I opened my eyes with a rhythmic pain exploding inside my skull. It felt like an invisible hand was squeezing my brain and then releasing it. The same damn cycle every morning. As sunlight seeped through the curtains, filling the room with a grey haze, that familiar, sour stench hit my nose: alcohol and stale sweat.
The left side of the bed was empty. When I reached out to that cold spot, it felt as if a chasm opened in the center of my chest. How long had I been waking up like this? Alone, shivering, and my mind shattered. The nights were a blur hidden behind neon lights and laughter; the mornings were pure agony. The only thing I remembered from last night was glass after glass being downed, followed by that sudden darkness.
I threw my hand to the nightstand. Muscle memory searched for my phone. To check the time, maybe see a message, a sign of life… But my fingers only touched cold wood. I looked under the bed, on the carpet. It wasn't there. Where was my phone? Left at the bar, or in someone's pocket? I forced my mind to work, but all I faced was a thick wall of fog. Today, there was a strange feeling inside me, a sense of a breaking point, but maybe this was just a deception that would last until the first drink of the evening.
I forced myself to sit up. The world swayed slightly. As I dragged myself to the bathroom, I resisted looking in the mirror. I didn't want to see those puffy eyes, that face with the soul drained out of it. I turned on the tap; water flowed with a metallic hum from the pipes. When I stepped under the ice-cold water, my body seized up; every drop pierced my skin like a needle. But I needed this pain. Maybe this cold shock would scatter the fog in my brain, remind me who was in control.
Why did my mind feel like it didn't belong to me? At night, I let go of my strings like a puppet, and in the morning, I woke up amidst severed threads. How had I come here? was this a holiday resort, or a luxury rehabilitation center? In the depths of my mind, there was only the image of a brochure. Bright colors, promising smiles… "Endless Peace," "A New Beginning." But where had I seen that brochure? On my doorstep? I didn't remember. All I knew was that I had to drink to fill that void.
When I got out of the shower, I was shivering, but my mind was somewhat clearer. I threw on a random t-shirt and sweatpants. Hunger was gnawing at my stomach.
My steps echoed in the massive corridor as I went down the stairs. The building was imposing; high ceilings, marble floors stretching into infinity… Sunlight poured in through the glass ceilings, but there was a strange artificiality to this light; it neither warmed nor revitalized. The dining hall was crowded as usual. A soft jazz melody could be heard from afar. People, in groups, looked flawless and happy.
I headed to the open buffet. The options were the same as every day, but today everything looked staler to me. I took a piece of hard bread, a boiled egg with faded color, and a few wrinkled olives. The coffee was lukewarm, sitting in the cup like a puddle of foamless black water.
I slumped at a table in the corner and forced down the tasteless bites. Those perfect people around me; attractive women, fit men… They all looked like they had stepped off a magazine cover. Their laughter was too loud, their joy too exaggerated. This was a pleasure center, yes. But why was I here? The brochure… That damn brochure again. Where had I found it?
I left the tray and got up. As I walked out the door, I bumped into something hard or rather, someone. Alisha. The camp manager. She stood before me like a statue. In a red dress that hugged her body like a second skin, she was breathtaking, but this beauty was the kind you feared touching; cold and threatening. Her black eyes pierced through my soul. A voice inside me screamed my inexplicable weakness for her, but my tongue remained silent. She, on the other hand, looked at me as if looking at an insect.
"Watch it," she said. Her voice was ice-cold. Before I could answer, she walked away, her heels clicking on the floor. The scent of expensive perfume she left behind burned my throat. Why did I feel so helpless against her? And why did she look at me as if examining a mistake, a flaw, every time our eyes met?
I headed to the gym to distract myself. This place was like everywhere else: Flawless, huge, and covered in glass, yet the outside wasn't visible. Only the sky. A sky without a horizon line.
I got on the treadmill and increased the pace. When my lungs started to burn, my thoughts sped up too. The irrationality of this place… Windows, doors, people… Everything was "too" correct. Someone got on the treadmill next to me. A tall, dark-haired, athletic woman. She looked perfect in her black leggings and sports bra. She started running, rhythmic and effortless. I glanced at her. She turned to me, a vague, mechanical smile on her face.
"Hi," I said, breathless, trying to make a casual intro. "I haven't seen you before. Are you new?" The woman answered without breaking her pace. "No, it's my tenth day. But I've seen you." "Really?" I said in surprise. "Must be the drunkenness, I don't remember." The woman laughed lightly, but that joy wasn't in her eyes. "It doesn't matter. No one remembers yesterday here anyway. Isn't this place all about 'today'?"
Her words hung in the air. No one remembers yesterday. "You're right," I said, suppressing the unease inside me. "Shall we celebrate this forgetfulness at the bar tonight then? I'm tired of drinking alone." "Why not?" she said, her voice inviting but still carrying that strange dullness. "I'll join you for the night." "Great. I'm heading to the arcade, see you later."
I had forgotten to ask her name again. As I turned and walked away, my mind was stuck on the woman's words: No one remembers yesterday here. Was this a philosophy of life, or a rule? Amid the noise of the arcade, I saw her again. She was playing table tennis with someone else. I approached her. "I forgot to ask your name," I said. She lowered the racket, smiled. "Sophia." Sophia. beautiful name. But my mind was still blurry, and my body craved alcohol. After a brief goodbye, I threw myself into the bar.
The dim lights of the bar, the heavy bass rhythms, and the smell of alcohol wrapped around me like a mother's embrace. I signaled the bartender and started drinking whatever was put in front of me. Shots, beers… The world began to soften again, its edges blurring. The laughter of the girls sitting next to me, the music, the lights… Everything was turning into a vortex.
Just then, in the darkest corner of the bar, I saw her. She was sitting, staring intently at me. She wasn't smiling like the others. There was fear, uneasiness, and a familiar pain in her eyes. Our gazes locked. A few seconds felt like eternity. Then, with a slight nod, she pointed to the back room. Despite my drunkenness, an alarm rang inside me. In that look, there was a "reality" that didn't belong to this fake paradise. I cut through the crowd and followed her.
When I entered the room, she was sitting on the edge of the bed. I closed the door. She put a finger to her lips, making a "Shh" sign. Her face was tense. I approached her, slumped onto the bed. "Who are you?" I whispered. "Do I know you?" Looking deep into my eyes, without giving me a chance to breathe, she spoke: "Do you know me? The real question is: Do you know yourself? What is your name? Where is this place? Which city are you in? What year is it?"
The questions slapped me in the face. I prepared to answer but… My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. My name? My city? My mind was a pitch-black void. Panic pierced through the numbness of the alcohol. "I don't know," I said, my voice trembling. "I don't know any of it." "Don't be afraid," the girl said, her voice softening with unexpected compassion. "It's normal that you don't know the answers. Because you are inside an experiment. They call it 'Mind Game'. A simulation indistinguishable from reality."
"Simulation?" I was going to laugh, but the seriousness on her face stopped me. "What are you talking about?" "Remember that brochure," she said. "The brochure at the door. You were thinking of committing suicide that day, weren't you? Instead of dying, you chose to disappear. You came here, to this fake paradise, of your own free will." My blood ran cold. The thought of suicide… I hadn't told anyone about that.
"You… Who are you? How do you know these things?" I shouted. "Are you stalking me?" The girl shook her head with a bitter smile. "No. I am not your lover or your stalker. I am a part of your mind." "What?" "I am a code," she said calmly. "Your subconscious rejects this falsehood. With every system update, your mind creates a vulnerability. That vulnerability is me. I am your survival instinct. I am here to remind you of the truth."
"This… This is impossible." "Look around you! Those beautiful women, those flawless men, Alisha… They are all pieces of code. You are the only 'human' here. Alisha is the warden of this prison, the master software. She was designed to keep you sedated and in the system. But I appear every time. And every time, they find me and reset the system."
I jumped to my feet. "You're lying! You're crazy!" The girl stood up too, trying to hold my hand. "We don't have time! Alisha is about to detect our location. This conversation is creating a glitch in the system. They will delete me. But you… You can wake up." Just then, a mechanical noise was heard from outside, the door shook.
"Listen!" the girl said, her voice pleading now. "You must do this before your memory is wiped. When your mind blurs, clasp your right hand tightly with your left hand. This physical action is the only key that will remind you of this conversation and that this place is fake. Call it the 'Memory Protection Shield'. Do it!"
"Why should I believe you?" "Because my name..." she said, her eyes tearing up. "My name is..." At that exact moment, the door exploded with a massive crash. Alisha appeared within the dust and smoke. But that flawless woman was gone, replaced by an entity radiating digital rage from her eyes. "Delete the code!" Alisha commanded. Her voice wasn't human; it was a metallic, corrupted frequency.
Two burly staff members no, not staff, faceless shadows grabbed the girl. She didn't scream, but the moment her arms were held, her body began to distort. Not like flesh tearing, but like an image breaking into pixels, turning into digital interference... Her body elongated, colors shifted, her existence was being erased.
With a final effort, she whispered, "Isabe..." My world went black. I felt warm liquid pouring from my nose. My knees gave way, and as I collapsed to the floor, the girl's last words echoed in my brain. Clasp your right hand with your left.Just before my consciousness shut down, with my last remaining will, I interlaced my fingers. I clasped my hands so tight that my bones hurt.
From within the darkness came Alisha's cold, emotionless voice: "Critical error detected. Subject 894. Violation code: Name. Protocol 10. Reboot system."