Way Out - Part 1

INTRODUCTION

Hello,

I am going to guess that you are here to lose yourself to fictional texts as an escape from the world that surrounds you?

Whether that be just a bad day, a marriage that’s falling apart, a job you hate, children you despise or even parents you cannot stand. Or you hate capitalism, or consumerism, or communism, that’s always a good reason.

Or you just saw this in a bookshop and became curious.

Or, you just want me to pipe down and continue with this introduction that is just here for additional word count and added dramatic effect.

And so I shall, but with a warning. Unfortunately, you cannot escape from this.

I will need your mind for this and if you are not okay with that, then I suggest that you stop reading.

Still here?

Good.

A majority of this text will be in your control, you decide the ending of these stories. What is so important about endings? They give something meaning; they are the shore after an ocean of narrative. But also, it does what it says on the tin; it ends. No matter how horrifying, how good, it ends. Keeping you safe in your own reality. Does that not arouse your interest?

Disclaimer: Whilst you believe that this is in your complete control, it will, in fact, only be the aspects I allow to be. So always read the small print.

Have I intrigued you? Not that it matters.

Every individual becomes excited at the prospect of being important, most important.

Suffice to say that you want to be someone’s number one, the most important in any story, let alone just yours. We all want a bit of self-assurance and a sense of self-worth. This is more like you than you care to admit. Any individual is the most important character in their own story, and now you get to control someone else’s.

Instruction: I would also like you to think about the person you are whilst you are reading this.

Here are two stories, I will not bore you with much else, here is the first:

This Is A Pity.

I would like you to imagine a girl walking into a dimly lit bar. Please visualise electric lightbulbs swing from high ceilings and a lamp scattered here and there. Imagine that the bar top is sticky, as if someone has forgotten to rub off the spilled alcohol.

The bar itself should have a grim appearance but, this place is perfect for our protagonist. We will call her Joy.

Joy is thankful for the lack of hygiene in this bar, because it was the only bar that would serve sixteen-year-olds.

Joy has temporarily misappropriated her mother’s red heels and her red lipstick. Her hair had recently been cut and she no longer has to stick socks down her top to create breasts.

Joy breathes in the smell of stale lager and makes her way to the bar.

She orders her drink from an unblinking bar man of your choosing; she orders a gin and tonic for the sake of mimicked sophistication, and it is something her mother would order.

Joy knows what she is looking for in this dimly lit bar, she is an adult now, and all of her friends have boyfriends and are in relationships, so why shouldn’t she be in one too? This is because Joy has low self-esteem and does not have any role models to look up to. Which is a pity.

Joy looks over the rim of her glass in a manner that she hopes is alluring and peculiar. Something her mother does very well. That is when she sees one man in particular, looking straight at her. Imagine a man who looks excruciatingly handsome, as if he has been pulled out of a novel. His shirt is pristine and neatly ironed, his eyes are a glacial blue and his hair is blond and tousled. He also looks young, with a crinkled smile that makes Joy’s face ache as her cheeks are pulled up in an imitation.

Joy reaches up to check her lipstick, she makes sure it is not smudged.

Only for moments later, to find his crinkled smile pressed against her mother’s lipstick. In a dark corner of the bar, hands roaming into her hair, her hands hesitant against his back, stuck still, then slowly up, to show she knows what she was doing.

She eventually pulls away and receives his number.

This is where you come in, I have interrupted this story to give you two optional endings for Joy in which you have to decide. Here is option one:

Joy feels a vibration in her pocket once she exits the bar. In the night's dark, the phone screen lights up with a message from her mother.

“Don’t stay up too late, I have a date tonight.”

But that was fine.

Joy pockets the phone and walks into the night.

If that ending was unsatisfactory, here is option two:

Joy is sat in history class the next morning, she had not seen her mother and will not see her till the evening if the date has gone well. The remnants from the night before are completely wiped away and hidden in the back of her wardrobe. Her message remains unread from the man from before. She does not expect too much. But she would make something up for her friend Ashley, who she hadn’t seen for a few weeks, and was claiming a bug.

Imagine any ordinary classroom, with desks and chairs and students in their misshapen uniform to look fashionably attractive and impressive. The class fills out slowly, with young schoolboys tilting back in their chairs, wolf-whistling at the girls in their skirts because they feel like they are entitled to.

The door shuts and everyone becomes silent, when a man with glacial blue eyes and a crinkled smile walks in.

It is not impossible to describe Joy’s emotion in those few moments. Her heartbeat escalates, she feels sweat form on her brow and her hands shake ever so slightly. She wants to avert her eyes and to run at the same time.

You all know who the man is by now, don’t you?

The man’s eyes just glance over her and the other students, devoid of any familiarity. But she remembers the warmth of her lips pressed against his, and the fear stops, instead she feels agitation.

She wants him to remember her.

You can call me Mr Smith, he says, I will be teaching you history from now on.

The class continues as a Joy remains rod-straight in her seat. She shivers at the breeze she feels on her right shoulder. She does not question that there is no window open in the room. Mr Smith, only looking at her once as he gestures to the board, answers and asks questions to Joy’s other peers.

As soon as the bell rings, she is out of her seat and out of the room, trying to call Ashley, to vent out her emotions. Finally, our next side character, Ashley answers the phone. Her voice is shaky.

“Ashley, you will not believe what just happened-“

“Joy?” Imagine Ashley’s voice as very tearful, as if she is trying to swallow a lump in her throat.

“Ashley? What’s wrong?”

“I need you to come with me, to the doctors. Today.”

“Doctors? What’s wrong?”

Ashley takes a few moments to speak. “A guy kept bothering me a few weeks ago, I can’t remember when exactly, I never told you. He- he wouldn’t stop.”

Joy swallows.

“He wouldn’t stop and he held me down and he-,” Ashley sobs. “I don’t think he was covered up and my period is late.”

Joy’s phone flashes again. “Did you call the police? Did you-“

“There’s no point, all I can remember is his blond hair and his blue eyes.”

Joy checks her phone while Ashley is speaking and sees a message from her new history teacher.

You looked beautiful today, can I see you later? Xx

Are you happy with the choice you made?

We will leave Joy, Ashley and Mr Smith for a while. Nevertheless, keep a watch out for them as you live your daily life. They are everywhere.

Come back tomorrow, for the second story where we meet Brian.