Waves crash against the sand, sending sandpipers sprinting away. They roll back out into the ocean, and the cycle repeats. The sun rises on the horizon. I can’t remember how long I’ve been here. It can’t be longer than a few hours, although it feels like days. I’m unsure of where I am, but it seems like some sort of deserted island. Somehow it feels like more than that, as if it were here for a purpose. My memory feels clouded, and this place seems very ominous. A trail of footsteps leads down the beach. I call out, trying to say hello, but I can’t form any words. I can’t even make noise. I am so shocked, I fall to my knees, sit down, and wait for something to happen, something to arrive, but nothing does.
As the sun comes up through the fog and clouds, I begin to follow the trail of footsteps. The beach narrows out at one point, and a path leads into the forest that lies beyond. Seeing nowhere else to go except the cold, murky ocean, I head into the woods. The sound of the waves begins to fade out. I have a dreadful feeling I am being watched. I walk a little more quickly, trying to hear anything other than the sound of my breathing and steps.
After an hour of trekking, I finally make it out of the forest — and back to the beach. Suddenly, I realize I’m back where I woke up; now there are two trails of the same footsteps. How could I have been here before? Or . . . was it . . . I don’t remember this place at all! I scream nothingness at an island full of nobody, only strange games of which I am the victim. But not for much longer. I am going to put a stop to this. I go back into the woods, and collect sticks. . . . What am I doing? I’m never going to be able to leave this island. I am going to be stuck here for the rest of time.
What if this is a nightmare? I pinch myself as hard as I can, but nothing happens. Well, it never seemed to work before, anyway.
A bobcat appears on the trail ahead of me, glaring at me. I chase it and it sprints in the opposite direction. I continue chasing it, and all of a sudden it's gone. I really do feel like I am beginning to go crazy.
I return to the beach, not really expecting anything. Birds fly by, screeching and calling to one another. The waves push against the island, darkening the sand, and run back into the water. I feel miserable. I have a headache and my ears are ringing.
“Congratulations, Amelia! It has taken you less than twenty-four hours to go crazy!”
I try to speak, looking for someone behind me.
“Now, how the heck are you going to get off of this island?”
The voice sounds like it is being broadcast into my brain. I jump into the ocean and paddle as hard as I can.
“Interesting strategy!”
I swim underneath a wave and it crashes past me. I’m pretty far from the shore already, but that only encourages me more.
“Watch out for that wave!”
Another one crashes onto my head, filling my mouth with salt water. I swim up and gasp for air. My paddling continues and my arms grow tired. Another wave crashes on me.
“Ouch! Keep holding on!”
I sink. The water pulls me down. I can see nothing except the light coming from above. The light fades into total darkness, pure isolation.
I awake, in a dark room with spotlights pointed on me.
“Now, Amelia, what was going through your head?”
“I — I uh . . .”
I can talk again.
“I had to get out. I couldn’t stay on that island any longer. I had a bad feeling about it.”
The audience laughs, but I can’t make out their faces because the stage lights are blinding compared to the hazy fog of the island. The deafening roar of the crowd is unlike anything I have ever heard.
“Well, folks, you heard it here. The Mind Game Show will be back after this short break.”
The cameras stop rolling and the host goes off stage. I am led off stage by some of the camera crew. They leave me on the street outside, and I call a cab and go home. I unlock an unfamiliar door, to an unfamiliar house, in an unfamiliar location. What was I before? Why am I here? I know nothing but that brief stay on an island of isolation. Deep down, I feel like I wanted to do this, like I signed up for this, but why, why would I do that?
As the sun comes up through the fog and clouds, I begin to follow the trail of footsteps. The beach narrows out at one point, and a path leads into the forest that lies beyond. Seeing nowhere else to go except the cold, murky ocean, I head into the woods. The sound of the waves begins to fade out. I have a dreadful feeling I am being watched. I walk a little more quickly, trying to hear anything other than the sound of my breathing and steps.
After an hour of trekking, I finally make it out of the forest — and back to the beach. Suddenly, I realize I’m back where I woke up; now there are two trails of the same footsteps. How could I have been here before? Or . . . was it . . . I don’t remember this place at all! I scream nothingness at an island full of nobody, only strange games of which I am the victim. But not for much longer. I am going to put a stop to this. I go back into the woods, and collect sticks. . . . What am I doing? I’m never going to be able to leave this island. I am going to be stuck here for the rest of time.
What if this is a nightmare? I pinch myself as hard as I can, but nothing happens. Well, it never seemed to work before, anyway.
A bobcat appears on the trail ahead of me, glaring at me. I chase it and it sprints in the opposite direction. I continue chasing it, and all of a sudden it's gone. I really do feel like I am beginning to go crazy.
I return to the beach, not really expecting anything. Birds fly by, screeching and calling to one another. The waves push against the island, darkening the sand, and run back into the water. I feel miserable. I have a headache and my ears are ringing.
“Congratulations, Amelia! It has taken you less than twenty-four hours to go crazy!”
I try to speak, looking for someone behind me.
“Now, how the heck are you going to get off of this island?”
The voice sounds like it is being broadcast into my brain. I jump into the ocean and paddle as hard as I can.
“Interesting strategy!”
I swim underneath a wave and it crashes past me. I’m pretty far from the shore already, but that only encourages me more.
“Watch out for that wave!”
Another one crashes onto my head, filling my mouth with salt water. I swim up and gasp for air. My paddling continues and my arms grow tired. Another wave crashes on me.
“Ouch! Keep holding on!”
I sink. The water pulls me down. I can see nothing except the light coming from above. The light fades into total darkness, pure isolation.
I awake, in a dark room with spotlights pointed on me.
“Now, Amelia, what was going through your head?”
“I — I uh . . .”
I can talk again.
“I had to get out. I couldn’t stay on that island any longer. I had a bad feeling about it.”
The audience laughs, but I can’t make out their faces because the stage lights are blinding compared to the hazy fog of the island. The deafening roar of the crowd is unlike anything I have ever heard.
“Well, folks, you heard it here. The Mind Game Show will be back after this short break.”
The cameras stop rolling and the host goes off stage. I am led off stage by some of the camera crew. They leave me on the street outside, and I call a cab and go home. I unlock an unfamiliar door, to an unfamiliar house, in an unfamiliar location. What was I before? Why am I here? I know nothing but that brief stay on an island of isolation. Deep down, I feel like I wanted to do this, like I signed up for this, but why, why would I do that?