along with it out of boredome and loneliness. The text she got back was, 'What do you mean, tiger?' She clenched her teeth, 'I mean, you're not Caty. I know. So who the fuck are you?' 'You're being really weird.' 'Well, you're not being yourself. I know Caty would never call me tiger.' 'You're being insane.'

It was going nowhere. She knew this person wouldn't tell her, she was just angry and making confrontation. She should have just blocked the number. But her mind was screaming for the truth. 'You're Jordan Peterson, aren't you?' 'What?? That's really crazy.' 'I know it's you. Stop texting me.' And finally the intruder stopped talking. Not even ten minutes later Jordan Peterson posted a video of himself saying, "You know what, guys? You win, I'm out." There was a heartbreak emoji floating in the video. What was that? What was the context? It didn't make sense, except for the fact that she knew it was him texting her. But how? How did he knew her, and why was he talking to her? Like he liked her. Her heart fluttered. A celebrity liked her. She bit her lip, going to text "Caty". 'I'm sorry. I'm just in a bad mood. I know I was acting crazy.' But no response.

Just as she had done years ago, she asked God, "Is Jordan Peterson my soulmate?"

"No."

Suddenly she felt a warmth within her core. A fluttering feeling of love overcoming her. She didn't know where it was coming from. She had just been laying there. She became inexplicably aroused. She writhed and manipulated herself. And as she did so she felt a presence within her, the feeling more intense than she had ever felt it. Like it was amplified. She didn't know why, or how she might have been able to tell, but she had a strong feeling it was the man in her head. Maybe... maybe it wasn't God.

That thought concerned her. If it wasn't, then who, or what, was she hearing? It was then that she knew she must be totally insane. Yet she still talked to the man. "Are you in love with me?" Absolutely no answer. Her heart sank. No, no, no. Had he left her? After that? Or was the silence to protect her from a resounding no? Or was it his reluctance to say yes? What just happened felt like it was love. "Who are you?" She had never even asked if it was God, just assuming. She was kind of scared, crushed even. But still, no answer. "Will I ever see you?" Finally, he said, "Yes."

After that intensity, it should have worn her out, but instead, she couldn't sleep. Not only because she was thinking too much, but because she could feel those eyes on her more prominently than before. She tried to ignore it by once again scrolling through stories. This time was horrific. The celebrities had creepy smiles on their faces, looked almost insane. They all had tigers and talked about grills and seemed so sinister that it made Jezebel shiver to the core. Now she really wouldn't be able to sleep. But then she came to another celebrity's story, one she had never really paid attention to. He looked kind, no creepy smile, no insanity in his eyes; so serene and calm. It was also a relief that he didn't mention tigers or grills.

"Would you like the world to change? Would you like to feel like you can be free of all the manipulation of the world around you? Would you like to find your inner peace? I want that for you. Come bask in the sun with me, join me in the warmth of life."

Those words he spoke hit her hard. Yes, she wanted all that. He was immediately alluring, instantly soothing, and she was very much attracted to it. She swore it was love at first sight. A celebrity, like she wanted. This had to be the one. His name was Roland Asher. She clicked onto his profile and began to watch the videos he posted on it. They were all so comforting. But her joy ended abruptly when she heard the voice in her head urging her to listen. She felt an unexpected rush of adrenaline and closed her eyes. The voice told her to get out of the house as quick as she could, to go for a drive.

With another spike of adrenaline she rushed out the door and to her car, her hand shaking as she tried to put the key in the hole. She got in and peeled out of her driveway, not knowing why the hell she was so scared. But she trusted the voice, if he said go, then she was going to go. She didn't know where she was going, she just drove around the city for a while until she calmed down. It had been fifteen minutes, having gone in a sort of circle. And when she came back, her house was on fire.