Read R.E.M.: The Hidden World Online
Authors: Corrie Fischer
R.E.M.: The Hidden World (4 page)
“Yeah, how’d you….”
“And she knew your name?”
“Sam, you did hear her, didn’t you?”
“Just now.”
“What’d she say?” Renee was excited. She knew she wasn’t crazy, or at least she wasn’t the only one, which was a relief. Somehow too, she found the situation not horrific but, rather, thrilling.
“When I started getting snappy with you she said, ‘That won’t get you anywhere, Sam.’” Sam’s feelings were quite different, and he began regretting ever leaving church.
“Well, she’s got a point…you shouldn’t have treated me like that.”
“I thought you were losing it!”
“Look, let’s just get out of this area of the forest, okay? With all these…. um…. complications...”
“Ha! Complications?! Is that what you call it?”
Renee could tell he was still pretty shaken up, so she calmly continued her line of thought: “My point is that we’re lucky the church members haven’t caught us yet.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Sam’s eyes shifted toward the ground, as though the statement was a lie.
“Come on, let’s jog a bit.” She hoped the offer would lift his spirits, knowing how much he loved to run.
“Now class, line up, recess is over!” Ms. Morrison watched as her pupils scrambled into a line at her command. They learned over the last half a year that she was not one to be trifled with. Little Danny, the class clown, particularly learned this lesson after placing a whoopee cushion on her chair. Ms. Morrison punished the child by making him spend a grueling hour in time-out writing over and over again the sentence “I will show my teacher, parents and all adults respect.” Some claimed her methods as too extreme and strict. However, the school board determined she did not cross any boundaries and supported her stern teaching environment. Ms. Morrison developed a strong appreciation for her team and felt no remorse for disciplining the children as she did. Luckily for her, the principal especially approved of her work, possibly for reasons less than entirely appropriate. Nevertheless, he always kept things within the guidelines of professionalism and Ms. Morrison respected him for that. After all, the principal knew she adored every child in her class and merely wished the best for each one. Therefore, she would not allow her standards to be compromised. She experienced too much in life to allow that.
Her past struggles only made her stronger, more determined to succeed. At the age of only twenty seven years old, she was the youngest teacher in the entire school. Ms. Morrison stood proud knowing she obtained her Master’s Degree and teaching license in almost record time. Though she stood satisfied with her accomplishments, her journey up to this point was certainly not an easy one.
The decision to teach at this particular school was an especially challenging one. After all, Ms. Morrison avoided her small home town for many years. After experiencing a difficult youth and a major tragedy here, Ms. Morrison despised this place for some time. The true source of her disdain was her terror of this town. However, irony had a cruel way of making her come face to face with her fears. After she finished her schooling, Ms. Morrison set out on the task of finding a teaching position. She applied to school after school, but was denied several available positions. Perhaps it was her age that deterred the schools from qualifying her. Maybe it was the fact that she had no children of her own. In recent times, Ms. Morrison wondered if it was not simply the hand of fate that brought her back. She was at the point of desperation when the small town principal called her personally. He cheerily informed her there was an opening at the school for their 3
rd
grade classroom. It was the exact grade Ms. Morrison longed to teach. She was hesitant to accept the position and return to the very elementary school she attended as a child. However, after several more positions were handed to older, more experienced teachers, she decided to give in.
When Ms. Morrison arrived in the town and met her students, everything changed. The group was an unorganized mess. The children were disrespectful, late to class, and often cruel to one another. They needed her desperately. Her strict and rigid ways did not go over too smoothly at first. However, the children learned to adjust to her stern learning environment. Of course, she still dealt with the occasional questioning parent, but her logic overruled their objections every time.
Looking now at the children as they rushed toward her and filed into formation, she couldn’t help but notice how much they changed. They were now obedient, respectful students who always arrived on time, for the most part at least. It was truly ironic she finally found her place in this world and it was here, where all her misery originally began. Despite this, Ms. Morrison never felt so at home in her life.
At last, this is where I am meant to be.
A tear began to form in her eye, but was interrupted by the frantically waving hand of her pupil, Billy.
Wait a minute….that reminds me of something…
Her mind started to drift but at last, she asked, “Yes, Billy, what is your request?”
Fear rose in the child’s eyes. He knew he should have made this request sooner. “Ms. Morrison…I needa go to the bathroom.”
Ms. Morrison forced herself to hold back a chuckle. Instead she kept herself together, her face stern. “Well, why did you not go to the restroom during recess?”
Billy twirled his fingers together, his face now pointed towards the ground. “I don’t know.” The red haired freckled child was truly adorable in his uncertain state.
Ms. Morrison debated for a moment. Typically she would tell him to wait till the next class break in an hour; her goal to teach him self-discipline and the importance of organizing one’s time. However, she was in a particularly good mood today and decided to cut the children a small bit of slack. Looking up from Billy, she addressed the entire class. “Ok everyone, in our march we will pass the restrooms and anyone who needs to use the facilities may do so when I say ‘release.’ Are there any questions?”
“No ma’am!” chirped the voices of 15 shocked children. They normally received a lecture when such events arose; the pleasant surprise was quite nice.
Acknowledging her assistant for the first time in over an hour, Ms. Morrison looked to her right, partially addressing her, while still speaking to the class. “Now, Ms. Wilkins will be waiting outside the restrooms. I expect you all to line up properly for her and show her your respect.” With that, she turned around and gave the signal to start the procession back into class, “March.”
All of the 30 small feet began pounding on the ground, following as though obedient, loyal soldiers. Little did they know what the events of the week would have in store for them.
Beep….beep….beep…the sound was like a distant hum. Emily tried to open her eyes, but everything was like a fog. Light streamed in and all she could make out was white all around her.
Am I dead?
After the events of the last few years, the thought was almost comforting.
“Hurry, I said now!” The voice was distant but definitely that of a man, one completely unfamiliar to her.
Blocking out the light, Emily shut her eyes tightly. When she opened them again, several spikes met her gaze.
“Ahh!!” Emily reared up, moving her upper body too quickly. Her mind and world spun. She closed her eyes once more, desperately hoping for some new result at their opening. The spikes remained. In fact, she realized they completely surrounded her. She was in a cage.
The apparatus consisted of small logs bound together with leather roping. The spikes jutted through the small gaps in the wood. Each of these pointed stakes consisted of one end planted into the ground while the other sharpened edge shot up towards Emily’s cage.
How could this have…
Before the thought could be finished, her body over-ruled her mind. Pain shot up all her limbs, particularly her left arm, and as her eyes comprehended what the rest of her was feeling, she knew it was broken. Despite the pain, her arm somehow felt disconnected from her entirely.
I must be in shock. Oh God!
Just as the panic began to soak in and overtake her, Emily heard footsteps.
Looking up, three distinctive things caught her attention. The first is that she was, in fact, trapped in a cage. Secondly, she could see two giant tents. One lay to her right side and the other directly in front of her, blocking her view of what was beyond. Finally, on her left side was a massive open field followed by woods that stretched as far as she could see. There was no remnant of the strange, yet familiar, apartment where she was just moments before.
Had it been moments…..or possibly days….or even weeks?
Blood was clearly not the only thing draining from Emily. Her hope quickly faded.
“What use do we have of her?!” A burly man’s voice rang from the tent to her right.
“She might prove handy in….” The second voice, one of a woman, faded to a mere whisper and Emily could not make out the final words. The burly man chuckled in response; his laugh cruel and evil in nature. He was clearly hardened by life…
or was it something more?
“How would a damn gimp be useful? She would do nothing but slow us down!”
The woman let out a long sigh, Emily imagined her rolling her eyes. “You are a fool. If nothing else, she would make a perfect symbol….” There was a pause. Emily pictured the brute lifting a quizzical brow.
His burly tone insisted. “Look at her…..surely you know she must be one of them!”
“All the more reason she’d be perfect….after all, only we can show her where the true power lies.”
Loud footsteps began heading towards what Emily theorized was the front of the tent. “Stop!” The woman's authority was apparent for the steps ceased immediately.
“Why?” The burly man’s tone was clearly one of annoyance.
There was an almost growl-like response to his question, followed by the woman’s voice again. “I do not believe she knows who we are…as we brought her here, she mumbled something about a boyfriend. It is still possible her memory has been distorted from the….transition…” The woman’s tone was calm, solid and it rang with an eerie comfort. Emily cringed. The woman continued on. “At all costs, we must not reveal….” Again she reverted to a whisper Emily could not hear.
What?! What must they not reveal?!
Emily felt nauseous at her mental question.
“Understood.” Something about the way he stated the word so plainly was off. Of course, all of this felt wrong, severely wrong. The footsteps once again started approaching her so Emily hastily lay down and shut her eyes, terrified of what would come next.
Stomp….stomp….stomp…based on the sound, the footsteps of the brute were moving away. Eyes still closed, Emily dared to release a sigh of relief.
“Wonderful, you’re awake.” Emily’s eyes flew open at the sound of the voice. There, a mere two feet away from her entrapping device, stood a lovely woman. Her long, blonde hair flowed over her voluptuous chest down to her waistline. A paper thin, silk dress lined her seemingly perfect curves. Her face was composed of light blue eyes and thick, lovely lips.
Staring at this strangely gorgeous, yet intimidating woman, two distinctive thoughts ran through Emily’s mind. The first was….
How did I not hear her approaching?
The next thought began consuming her mind.
She is so beautiful. Why can I not look like that?
Insecurities Emily attempted to hide came rushing to the surface. Growing up, she was always a slightly thicker girl. Though in recent years, she did everything possible to improve her weight, she still despised herself. Her own self revelations and hatred emerged some years ago, after the death of a close friend. Since then, guilt followed her like a plague and Emily sought out every reason to disapprove of herself. It was one thing she and her father seemed to agree on; she was worthless.
Her self image started to improve slightly a few months prior when she met her boyfriend, Kyle. He assured her of her beauty, complimenting her daily. It helped, some, but Emily’s true self thoughts remained locked in stone. At first, she convinced herself Kyle’s words were for one purpose only. After all, every man just wanted to get laid, right? However, after holding off for several months, preserving her remaining ounce of purity, Emily finally decided this was not his primary intention. She promised him her eighteenth birthday would be their special day.
“It’s my birthday…” Having gotten lost in thought, the words seemed to slip out like spilled milk. Emily’s mind was then instantly drawn back to her current predicament.
“Well, isn’t that something?” Nothing about the woman’s words sounded harsh, but there was a cruelty in her voice that frightened Emily.
“What do you want with me? Why have you trapped me like an animal?!” The boldness of her words shocked even Emily. Perhaps it was the growing pain in her arm that caused her give-a-shit factor to decrease so rapidly.
“I do apologize about the way you were brought here. My men were uncertain where your loyalty in this land lies. I can see, however, that you are absolutely no threat to us.” With the last words breathed, the woman leaned over, her enormous breasts directly in Emily’s line of sight. Emily blushed and turned away, instantaneously aware of her own B-size cups. The woman lifted the latch on the cage and opened the door, removing a side of the spikes surrounding her. Hesitantly, Emily leaned forward.
“Come on, my dear, I will not bite.” Her words were not reassuring. Nevertheless, Emily felt somewhat relieved to crawl out of the horrendous trap. The woman’s hand was resting by the cage door and Emily, believing it to be an offer of assistance, reached out towards it.
Hiss!
The woman drew her hand back instantly, seemingly out of pure reaction. For a split second, her soft, blue eyes transformed into a tsunami-like state in her skull; hatred filling them. She looked away.
Was that shame? No, that was something else.
Emily could not pinpoint it.
“Oh I’m so sorry. I just really do not like to be touched.” The phrase was logical and sounded genuine enough but Emily was no fool.
There is definitely something off about her.
Emily put on a façade and smiled vividly. “Oh it’s fine, I understand.” She was not about to grant the woman any indication of the hidden thoughts beneath her own shining, brown eyes. The woman’s face glazed over with a lovely smile in response.
“Happy birthday, by the way.” Her words seemed more forced than genuine. Emily’s mind reverted back to a school play years before. She noticed one particular student, Rob Dean, who stood out to her. He desired to move to Hollywood and pursue acting as a career. He studied his lines over and over and rehearsed them hundreds of times. When the day of the play arrived, every word was correct but he lost a critical element. He knew his lines so well, he lost the natural flow of them and sounded much like a robot spewing out terms. This woman’s ‘by the way’ sounded very similar.
What is she trying to hide? Wait. What if she was the woman in the tent?
Emily was disappointed it took her so long to acknowledge the possibility. She needed to get to the bottom of this. “Well thank you. May I ask your nam….” A random jolt of pain shot up her arm, cutting her question short.
“Oh dear, you need help with that.” Once again, the woman was using an actor’s tone. She seemed to be contemplating how to handle the situation. “Follow me….uhm...” The woman gestured with her hand as though with an unspoken query. It was the same question Emily attempted to ask of this stranger.
“Emily. My name is Emily.” She saw no harm in giving such minor information, especially since it was not her full name.
“Emily, that is a lovely name. For now, you may call me Lucy.”
You may call me? For now? What is this woman’s game?
Emily was clueless as to why ‘Lucy’ was being so secretive, but at the moment, her arm needed some attention and this was her only option. Hesitantly, she stood to her feet, prepared to follow her odd, new acquaintance.
