Vanishing Point

Bright lights glare at me from overhead. My back aches and my mouth is dry, like sandpaper. I try to speak but my tongue flops helplessly in my mouth. A strange gurgling sound erupts from the back of my throat. Long, matted hair tickles my neck.

My vision begins to sharpen. I’m in a bed. There’s a machine beeping beside me and something over my mouth, hissing gently. I can see my reflection off the polished panels on the ceiling.

But something seems off. I don’t recognise myself. How did I get here? And why do I look like that?

THREE DAYS EARLIER

I groaned as I swung my legs out of my bed. My phone was buzzing on my bedside table with an incoming call. I accepted it and pressed the phone to my ear.

‘Hey, Freya. What’s up?’ I asked, running a hand through my spiky hair.

‘Matt! Coming to work today? I can’t wait to see you!’ Freya squeaked, her voice injected with excitement. It was Monday morning. Was she ever tired?

‘Yeah, I’ll be there.’ I pulled my curtain aside and glanced out the window. Dark storm clouds leered menacingly on the horizon.

‘Great! See you soon!’

I paused. ‘Is that all?’

‘Yep!’ And then she hung up.

I sighed, pocketing my phone and shoving my feet into grimy slippers beside my bed. Freya had been my best friend for as long as I could remember –sometimes I felt more like her than I did myself –but other times her erraticism was exhausting. I couldn’t remember how I met her. Freya said I’d needed a job and she was hiring. But I didn’t remember that at all. It felt like our lives seamlessly merged without me noticing. Like she had been there since it all began.

My truck eased to a stop on the side of the road, cars bustling past in the busy intersection. The smell of greasy fish-and-chips wafted out of a shop as a worker flipped the closed sign on the front door, beside the scuba shop. My key rattled in the old lock as I wedged the door open with a grunt.

I flicked the lights on, instantly illuminating rows of full and half-body wetsuits on metal racks, flippers, masks and other equipment hanging on the walls. I flipped the sign on the door and opened the curtains.

‘Hey Matt!’ Freya called as the door jingled behind her. ‘Thanks for opening!’

‘No problem, Freya,’ I said wearily. Freya’s hair was neatly swept into a high ponytail with loose strands of her golden-brown hair loose beside her face. Her face was plump and her lips were glossy and pink, large silver hoop earrings hanging down from her ears. Her ocean-blue eyes were framed by dark eyeliner and glossy mascara. Not so much as a wrinkle dared to cross her face. Not that it’d get her down, anyway.

‘Hi! Welcome to Sea Suit. If you need any help, please let us know,’ I forced enthusiasm into my voice as a young man with light, beachy waves and a blond stubble swung the door open and stepped inside the shop.

‘Thanks.’ He said, offering a pearly-white smile as he made his way towards the flippers section.

Freya turned to me. ‘I forgot to tell you, Matt. I changed the name of our shop. It’s not Sea Suit anymore –it’s Diverly. I just thought it fit better, you know? We do sell diving gear, after all.’

I blinked. ‘What? When? You didn’t think to tell anyone?’

Freya shrugged. ‘Last night. I just wasn’t feeling it anymore, you know?’

‘Wait, but what about the sign out front?’ The words Sea Suit were pinned to the front of the shop, above the door, in large, blue letters. They weren’t like words on a chalkboard –we had them professionally attached when Freya bought the property.

‘I changed them. See for yourself –it says Diverly now.’

I retreated out of the shop and stepped onto the footpath, almost crashing into a family of beach-goers pulling a wagon full of towels, buckets and spades behind them. Glancing up to the top of our building, I felt my jaw hinge open in disbelief. Just yesterday, the letters had been big, blue and said Sea suit on the top of out building. Now they were smaller and decorated with images of dolphins and starfishes clinging to the new word: Diverly.

I stepped back inside, my mind spinning with confusion. Freya grinned at me. ‘See? Told you!’

‘Freya, when did you do this? How did you do this? It’s such a big job, not something you just do because you feel like it.’

Freya’s grin didn’t waver. ‘Last night! I told you I changed it,’ she said. Another man stepped into the shop, with brown hair that stuck out around the nape of his neck. He had bulging muscles beneath a wet t-shirt that was clinging to his body.

‘Hi! Welcome to Sea –Diverly. Let me know if you need any help.’ I stammered. The man nodded and started towards the masks.

‘It just rolls of the tongue, doesn’t it?’ Freya said. ‘I bet it’s attracting all of these new customers!’ She gestured at the two people who were in the shop. But she did have a point –we usually didn’t get customers before noon, and especially on non-beach days.

‘Yeah, I guess so,’ I agreed quietly. ‘I thought it’d rain today, too.’ I glanced out the window to the footpath, where pedestrians were streaming down the street, dressed in thongs and bathers with sunscreen glinting off their noses beneath large sunglasses.

‘I thought so too, but I really didn’t want it to.’ Freya said, winking at me. I frowned and pulled out my phone, checking the weather app. Thirty degrees, not a single drop of rain forecasted. What had happened to the dark clouds from earlier?

‘Hi, I’d like to buy this, please.’ The blond man approached the counter with a pair of dark blue flippers in his hand.

‘Of course! Let me package that up for you.’ I took the flippers into the back room behind the register and wrapped them in a tissue-paper wrap, and shoved them into a cardboard box, securing it shut with a Diverly sticker I’d never seen before.

‘Sixty-nine dollars, please,’ I said, and the man pressed a card onto the reader. I waited as it processed the money. ‘Going out scuba diving soon? Great day for it today –it’s forecast to be thirty degrees.’

The man smiled, flashing his bleached-white teeth at me. ‘Yep, that’s the plan. Cousin’s got a boat me and my sons can take. They just got their scuba licenses over the school holidays.’

The reader beeped cheerily. ‘Wonderful. Have a good day!’

‘You too!’ The man called, shoving his box under his arm as he left.

‘Alright Matt, I’m heading out. It’s getting late. Need anything before I go?’ Freya asked.

‘What?’ I frowned. I hadn’t even had lunch. ‘It’s not that late. But sure, I can stay until closing time.’

Freya grinned again. ‘Lost track of time? It is closing time!’ I glanced outside the window, my mind swimming with confusion as the sun glared golden rays at me from the horizon.

‘Yeah –yeah, I guess I did,’ I stammered uncertainly. I was sure I hadn’t lost track of time. Where had the day gone?

‘Oh, and by the way, can you do an online order really quick? A man came in earlier, wanting to buy a full suit-and-mask package. Said he wanted to gift it to his father-in-law, who was going to take him and his brothers-in-law to scuba dive out on his boat. They just got their scuba licenses, he said.’ Freya asked.

‘Yeah, of course. I’ll do that now.’ I said, but there was an air of uncertainty to the statement.

‘Thanks Matt! See you tomorrow.’ Freya said.

‘See you,’ I repeated apprehensively. Hadn’t that been the same story the other man gave?

My alarm blared in my ear and I pulled myself out of bed, rolling onto my feet. The heat strange heat from the previous day hadn’t left the atmosphere –my forehead was beaded with sweat and my throat was dry like I had just licked a strip of sandpaper. My blanket was bunched up at the foot of my bed.

I stumbled into the bathroom, relishing the cool tiles beneath my feet. My chocolate-brown hair was awry –spiking up atop my head in clumped tufts. I smoothed it down, running my hands through it like a comb until I deemed it acceptable to leave the house in.

There was a small line outside the shop when I arrived to open. The air was poisoned by humidity and the sun glared down like an oven baking everyone from above, but the customers didn’t seem to care.

‘Wow! We’ve got quite a line today!’ Freya expertly had reverse-parallel parked behind me, her keys jingling on a lanyard hanging from her neck. I nodded and smiled, unlocking the shop and turning on the lights as the flood of customers entered.

‘Yeah, it’s great,’ I remarked. A woman approached the register with a snorkel mask in hand, having bee-lined to exactly what she wanted.

‘Hi, I’d like to buy this, please,’ she said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

‘Of course! Let me wrap it up for you.’ I took the mask into the back and began swaddling it in tissue paper then engulfing it in a box. I heard Freya making conversation with the woman, and I paused.

‘Going snorkelling today?’ She asked.

‘Yep!’ The woman replied. ‘My uncle’s got a boat, so we’re taking it out with the kids for a snorkel. They just finished swimming lessons.’

‘That’s great!’ Freya remarked. I returned to the register with the box, my muscles stiff. Wasn’t that basically the same story I’d heard twice before?

‘That’ll be fifty dollars,’ I typed the amount into the computer. The woman handed me a fifty-dollar note and I tucked it into the register, flashing her a smile. ‘Have a nice day!’

The woman left, and Freya turned to me. ‘You look good blond, Matt. I’m glad you decided to dye your hair.’

‘What?’

‘I said I like your hair. I always thought you should dye it. It suits you.’

‘But I don’t have…’ I trailed off, digging my phone out of my pocket. I brought it up to my face and turned the camera to face me. It was like someone completely different was staring back at me. My hair was wavy and blond, messy on top with a shaven patch behind my ears reaching the nape of my neck.

‘It’s good. I like it.’ Freya repeated. But I said nothing. I wasn’t blond. I hadn’t dyed my hair. What had happened to me? And why did Freya seem to be involved?

‘Freya, can we… can we talk, after work?’ I mumbled, plunging my hands into my pockets.

‘We can talk now! What’s up, Matt?’ Her voice still had the same cheery infliction as it always did. Although this time, I wanted to take it down a notch, to smother it like a flame that had gotten out of control.

‘No, Freya, talk later. Let’s go down to the beach, okay?’

‘Sounds good!’

I pulled my truck into the sandy carpark as the sun sunk beneath the horizon, reflecting shades of vibrant apricot of the deep blue ocean. Waves lapped on the bay in the distance. A seagull pecked at an abandoned chip left lying on the ground.

As Freya’s small, blue Mazda pulled up beside me, I turned the engine off and hopped out of the driver’s seat.

‘Hey Matt!’ Freya greeted excitedly, as if she hadn’t seen me just ten minutes ago. The golden sun caught her eye, shifting it between shades of caramel and golden honey. Her pupils were dark insipid dots that seemed to bore through me –had her eyes always been hazel?

‘Hey, Freya. Let’s go for a walk.’ I invited, trudging up the sandy track towards the beach.

‘Oh, let’s go left. We can walk along the rocks.’

What rocks? The coastline was a massive horseshoe, with golden sands and a jetty that teenagers loved to jump off, but there weren’t any rocks.

I didn’t press her.

‘Freya, what’s going on?’ I asked softly. ‘What’s happening with you?’

Freya quirked her head. ‘What do you mean?’

She guided me left at the beach, leading me towards a section of the coastline where large, jagged rocks jutted out of the sand, and a cliff leered over us. Had that always been there?

‘Well, first with the name of our shop –you just changed it overnight. And my hair. I didn’t dye it. And how come all of the customers are repeating the same story?’ I realised most of the things I’d just listed weren’t to do with Freya directly. But I couldn’t shake the feeling she was somehow involved.

‘Matt, I told you, Diverly is a better name, so I changed it. And you dyed your hair, not me. And all the customers all have different stories –they have different people in their lives.’ I stepped awkwardly between the rocks, praying my ankle wouldn’t twist under me.

‘I’m serious, Freya,’ I said. ‘Tell me the truth. What’s going on?’

Freya paused, her chestnut eyes meeting mine. Her face, her hair, her voice all sounded so familiar to me. I’d known her for longer than I could remember. All that time, had I ever noticed anything?

‘You know what’s happening, Matt.’ Freya’s voice was hard. It was like all of the enthusiasm had been sapped from it. I felt my heard skip a beat. I’d never heard her speak like that before. ‘You aren’t real.’

I froze. My blood ran cold. ‘What?’ I choked out, but it escaped my throat as a husky whisper.

Freya laughed, but it wasn’t the contagious giggle I had grown used to. My skin crawled at the noise ‘What, you didn’t know? Get used to it Matt! You don’t exist!’

‘Freya, what are you talking about?’ I hissed, my heart pulsing in my ears.

Freya didn’t respond. She just kept laughing, her head tilted backwards, maliciously gleeful hoots escaping her throat.

‘Freya!’ I yelled, pushing her gently. Freya turned to me, her face suddenly cold, no trace of a smile on her lips. She grabbed my wrist and brought it close to her face.

‘I can do whatever I want,’ she whispered, ‘because this isn’t real.’

‘Stop!’ I yelled, shaking free of her grip. Freya stumbled backwards, her feet sliding awkwardly on the rocks. Her ankle twisted as she tried to regain her balance, and her head collided with a rock’s sharp, serrated edge, with a sickening thunk.

‘Oh God,’ I whispered, my hand clasping over my mouth. Freya didn’t move. I felt my vision waver, my legs wobbling like jelly beneath me. What had I done? Suddenly it felt like the ground opened up like a trapdoor, and I was falling. I gasped. The world faded away until I was suspended in perpetual motion –an in-between place, where I was alive but I wasn’t living. Redness pulsed behind my eyelids. I saw anger, I saw fear, and I saw myself. My limbs were flailing but somehow not moving at all. I tried to scream, but an echoey gulp died before it ever left my mouth. I was drowning. I was alive, yet I was dead. I didn’t exist.

And then I opened my eyes.

PRESENT DAY

‘Freya! You’re awake –how are you feeling?’ A nurse dressed in all-white with a face mask pulled tightly behind her ears asks me.

‘Freya?’ I mutter, trying to lift a hand but feeling my muscles disobey me. No, that isn’t right. I killed Freya. She’s dead.

‘You’ve been in a coma for a month, Freya.’ The nurse quietly informs me.

‘No, you’ve got it wrong,’ I mumble. My voice sounds strange and thick. ‘I’m not –I’m not Freya. I killed Freya.’ I shiver as I remember what had just happened –me and her by the rocks, on the beach. It felt so vivid, so real, but the memories were already beginning to slip through my fingertips.

‘It wasn’t real, Freya. It was all a dream. You’re awake now. This is real.’

A sense of panic surges within me. ‘Where am I?’ I ask desperately.

‘You’re in the hospital. You’re okay, Freya.’ The nurse says.

Stop calling me Freya! I want to scream, but I can’t. What happened to me? Where is Matt, the person I had lived as for as long as I can remember?

‘Where’s –where’s Matt?’ I maunder. I remember my hair that magically transformed from brown to blond, the people who never had more than a surface-level character, the sign on the shop that had changed overnight. Freya had controlled all of those things. Freya had been the orchestrator –in my reality, it had been Freya in manipulation of everything.

But I was Freya. I am Freya. How was I a side-character in my own life?

‘Your friend visited you often during the past month. I can let him know you’re awake now, if you want, and he will be able to see you soon.’ The nurse says. My breath catches in my throat.

‘Who is Matt?’ I ask sheepishly. If he’s not me, than who is he?

‘He was with you when the accident happened, on the boat. He brought you here. He was so scared for your life –I think he blamed himself for what happened.’

The accident. On the boat. Like all those customers had been talking about. 

My mind swims. My heart pulses in my ears.

In my mind, I have embodied the person I murdered.

What’s it going to be like seeing myself living as someone else?

‘Bring him in, please,’ I request.