There Is Something Inside of Me, Keeping Me in My Apartment

It started a couple of days ago, with a fever. It was my final day off before I had to head back to work at a finance firm, and I had spent most of it lounging around, only leaving the house to pick up some groceries so I wouldn't have to do so after an exhausting day back.

When I was in the deli aisle, picking up some cheese for some tacos I was planning on making, a man walked up to me. He seemed dirty, in an oversized cargo jacket and worn-out jeans. His hair was tangled and greasy, but as he walked, I couldn't explain it fully; but his gait just didn't match him at all. He walked tall and straight, confident with a wide, toothy smile.

"Hello, sir, may I have a moment of your time?" He asked, cool and clear as he outstretched a hand covered in a fingerless glove that looked like it hadn't been washed in decades. Just wanting him to go away, I took his hand and shook it, the cold sweat that was soaking his exposed skin seeping into my own dry palm.

"Hey, thanks, but I'm not interested in whatever you're selling. And I don't have any change."

The man nodded politely, still smiling.

"Fair enough, sir, have a good day."

He plodded off, and I watched as he approached a few others in the aisle, outstretching his hand but getting no takers other than me. I pulled out some Germex and rubbed it on my hands, hoping it wasn't some perv trying to spread a disease or his freshly rubbed dick stink.

The rest of the day was average, a little bit of gaming, keeping up with a couple of friends, but as it got closer to nightfall, my head started to throb. At first, I thought it was maybe allergies, or I hadn't been drinking enough water.

But by the time the sun went down, my head was screaming, like there was a nail being slowly driven deeper and deeper into my brain. No amount of Tylenol or Ibuprofen could even dampen it. But every time I checked my temp, it kept reading a nice, lean 78 degrees.

I decided to try to get to sleep and, if in the morning it was still bad, I would call in from work and go to a walk-in clinic.

After an hour tossing and turning, turning off my AC to keep it's noise from making my head throb even worse, I finally managed to pass out, only to wake up at 3:30 AM, with my head still absolutely screaming. I texted my boss, whom I thanked god I was on good terms with, that I wasn't gonna make it to the office today. Surprisingly, getting back to sleep was much easier than getting into it, and I slept wonderfully.

My eyes opened to a similar scene outside my bedroom window to what I had woken up to: a dark city at night, fluorescent lights making an artificial day. I yawned, feeling tired. Stretching, my body felt far more exhausted than my sleep should've left me; my shoulders ached with previous effort.

I checked my phone: 8:55 PM. 'Fuck, did I sleep through the entire day?' I thought, thankful that I was at least free from my headache. Groaning as I realized there was no point in going back to sleep, I pulled myself up and walked towards the kitchen, rubbing my eyes as they adjusted to the lights. I didn't remember it being so bright when I fell asleep.

Walking into the kitchen, lights also on, I noticed my wallet was in a different spot than I remembered. I usually leave it on the kitchen table so I can grab it on my way out, but this time, it was on the counter where I usually drop it off after I get home. Odd, but not abnormal. 'Maybe I just put it there and forgot,' I thought. Every assurance did less and less to secure my beating heart, detecting a hidden strangeness to the night.

Then, I saw my laundry room, the dryer rumbling as it squeezed all of the liquid out of my clothes. There was only one problem: I hadn't even put anything in the washer, let alone the dryer. I felt a tingle on the back of my neck, like someone was watching me notice oddities around my house. Instinctively, I checked around my ceiling, paranoia telling me there were now cameras in my home. I was only slightly relieved to discover a lack of anyone spying on me, but the feeling persisted.

I tried to come up with an excuse for the dryer as I stumbled into the kitchen, my head starting to hurt again. Opening the fridge just unhinged my reality a little further, as I saw a hamburger, still in its fast-food paper wrapping. 'Now, I KNOW that wasn't there before.' I thought, 'Had someone dropped by and gotten my laundry done and given me a burger? John, or maybe Chelsie? But they shouldn't have keys...' My thought trailed off as I heard a ding from my bedroom.

Walking back in, I found my phone in a pair of work pants, discarded on the side of the bed opposite the one I slept in. Pulling it out, a sense of dread slowly crept up my legs to fill my gut as I read a text I just received from 'Gigi from Work.'

"Thx for the help today!"

Weird. I checked the chat further and saw a text from 12:36 PM.

"Hey, you know anything about this new notice?" Read, and apparently, responded to.

The pit in my stomach grew into an immense chasm, nearly making me nauseous as I saw a text, apparently, sent by me.

"Yeah, I'll come over and let ya know. Too much to explain over texts."

'What the fuck?' I thought. I hadn't gone anywhere all day. A growing, nagging voice began to chant in my mind, like whispered scripture, "Something is wrong, something is wrong."

The angles of my apartment felt wrong, like my home had been silently and suddenly turned into someone else's. The creak of the floor beneath my feet, the buzz of an AC droning a nervous energy into the air. The nervous voice in my mind rattling like a nervous snake, 'Weapons. The knives. Get the knives.' I ran to the kitchen like a madman, scrambling as I searched the counter and drawers. The knife rack was empty, and seemingly, every sharp object in my apartment was gone. My screwdriver, toothpicks, tweezers, and anything that could be sharp or sharpened were gone.

I spun around, the silence of the apartment, the feeling that someone else had been living in here made the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I never thought I could have claustrophobia, but in that moment, the walls were suffocatingly close and impenetrable.

I tiptoed back into the bedroom, nervously sending glances at every corner to try and uncover some unseen attacker, every step creaking and making me grimace. I grabbed the closest thing to a weapon I had, the metal bar of my coat rack, and went room by room, ensuring that I was completely alone in my house. This, rather than ease my nerves, only added to the sense of unreality that was creeping into my mind, slinking in like a snake into a burrow.

If I had really been alone, then what happened?

What was 'I' doing while I was asleep?

There was no way I was so sick that I pushed through the day, and then collapsed back at home after grabbing fast food and starting my laundry, and somehow completely forgot about it. Looking down at myself in horror, I had even changed clothes, only now noticing the white button-up I usually wear to the office, instead of the plain t-shirt I had fallen asleep in.

I reached to open the phone, trying to put in my passcode as genuine panic began to climb up my throat. I needed to get someone, anyone, to confirm what happened, to reassure me that I hadn't forgotten about an entire day. My fingers moved instinctually, and...

Incorrect Passcode.

"What?" I said aloud, being a little shocked at the hoarseness of my own voice. Had I been talking a lot? In my sleep? AND changed my passcode? That was impossible, outright impossible. I tried again.

Incorrect Passcode.

My fingers tapped at the screen with a furiosity that threatened to crack the screen.

Incorrect Passcode.

I started pacing.

Incorrect Passcode. 'iPhone Unavailable. Try again in 10 minutes.'

"No fucking way," I muttered under my breath as I walked towards the front door, grabbing my keys as I was filled with a strange and desperate need to talk to someone, anyone.

My hand just barely grazed the knob when my hand began to scream in agony. It was a mix of red-hot pins and needles stabbing every nerve, and a second, shocking feeling, traveling up my arm and paralyzing me, like a jellyfish had wrapped itself around me. I screamed, the burning sensation making my vision go white momentarily.

My good arm held up my limp appendage, as it continued to send waves of pain up my body. My stomach grumbled as nausea began to bubble in response to the sickening sensation of numbness and agony. I shook it, letting out a black chuckle as it swung side to side. My veins bulged in my arm, like something inside it had grown.

I turned and went to the window, but as my hand reached towards the curtain, I stopped mere inches before touching the fabric. Already, the tips of my fingers were tingling with a faint heat, like the outside was protected by some electric barrier. I backed up, feeling like an animal inside a cage.

I stumbled backwards and landed on the couch, focusing and taking in deep breaths. Slowly, painfully slowly, my arm returned to my control as first I could squeeze individual fingers, then form a fist, then finally roll my shoulder. Every movement is fighting to make my muscles obey each mental command.

'Can't contact anyone, can't get out...' the nervous voice muttered, cementing my trappedness. I screamed, begging someone, anyone, to answer and call for help, but my throat gave out before I got any responses.

I paced around my apartment for the rest of the night, unable to eat or get back to sleep. I couldn't come up with a single rational explanation for anything. Was I cursed? For not giving to the homeless?

I moved around like a scared lab animal, my own apartment becoming an unexplainable maze. I searched the walls for cracks, tried prying my AC off my wall, gnawed at my bars until the sun finally began to rise.

As I saw the dawn finally begin to break night's grip on the outside, I felt a tingling sensation creep up from my nerves into my muscles and skin. It was sickening, like a whole body injection of liquid tiredness. As my body began to fall under its own weight, I stumbled and collapsed onto the couch, fighting to stay awake.

I fought the force for only a minute, my twitches and thrusts to maintain control. As I thrashed, I saw my arms, their veins bulging, the pink skin barely revealing a blue tube underneath. Then, I saw something twitch inside of it, scarcely perceptible: a thin black tube with tiny offshoots, like a root. It tickled as it moved its awful phalanges around in my vein, feeling, probing, tasting. As soon as I noticed it, it slinked back into my vein like a snake into their den with a sensation similar to having my blood drawn.

My panic at this did nothing to stop my mind from being plunged into nothingness.

I did not dream; my next moments of consciousness were pushing myself up and grabbing my phone, my body still in its natural pattern.

8:55 PM.

I scrolled up, a pit of dread growing in my heart as I saw a text, this time from an unnamed number.

"Hope you made it back alright! I had a great time! :)"

My head turned towards a new object on my nightstand: a vase full of flowers.

Numbly, I walked into the kitchen to grab a beer, and noticed that the burger was gone, figured 'I' must've eaten it until I saw muddy bootprints coming from my window and forging a path to my fridge.

'It seemed like I went into work yesterday, then went on a date. And I don't have a single goddamn memory of it. And someone broke into my home and ate my food.' I checked my arms, relieved to no longer see any worms or wires or whatever else was definitely inside of me. The mere thought made me shiver, the unnatural, invisible feeling of infection that nested inside of me.

My mind drifted to biology class and the hookworm. making praying mantises wade into water to proliferate, leaving behind a husk of a creature. My stomach twisted like it was full of living string; I could practically feel them squirming around in my intestines. Infested. Rotten.

I spent the rest of the night writing this. Thank god I had a draft open before I went to sleep. My fingers don't feel like they are falling off while writing this, but I have spent all of tonight getting all of this down. Headaches come and go, my body twitches, and sometimes I can't tell if it's my nerves or something on them. More than once, I found my arm grabbing a cup or paper without my command.

I can only hope we wake up tomorrow.