An Escape Room
The next thing I
remember, I’m waking up in an unfamiliar place. The door is shut, the blinds in
the window are closed and encased in such a way that I cannot open them, and
the walls are utterly bland. I instantly realize that I am in an escape room,
and I don’t know how much time I have to get out. I get out of the bed and
quickly overturn the bare mattress, looking for clues. I find nothing in the
hollow space of the bed, but quickly find the manufacturing tag on the mattress
and rip it off, searching the print for clues. I look in the bedside table, in
the nooks and crannies of the bookshelves, nothing. The bottom cabinet doors
are locked, but I find a way to press in and pull out quickly and open them.
Nothing in there but a pair of hospital socks. I find odd, silver protrusions
coming from the wall that I cannot identify, so I push on them as though they
are buttons. Nothing happens. I go into the bathroom and find more of the
silver objects on the wall and keep hitting them. I check over the shower,
sink, and toilet and find nothing. Then, I look into the mirror and tell them
to let me out, that I am tired of this escape room. I know there are people on
the other side of this mirror, watching my every move. Nothing happens. I
become angry and turn the light off for a few seconds so they can’t see me. I
turn the light back on, and one of the techs is sitting in my shower. Scared, I
flip the light off and on again. This time she’s gone.
I retreat back to
the bed. At this point I completely lose track of date and time. My mind goes
in and out of multiple delusions for days, and while I’ve obviously lost touch
with reality, I can also no longer separate life from dreams, or keep track of
the days. The first several days of treatment at Crestwyn are a blur, and all I
can remember are these delusions, maybe in part because I refused to attend
therapy groups and stayed holed up in my room. I recall being served meals in
my room since I would not go to the cafeteria, refusing to eat, and throwing
the food all over the walls. Apparently I also got violent with some staff,
because they had to knock me to the ground and give me a shot of Seroquel to
get me to calm down. It did little to break the psychosis, however.
The next thing I
remember is refusing to see my family on visitation day. I was certain that my
father was with them, and I was not ready to see him after everything we had
been through. I wanted my mother and husband to know that I loved them but that
I just could not see them at this time. My two sisters were with them, and I
read messages they sent me through the system for the air conditioner on the
wall: “Sys mode cool” – okay, great, my sisters understand. Next thing I know,
I have realized I am in a hospital and outside my room several of my friends
and acquaintances are in labor. All my friends who have been unable to have
children or told that they cannot have any more. I realize that this is part of
my prophecy, that these babies will be born before the end of the world occurs.
And it hits me, I have become a prophet to tie up all these loose connections
because Christ is coming back, and really soon.
As I am praying
over each of these women, that their labors will be quick and easy, I know that
I am with child. Not just any child, but the last child to be born on earth. I
struggle with what his name should be, but it has to be a “Z” name, to signal
finality. I spend what feels like the next several hours in active labor. I
feel the steady, intense contractions, and I contort into various birthing
positions as I try to push the baby out. I feel beads of sweat pouring off of
me. I get into the shower in hopes of easing the pain. I see my swollen belly
moving as the baby changes positions. I’m getting through labor by praying
feverishly over the other women outside my room in labor. I exhibit many of the
physical indicators of pregnancy and labor, when I had not been pregnant at all
just hours ago. After some time, the labor pains begin to ease and I seem to
drift off to sleep. When I wake up, I’m in a room called the Noisy Activity
Room.
Several people are
around me, and they turn me towards the television which is set to BET. Nicki
Minaj is accepting some music award, and I beam with pride. I am Nicki Minaj,
and I’m finally making it in the music world. I wonder what else I missed while
holed up in my room. I start dancing and singing in joy, and my peers are
cheering me on. Some of them start dancing and singing too, rallying around me
like I’m the center of attention, the star of the show. I instantly know that I
have the power to do anything I want to do.
Again, time blurs
and I only remember bits and pieces of my first several days there. I see
myself singing and dancing down the halls, encouraging my peers to sing and
dance with me as we go to the cafeteria and the gym. During recreation time at
the gym, I lead my peers in song and dance as we jam to Michael Jackson. The
next thing I know, Michael Jackson is there with us dancing – what a party! And
I had the power to bring him back to life.
The next delusion
I strongly remember involves learning that not only am I a prophet, I am
actually the Messiah. As I lied in the bed, I heard God telling me that I have
to continue spreading the truth for a little longer, and then I must come to
die. I told God that I would do absolutely anything for him, and asked him what
it was I must do. God told me that the reason I didn’t make it to the New Years
Eve party was because there were still too many in unbelief. The party, I
learned, was actually a huge party in heaven and God had wanted everyone to be
there. So, now I had to get everyone around me to believe, so we could all make
it to the party in heaven together.
The next day, I
told everyone I saw that they must believe in Jesus Christ and give their lives
to him. I shared that the end is near but it cannot be fulfilled until all
believe. I told my peers, the staff members, and even the cameras in the
building about this. I spoke about it in every room I went into, because I was
sure there had to be hidden cameras and microphones everywhere, and those
monitoring them needed to hear the truth too.
The next thing I
know, I am in an airplane. There are what look to be military men all around
me. One soldier tells me the plan, that when he gives me the signal I am to
jump from the plane and land on a huge platform in the sky. I am terrified of
heights, and definitely of jumping out of the plane, but I know that in order
for the prophecy to be fulfilled, this is what I must do. I do not argue or
complain. In an instant, almost as though I’ve teleported, I’m on the platform.
It is made of glass and completely transparent, so I can clearly see the ground
below me. Shaking, I stand up straight, and put my back against the clear wall.
A few soldiers come to me and strip me of my clothes. I am completely naked but
I do not feel ashamed. Then, they somehow hammer my hands and feet into the
wall. As I am praying, the pain goes away and I feel nothing. After a few
minutes, everything goes black.
TO BE CONTINUED...
