Til Death Do Us Part

Chapter 3

A man entered the bedroom. He didn't look anything like what I had imagined -- a huge, brooding, disturbed, antisocial psychopath with menacing features and stringy, unwashed hair and grimy clothes.

He was gangly and pale, with curly brown hair, a clean-shaven face, and blue eyes magnified by the thick lenses of the horn-rimmed glasses he wore. He looked like he was in his early thirties. He was dressed ridiculously like a stereotypical nerd -- high-waisted khaki pants, red suspenders, a bow tie, and a corduroy sports jacket. He reeked of cheap cologne. He looked about as threatening as a piece of soggy toast. I was surprised by how normal he appeared. Except for his pale blue eyes. There was something slightly off about them. They were too wide, and too bright, with a far away look in them.

He beamed happily at the sight of me. "Hi, Emily!" he said cheerfully in a weirdly artificial high, upbeat voice, "are you ready for our date?"

I gaped at him, taken aback. Date?! For a moment I couldn't find my voice. Finally I stammered: "Wh-what?"

"It's Valentine's Day! You said you'd go out with me!"

I looked down, noticing for the first time he was holding a heart-shaped box of chocolates and a bouquet of red roses...identical to the ones he had left in my bathroom. I felt like I was dreaming. This was too surreal, too bizarre to be really happening. "I...I don't know what you're talking about," I said warily. "Who are you?"

He let out a good-hearted, slightly bemused chuckle. "Don't you recognize me, Emily?"

No, I didn't recognize him. I had never seen this creep before in my life. And why did he keep calling me Emily???

"It's me!" he went on before I could reply, "Eddie! From school! We just talked earlier today in the hallway and you said you'd go out with me tonight! Valentine's Day night!"

Eddie... that name rang a bell somewhere in my mind, but I pushed that aside for the time being. I asked him: "Where am I?"

He looked honestly puzzled. "What do you mean 'where are you'? You're in your house! In your room! Your parents are downstairs! They let me in, said you were ready to go!"

This just kept getting weirder and weirder. This guy, Eddie, or whatever his name was, was clearly nuts.

I was still holding the nail file behind my back. I discreetly tucked it into the waistband of my skirt. I spoke to him very calmly and slowly, trying to reason with him. "Look...Eddie...I don't know what you think this is, but you're wrong. I'm not Emily. That's not my name."

He frowned, troubled. "Yes, it is! You're Emily Glover! You're a Senior at Fugate High, just like me!"

I spoke to him like a parent gently explaining to their child that Santa Claus isn't real. "That was just a television show, Eddie. That was a character I played. That was a long time ago. I'm not in high school. I'm not a teenager, I'm in my forties."

He shook his head in negation. "Uh-uh! I know who you are! You're Emily Glover! You're seventeen years old, just like me! You're the daughter of Glen and Patricia Glover! Your brother Tucker goes to our school, too! And you have a younger brother named Jessie!"

"They're not real, Eddie. They were just characters played by actors. Like me."

He was getting agitated. "No! You're real! You're just trying to trick me! You can't back out now, you promised me you'd go out with me for Valentine's Day, Emily!"

Something in me snapped. Exasperated, I shouted at him, suddenly furious: "STOP CALLING ME EMILY! THAT'S NOT MY NAME! EMILY WAS NEVER REAL! IT WAS JUST A FUCKING TV SHOW, YOU LUNATIC!"